Halloween Vignette Contest

[Max Dirks]

It's a new month so it's time for a new vignette contest. This time you've got a new host and a new location for it. I've also skewed the prizes a bit to encourage everyone to participate.

What are vignettes you ask? They're single post short stories written about a given prompt. Everyone can post their entry in this thread and at the end of the month all entries will be judged and the top three will be selected for prizes! Don’t worry about not winning a prize however, as everyone will receive EXP just for being creative.

The rules haven't changed much with me either. Here they are:

1) One submission per character. Multiple characters are allowed.
2) All entries must be made during the month of October. Editing your posts is allowed as long as all edits are made within the month.
3) Only on-topic vignettes will be considered for the prize. The topics are meant to be broad enough that no character should be particularly limited.
5) PCs must be involved in all vignettes. How "canonical" you choose to have the events of the vignette is up to you.
6) All participants receive 5% of the EXP they need to reach the next level. The top three finishers get 10% of the EXP they need to reach the next level and 100, 75 and 50 GP respectively.
7) A vote will be added after the completion of the month. Vote for your favorite vignette. The winner will get a custom user title. If a moderator wins, they get to change a players user title to anything they want (content appropriate). The only way to remove the shame? Face the guilty moderator in a battle. Win or lose, upon completion you'll lose the title.

Thanks to Christoph for the idea. If the vote works well (meaning high participation!), we'll probably change monthly vignettes into a anonymous player vote. That way it can happen every month and you won't have to wait eons for it to be judged.

Here's your prompt:

Max Dirks is deathly afraid of ghost stories. Write one and scare him!

[Raithwell]

Celeste Raithwell landed hard enough for her outstretched wrist to scream in protest. It wouldn’t have surprised her if the clawing pain she felt indicated a fracture, but she was beyond such worries at the moment. Her wide eyes were focused on the hulking brute standing over her and the red rimmed knife that he held at arm’s length.

“That’s right, whore,” the greasy bear of a man slurred, his speech drawn out by the sour ale that still hung heavy on his breath.

It had only been an hour since Celeste had stormed out of the rented room that she shared with her father. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of them to fight, given that they were still in the awkward stages of establishing a relationship after Erik’s death two decades before. Familial bonds were easy enough to break without the added pressure of one half of the union being nothing more than emotional resonance given shape by conscious will. Still, Celeste was happy enough in general, more than willing to give her ghostly father a chance to be a part of her life. And Erik was doing everything in his power to maintain the bond between them as if his existence depended on it, which was true in a very real sense as it was only the emotional connection between him and Celeste that allowed him to remain on Althanas without passing to the afterlife.

Still, there were troubled spots for the two of them, and Celeste’s independence was one of them. Their usual argument over how much time Erik remained with her, invisible and incorporeal, had escalated to the point where she had stormed off to the bar in a huff.

Celeste now desperately wished that she hadn’t been so impulsive, and hadn’t demanded that Erik not follow her. With a drunken brute looming over her in the dark, she wished very much that her daddy were with her.

“What’s wrong whore?” the thug spat, eliciting a whimper from Celeste with a heavy booted kick to the stomach. “Not so mouthy now, eh?”

Celeste had entered the Nymph’s Retreat with one thing on her mind, dulling her emotions with liquor. She hadn’t been interested in the advances of the thick-necked farmer who had insisted on making her acquaintance in the least and believed she had made her denial well known. But the amorous man had come back time and again, unwilling or unable to accept her refusal. She had been forced, in the end, to have the establishment’s hired muscle forcibly remove him. Everything had gone swimmingly after that, at least until he accosted her on her way back to the inn, knife and hurt feelings glinting in the dim evening light.

Celeste’s eyes shifted from the glinting knife to her discarded sword and back. She liked to fancy herself an adventurer, but she was little more than a novice who had barely picked up the basics of combat. She had managed to draw her sword, but the alcohol in her blood made her grip flimsy and her guard weak. It had been child’s play for the man to knock the blade from her clumsy fingers, drawing a deep gash down her forearm in the process.

A drop of crimson fell from the thug’s knife, landing with a plop in the muddy filth that Celeste’s oozing gash had formed in front of her. She wanted to scream, to struggle against her impending fate, but her body betrayed her mind, refusing to do anything more than stare in aghast horror.

I’m so sorry daddy, her voice whispered in the back of her mind, knowing that her demise would mean her father’s final death as well. The farmer kicked her again, spitting something vehement towards Celeste that her brain, mercifully, refused to process. The knife moved closer to her, gleaming evilly in the moonlight as it came. Finally, Celeste’s body heeded her call, allowing her to close her eyes before the world went cold.

Cold? Celeste thought, her mind slowly registering the unnatural feeling that crept over her skin whenever her father was present. Despite existing on the Anti-Firmament, Erik’s presence bled through to the living world, manifesting itself most obviously in the sense of dread that others felt in his presence.

Celeste’s eyes shot open, revealing a horrific sight. The famer’s face was frozen in a horrified grimace, his eyes bulging and thick tongue flopping from an open, silent mouth. Two hands were wrapped around his neck, digging into the fat rolls of flesh there hard enough to nearly disappear. Celeste trailed the shriveled, blackened fingers back to the rusty chains that wrapped around the greasy, wet flesh of the attached arms, her father’s arms. She knew in an instant that her father had saved her, and that the spirit had drawn upon his anger and rage to cross the boundaries between the two worlds to do so.

Manifesting was possible for Erik only by drawing on the pool of emotions that made up his spiritual essence. Doing so with his normal emotions, the warm, happy ones, allowed him to physically interact and be seen by the living for a short time, but only in very limited ways. Drawing on his negative emotions was a different story. He was always stronger when he did so, but using the darkness within him left its mark both physically and spiritually. Physically his form took on the nightmarish appearance of a sullen, drowned man wreathed in binding chains and oozing dark seawater. But though his appearance was terrifying, the true impact of drawing on his spite was internal. Erik possessed a limited supply of positive emotions that he could store within him at any one time, and drawing from that pool meant that it was diminished for a time while his connection to Celeste slowly built it back up. But Erik could tap into his negative emotions at any time, and doing so made them stronger rather than reducing them. If he were to draw too much or draw it too often then his Shadow, the self-defeating aspects of Erik’s personality, would be free to rise up and subsume him for a time.

“Run Celeste,” a hissing, waterlogged voice bubbled from the gaping fissure that Erik’s mouth had become. Celeste nodded frantically, her feet scrabbling in the dust for purchase as the terrifying apparition before her strangled the life from her assailant. Her hand somehow found its way to the hilt of her weapon and she fumblingly gripped it as she stumbled away from the murderous scene before her. She knew she should stop Erik from killing the man, but her mind was clouded with alcohol and too numbed by fear to do anything more than follow her father’s orders. Her father had killed for her before, and he would do so again this night.

Erik watched Celeste flee through the sunken blackness that was his eyes. The pig who had threatened her thrashed feebly in his grip, stabbing into Erik’s form every now and then with a knife that was quickly losing potency. Erik would have laughed at the man if his rage weren’t so overwhelming. After all, what harm could a knife do to one who was already dead? Snarling at the man’s struggles, Erik poured his vehement rage into solidifying him form, squeezing with all of the might that it gave him until the thug’s pulse slowed beneath his gauze woven fingertips. It was only when blank eyes and swollen lips stared uncomprehendingly into the eternal realms of night that Erik released his grasp.

Celeste watched from a distance as the thug’s body slumped into a heap in the bloodied dust. It was a vile thing that he had done, but Celeste couldn’t bring herself to feel pity for the man who would have killed her had ghostly vengeance not found him first. Her eyes sought her father’s spectral form, waiting for it to fade back into the Anti-Firmament after finishing its task. But instead of fading, the hollow pits of Erik’s eyes turned towards her, a darkness more complete than the night could ever be that instantly crossed the distance between them to lance through Celeste’s heart with a spear of terror. She knew, in a moment of supreme horror, that her father had delved too deeply into his darkness to save her, losing himself to the monster within.

The Shadow’s tight skin pulled back into a rictus grin, brackish water spilling from between his too-long teeth and withered gums. Once again Celeste found her voice frozen within her, her body unable to release the fear which wormed its way under her skin. But though she could not speak, no words were necessary as she turned and fled, stumbling through the dark, unfamiliar streets in a drunken, terrified stupor. She looked back every now and then, glancing over her shoulder as she wove her way unknowingly through the maze of dim streets and shadowy alleyways, hoping against hope that The Shadow would be unable to find her. But each time her gaze turned behind her, Celeste saw the wasted, oily figure keeping steady time behind her, matching her awkward run with a controlled, even pace.

The hopeless terror built within Celeste’s breast until she could run no more, forced to face the realization that there would be no escape from her inhuman shadow. The Shadow’s grin faltered slightly, as if disappointed that its fun had come to an end so quickly. It advanced on her, bringing one desiccated, chain wrapped arm up to lead the way, its fingers curling in a mocking beckon to the girl.

“Please daddy,” Celeste sobbed, slumping backwards against rough hewn brick wall, cradling her bleeding arm against her while holding her sword out shakily in the other. “Please don’t do this.”

“It’s alright sweetheart,” the thing wearing her father’s skin said, its voice like oil pouring welling up from the secret abysses of the dirt.

“Daddy please,” she begged, her voice frantic and cracking. Whimpering Celeste made a feeble, swiping motion with her blade, but the wavering tip slid effortlessly through as the spirit thinned its gauze and flowed over the solid matter.

“Don’t worry baby,” the spirit said, its mouth distending impossibly wide as it neared, “daddy’s here.”

[Revenant]

A hot, dry wind whipped across the rolling dunes, snapping at the solitary figure that stood at the top of the bank, clad only in the deepest shadows of the night. William looked around at the vast featureless expanse all around him, confusedly wondering how he had ended up on the desert plain, naked and alone. Thick black clouds rolled above him with unnatural speed, the dim red backlight behind them not quite making in through the blanketed night enough to illuminate his way.

“What’s going on here?” he muttered to the dark, his voice low and breathy. But if there was anything in the desert that could hear him, there was no reply other than the soft rushing of the dry wind brushing over him like the raspy fingers of the restless dead. Annoyance replaced confusion as William patience wore thin, ground to nothing by the gritty desert sand which rubbed abrasively in every naked crook the wind could find.

“William honey, is that you?” The distant voice came out of nowhere, startling William badly enough that he literally jumped. There was something oddly familiar about the voice, as if the memory of it lingered somewhere in the deep, murky recesses of William’s mind. It can’t be, he thought, whirling about confrontationally to face the voice’s owner.

All of the color drained from William’s face as the speaker came into view. Only moments before there had been nothing but darkened sand as far as the eye could see, but as William turned his vision was filled with the sight of a small, hand-built log cabin resting dutifully in the sand as if it had always been there. The structure was professionally built even though the design was plain and simple, and every line and cut was etched indelibly in the Revenant’s mind, which was not surprising considering the fact that he had built the shack with nothing more than his wood working tools and his own two hands.

But the log cabin wasn’t what stumped William. Wasn’t what made his limbs hang uselessly heavy and wasn’t what filled his mouth with the taste of sour ash. That honor was reserved for the woman who stood in the cabin’s doorway, her long chocolate hair silhouetted against the cozy entrance.

“Re… Rebecca?” William whispered, stunned.

“Dinner’s ready honey,” Rebecca said, beckoning to William with a shadowy hand, “that’s enough for today.”

William’s entire body felt numb as he stared at his wife. Rebecca had died so long ago that he could barely remember her and yet here she stood, alive and vivacious with a smile that lit the darkness around her.

“I’m dreaming,” he muttered, “I must be dreaming.” But dreaming or no William found himself walking hesitantly towards the cabin, one foot after another crunching softly in the warm sand. Rebecca smiled again as he approached, but went back into the cabin before William could reach her. “Rebecca,” he called out, reaching for her with a lunge but only catching the cabin’s door as it closed. “Rebecca open the door,” he called out again, forcibly shoving against the wooden portal which refused to budge.

A momentary surge of panic washed over William and he leaned over, looking in the small window that he had set in the cabin. Inside the front room, Rebecca went about the business of readying the table for dinner, pulling the bubbling stew pot off the low burning fire. She didn’t notice the fiery ember which rolled out the fireplace after her, smoldering on the threadbare woven rug.

“Rebecca!” William shouted, pounding on the window. “Rebecca look behind you!” But try as he might, William was equally unable to break the window or get Rebecca’s attention. Even when the smoldering ember leapt suddenly to flaming life, Rebecca went about her task obliviously, ladling thick stew from the pot. William moved back to the door, hammering against the wood first with his fist and then, as a thin line of smoke began to creep out, with his shoulder.

“Rebecca!” he screamed, over and over, returning to the window when he realized that hammering on the door would be useless. The interior of the cabin was entirely ablaze now, tendrils of fire curling over every surface in sight. A moaning wail escaped William’s lips as he watched the fire crawl over Rebecca, though she remained entirely oblivious to the embracing flames. Finally, Rebecca set the stew pot down and momentarily disappeared behind the back wall. William’s frantic attacks against the stubborn window ceased as she came back into view, carrying a wrapped blanket in her burning arms.

Even William’s moan faded into horrible silence was he watched Rebecca approach, her beautiful hair burned away and her skin blistering and cracking as the fires ate her flesh. Tenderly, despite the horrific wounds which marred her, Rebecca stepped up to the window and smiled at William, acknowledging his presence for the first time. She held the bundle out towards him, proffering it like a gift.

“Look William,” she said, unwrapping the bundle even as her eyes burst and her skin melted. William followed her instructions, taking his eyes from the horrible sight long enough to see what it was that Rebecca held. The contents of the ashen blanket were too horrible to comprehend, though the charred mass of ashes and twisted flesh might have at one time been vaguely reminiscent of a human shape.

“Look William,” the ghost of William’s past said again, offering the child up to its father, “it’s a boy.”

[Silence Sei]

The chair that she sat in was quite comfortable. The purple cushion underneath relieved her of her tensions, and the cushions behind her relaxed the girl almost into a slumber. The heat from the fireplace, a simple thing, burned a good five feet away from her drifting form. She had decided to cuddle up with a good book tonight, though the title and author escaped her in this dreary state.

Outside, the winds howled, accompanied by the melodies of both the wolf and the owl. Why had she decided top buy such a lavish home? She was a single woman, and a house as gigantic as this was made for a royal family, not somebody who had just stumbled into fortune on a whim. Yet, this large room, living quarters roughly fifty by fifty feet, sated her hunger for always wanting more. At least, it did for now.

Her eyelids began to close when she heard the sound of three thunderous booms coming from behind her. She had no friends to speak of, and all of her family was gone. Who could have been visiting her at this time of night? Shifting herself out of the throne that was supposed to be her bed, she approached the door.

As each click of her blue high heels rasped across the boards below, her eyes shifted at the rather empty living room. She had just enough time this afternoon to gather firewood, move her bed to her room, and place a ivory Victorian style dresser ten feet top the east arm of her chair. The chair itself had been there when she moved in, and rather than throw it away, she had decided to make it hers. One man's trash was another's treasure, after all.

She finally made it to the door, opening the massive oak thing with the sound of wood moaning. She saw nothing ahead of her, nothing but the stillness of the night. Outside, trees seemed to be dying from lack of food or some sort of nutrient that they required. The wind blew once more as she shifted her head to the left and right of her mansion's front door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw a figure every time she turned her head. Yet when she moved her eyes to where she thought the form was, she found nothing.

Must have been my imagination. She thought to herself. She closed the door with that same familiar howling sound. The shouts of the wilderness had stopped now, and a strange chill filled the air. It was now that she had realized her fire had burned itself out.

She was in perpetual darkness, all alone, just her and the chair. She approached the throne once more, settling down in it. Her body was much too tired to continue to read, and her bedroom was too far off to rest there for the night. Besides, she felt a strange connection to this chair. It was her resting place, after all.

As her eyes began to shut once more, another sound filled her ears. she looked to the east of her, and saw the same figure, lurched over her Victorian dresser. Filled with rage that somebody would dare infiltrate her house and go through her things, she shot herself up. The heels made a loud clap as they hit the floor, causing the black cloaked figure to turn around. The face was hidden by the ebony cloak that was draped over is form, but his size was like that of a six foot man.

Yet she wasn't scared, she was furious. He would not steal her things, she would not back down. She would defend her home, her dresser, and her resting place. She stomped her way towards the stranger, each foot hurting a bit more as she made her way to her destination. The sound of one of the dressers drawers shutting came to her attention. Soon enough, she was looking directly at the figure, she reared her hand back and attempted to slap this person with all of her might.

Yet, when she had should have found flesh, it found nothing. The robed figure dissipated as if it were made of smoke. She stood dumbfounded for a moment, looking around. Sleep deprivation, she decided, That's all it is." She looked back to her dresser with a smile. An eyebrow rose up, as she noticed something a bit off. She had always been a perfectionist, always made sure that all of her drawers were closed, all of her sheets tucked into a bed.

But the top ivory drawer was slightly open. It was the faintest of cracks, and nobody but her would have even noticed such a trivial thing. She reached for the golden handles on each end of the drawer, and pulled it open.

Her eyes widened as she felt the sting in her neck. She grabbed her jugular and gasped. The slender form of the snake hissed and reared its body once again, attempting another strike. As it flew at her form, she stumbled back and swiped with her good hand. It had worked, and the snake was sent flying into the fireplace. Ash and charred wood splattered about the room, assisted by an angry sounding hiss. Whether the hiss belonged to a burning snake or an agitated one, she did not know nor care.

She stumbled back. She had no means of contacting anybody, and even if she did, who would she call? She had no friends, and all of her family was gone. As the crimson lifeblood began to spurt out between her fingers, she found herself once again near her chair. Her body slumped down into the purple cushions, her eyelids slowly closing. She opened them one last time to see the hooded figure once more.

It reached for its head, and removed its covering, she gasped and pointed towards the stranger, who was anything but. The features were that of her, golden blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and pale skin like that of a milky beauty. She had not seen someone intruding, she had been having a premonition of the future.

"Its time for you to sleep now," the ghostly apparition of herself spoke, an echo added along to the voice. Her eyes closed for a final time, hearing the words that would be the ones left to her in life, and would forever haunt Anita Orlouge, daughter of 'Silence' Sei Orlouge, in death.

"After all, it is your resting place..."

[The Trap Master]

It had only been a few days since the death of Anna Shelby. Her father had sunk into a deep depression. John had, at one time, been an officer, a man people respected. Yet, after the death of the girl at the hands of some N’Jal freaks, John had stopped going to work. He was fired within a week, nearly homeless within two. He had lost everything that he treasured, so what point was there to living? He was already dead inside.

He walked through the market district of Corone, not expecting to find anything, but needing to get some fresh air. The overweight man needed to be outside more and more, as his house was just a constant reminder of everything he had lost. As he reflected on the good times with his family, John had suddenly been interrupted by some sort of toy being shoved into his face.

“Try it, its fun!” the thick accent belonging to the merchant exclaimed. He squeezed the toy, a doll that appeared to have real human hair, a porcelain face, and a body made of stuffed burlap. It was quite the strange creature, and the man squeezing the thing caused it to let out a humorous squeaking sound. John couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of the thing. It was the first time he had smiled in a long time.

Reaching into his pocket, John pulled out what the merchant had asked for the trinket, and pocketed the thing. He then continued his walk, continuously squeezing the doll as if it were some sort of stress reliever.

When he got home that night, John placed his brown trench coat on the coat rack, and began to undress. It had been a long day, and he needed a shower before bed. The cold droplets hitting his skin was a constant reminder to the man that he had not paid his gas tax, and thus had no heat in the house. Of course, such a depressing shower did not take long, and John got out of the bathroom in a matter of minutes, still using his towel to dry out his hair.

As he made the trek through the living room to his bed room, John had to stop for a moment. Looking to the coat rack, the former detective noted that there was a hole in his jacket. It was odd, as John had placed the toy in that pocket, but the object was nowhere to be seen on the floor. He had held it all day when he was outside, so it couldn’t have fallen out there, and it didn’t even look that valuable for somebody to come in and take. Besides, his door was locked.

John retraced his steps back towards the bathroom, eyes scanning the pile of clothes he left in the wake of his journey. He had noticed that there were a feet small residual splash marks made around the clothes, far too small to be his. John bit his lower lip, chills being sent up the officer’s spine as he continued to make his way into the bathroom.

As he looked around the area, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. A single tower lay on the floor to soak up water, his shampoo had been left on the side of the tub where he had put it. Everything seemed unordinary. Shelby turned, deciding he would find the figurine in the morning, and made his way back to his bedroom.

John woke up in the middle of the night to the pitter-patter of feet. Rising groggily from his bed, the detective scanned the area around his room. He could find nothing around, so he fell back into the mattress, attempting to settle himself once more. The same noise came into being once more, causing John to wake up with a new vigor. He looked around, frustrated from being disturbed once more.

Slowly, two small burlap hands found their way onto the foot of his bed. John’s eyes widened as he watched the doll he had purchased earlier climb up onto the bed, a pair of scissors in the things hands. He was frozen as the once inanimate toy made its way up to his chest, pointing the sharp utensil at his neck. The points of the blades stung the flesh, but had not drawn blood. Not yet at least.

“Do you wish to be with your daughter, John Shelby?” the doll asked, a sinisterly deep voice resonating from the thing. John took a hard swallow of air and nodded. He had been too much of a coward to kill himself after Anna’s death, perhaps this was fates way of ending it for him.

The scissors were slowly pulled away from his neck. John quirked his eyebrows up as he looked to the animate object. “Well that’s too bad. You see, you have a job to do. There are people out there, John Shelby. Bad people.”

“People that need to be taught lessons…”

[Jasmine]

Inspired by a series of scary stories I recently watched acted out on stage.

A cold wind blew over the desolate hilltop, ruffling the long grass and moaning through the trees below. It was pitch black with a new moon. The stars twinkled brightly, but starlight is nothing to go on. A lone cabin stood buffeted by the wind at the top of the hill. Most of its windows had been busted out. They stood agape like empty eye sockets. The wind keened shrilly as it passed through them causing the few remaining wooden shutters to bang loudly against the walls. The door creaked as it moved slowly back and forth in the wind. The latch to keep it closed had rotted away years ago and now the door swung freely whenever there was a heavy enough wind.

From below the cabin two balls of flickering orange light made their way steadily up the hill. Three figures made their way by the light of the torches. Each garbed to protect against the chill autumn wind. Two of the figures were boys; they carried the torches. A young girl walked between them, arms wrapped around herself to further protect against the wind. She sighed as the roof of the cabin came within sight.

“You guys don’t seriously think this place is haunted do you?” she asked, pushing a stray strand of long black hair back over her ear. Her hair hung to her waist and was smooth and black as the purest ebony.

The taller of the two boys smirked, “Nah, but I bet you two won’t stay the whole night. It’s pretty scary up here, especially with a wind like this. Ooooooooooo!” He waved his free hand in front of the girl’s face as he made what he believed to be a ghostly sound.

“Stop it, Stephen! This was your idea. Besides, I know why it’s supposedly haunted and I don’t believe in ghosts. It’s just a silly story, right Jas?”

The young girl of 14 years looked at her 'ghost' friend and rolled her eyes, “Yeah, Paul is right. It’s just a silly story. There’s no such thing as ghosts. It’s all a trick of the mind and I’m not scared.”

Stephen chuckled and led the way further up the hill. He was a tall lad of 16 with brown hair and mischievous green eyes. It had taken him and Paul a lot of cajoling and careful work to convince the princess to sneak out with them. They loved to pull pranks and had thought that tonight would be an ideal night to pull a huge one on the princess. His buddy, Paul was shorter and two years younger than Stephen, though his hair was blond and he had blue eyes to rival Jasmine's. He followed the older boy incessantly. He looked up to Stephen and aspired to be just like him. Thus, when Stephen suggested trying to scare Princess Jasmine at the Haunted Cabin, he was all for the idea. But, now that they were actually on the hill both boys were starting to have second thoughts, though would never have admitted it to each other or to Jasmine.

At last they reached the cabin and went inside. They set the torches in a bracket in the center of the main room and prepared to sit out the night circled around the torches. As they sat there, Stephen looked between the two younger teens and smirked, “So, do either of you know the real story behind this place?”

“What do you mean ‘real’ story? There’s only one,” Jasmine objected as she rubbed her hands together for warmth.

“The thing about the family all being killed here is true, but it’s not them that haunts this place. They were just casualties of the true haunt. The true haunt – what was that?”

Stephen voice pitched a little shrilly as he broke off his narrative. A particular strong gust of wind had rattled through the cabin and blew out their torches. He stood up, digging in his pockets for his pocketknife and the matches to relight the torches. Voices could be heard all around them whispering in a hissing kind of voice.

Coming for you…death….run…it’s coming… kill…maim…coming for you…

“This isn’t funny guys!” Jasmine said a little more shrilly than she intended.

“It’s not me!” Both boys said in unison with a tiny tremor in their voices. Stephen at last found the matches and lit one, revealing the terror in all their faces. “It was probably just the wind. I’ll go check it out. You two wait here.”

Jasmine did not think they should separate for any reason

“But – “

“Wait here,” he repeated firmly. The match burnt out, but Stephen did not light another one. He knew the cabin was empty and wasn’t worried about bumping into anything. Besides, they needed to save the matches for later.

While he went outside the cabin, Paul and Jasmine took their seats again. Neither was willing to admit the terror rising within them. Then, just as suddenly as before, the voices came hissing back.

Coming for you…death….run…it’s coming… kill…maim…coming for you…run…RUN

As the voices faded a bloodcurdling scream tore through the moonless night. The hairs on the back of Jasmine’s neck stood up as she called out loudly. “Stephen? Stephen I know that was you! You’re not being funny!”

But Stephen did not answer. A few minutes later, Paul got to his feet, shuffling around in the darkness. “He’s been gone too long. I’m going to go look for him, okay?”

“NO! Don’t leave me by myself! I’m coming with you.” She scrambled to her feet and felt her way to the door. “Besides, s-safety in numbers, right?” She couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice. Paul joined her at the door, glad that she was insisting on coming along. He hadn’t really wanted to go out by himself anyway.

“All right, but stay close, okay?”

The princess nodded and the two teens moved cautiously outside the cabin. They circled it several times before concluding that after letting out his scream, Stephen must have found a hiding place to further his act. Becoming more agitated and scared as the night wore on, Jasmine started to think about giving in and going back to the palace.

“So, what was he saying about the real haunt? Do you know, Paul?”

“Oh, yeah,” the boy said, trying to sound nonchalant and confident. “Supposedly one of the family was really into dark magic and a spell went bad, really bad. It called forth a blood thirsty creature that could come and go at will, but couldn’t be controlled. Free of the magic that had it contained, it slaughtered the family. But since the spell wasn't dont properly, it still couldn’t leave the hill.”

“Seriously? That’s it? Some magic monster? I think I like the other story better. Hey, where are you going!?”

“To take a piss if you don’t mind!” While Jas spoke the lad had ventured on around the corner of the cabin ahead of her. As he disappered around the voices came yet again.

Coming for you…death….RUN…it’s coming… kill…maim…RUN…coming for you…RUN…RUN

Jasmine covered her ears and huddled on the ground, trying to block out the noise as her breathing quickened almost to the point of hyperventilation. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she heard Paul scream as loudly and shrilly as Stephen had done. When it had been silent for several minutes she got up and called out in the darkness.

“Paul? Stephen? Come on guys, where are you? Paul? I’m really scared guys, you win! Can we go back to the palace now? Stephen?”

She called out again and again, not daring to try head back to the palace alone. The minutes dragged by as she called out, her voice growing hoarse and trembling more and more as she searched desperately for her friends.

Coming for you…death….run…it’s coming…

“No, no, no! Not again! Go away!!” she yelled as she covered her ears once more.

kill…maim…coming for you…RUN…RUN…too late… too late…

It was the change of words that drew her attention and she looked up. There before her was a creature unlike any she’d ever seen. Despite the lack of light, she could see perfectly the terrifying creature that stood before her. Its face was pure white, with dark holes for eyes, gaping maw full of sharp teeth and no nose. It wore a flowing robe of black that blended into the night and fluttered in the wind. From the sleeves of the robe hung two huge claws, dripping in a dark liquid she realized must be blood.

…too late…

The voice that called out seemed sad, but Jasmine did not notice. For as the voice spoke one last time, the creature bolted toward Jasmine, claws and dripping fangs bared.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHH”

Her high, shrill scream echoed across the land, unheard by anyone save for an owl or two as they ghosted through the night seeking prey.

When morning came, a group of searchers warily climbed the hill as they followed the tracks left by the teenagers. The only traces to show that they had been there at all were the tracks on the ground and the cold torches in the center of the cabin. Not a single piece of clothing or hair was left to show what might have happened to the teenagers. It was clear that the kids had come here, but there were no tracks leading away from the hill or of any other person or beast that had been with them. After several hours of searching and finding no clues, the searchers were forced to accept that maybe, just maybe, this hill truly was haunted and the kids had been foolish enough to see for themselves exactly what haunted it.

[Amber Eyes]

Kyla smiled up at Sei as he gave her sister a final farewell hug and sent the girls on their way. Only recently had the girls been given a bit of freedom to roam freely from the tomb. The arrival of the Ixian Knights had forced Sei to give up some of his overprotective tendencies. He had an army to lead, and the girls were almost twenty. Kyla grabbed Anita’s arm and led the way. They weren’t going far, just a few miles. Kyla had been walking through the woods one evening and found a perfect place to camp. She and Anita set up their tent and made a fire. The girls spent the next several hours goofing off and telling stories. They talked about life and love and the dreams they had of the future. It was an awesome evening spent just being sisters, something Kyla’s post as a general had taken away from the girls. When Anita began to yawn the two girls laid out their sleeping bags near the fire and talked quietly as they waited for sleep to come.

Silence finally came and Kyla lay awake staring into the fire. She was watching the embers dance in the darkness when she heard a twig break nearby. The sound pulled the girl to attention, though she didn’t move. She listened intently for another sound. Moments later she heard the sound of shuffling feet and she quickly pulled herself to her feet. She looked around the small clearing but beyond the firelight she could see nothing. Kyla looked down at Anita who was sleeping peacefully, and grabbed her sword from the pile of clothes in which it lay. She left the clearing hoping she could scare off whatever animal she may have heard.

Kyla took quiet careful steps, listening for any possible noises around her. She felt chill bumps rise on her arms and neck and felt a cold she couldn’t blame on the chilly evening air. She closed her eyes tightly. You are being silly, there is nothing out here. You have walked the woods a hundred times, stop being such a coward. ] She opened her eyes and saw movement up ahead, See? Just an animal. Nothing is going to hurt…

Kyla’s thoughts were stopped as a scream reached her ears. The sound made Kyla’s heart race in fear and it took her several moments to place it. “ANITA!” She screamed as loudly as she could, “I’m coming, it’s okay!” Kyla raced back to the campsite, her bare feet digging into the sticks as she ran. She reached the clearing and everything was gone. “Anita! This isn’t funny,” The young mystic cried as she turned around in the now empty clearing, “Stop playing around.” Even as the girl said the words she knew Anita couldn’t have moved everything in the time she was gone. Anita was asleep, she’d seen it herself. Kyla looked in confusion at the fire in the center of the clearing and that was when she saw it. It was a bracelet, which matched Kyla’s own. It said one word, ‘Sister’. Tears filled Kyla’s eyes as she saw the blood dripping from the item.

She spent the next half hour wondering around the area, desperate to find something that would lead her to her sister. Eventually she realized she was not getting any closer. She ran home as quickly as she could, the now dried blood from the bracelet covering her hands. When she finally reached the tomb she raced to find Sei. If anyone could help her it would be him. She reached his study and flung open the door, but he was not there. In fact, Kyla soon realized the entire tomb was empty. Even the guards of the estate were not at their posts.

Of course! Kyla realized. Sei must have sensed the trouble long ago. At this very moment there were probably over a hundred of the greatest warriors to ever walk Althanas searching for Anita. A sudden tiredness hit Kyla, finally sure some one else would take care of everything her body began to protest the long night. There’s nothing I can do out there that someone else wouldn’t be. Not to mention that Sei is probably ready to kill me. I’m sure I’ll wake up and see Anita. Kyla dressed herself for bed and made one final silent prayer before she quickly drifted off to sleep.

She slept for maybe an hour before she again heard a twig break. Confusion filled the girl’s mind as she opened her eyes. What would have made that sound in her room? She looked and at the foot of her bed stood Anita. Her eyes were swollen and dark. Her cheeks were pale. Her face seemed to show no emotion. “Anita, is that you?” Kyla stammered as she backed away on the bed. The figure of Anita did not answer but instead took a slow step towards the girl. Kyla held in a scream and ran from the room as quickly as she could. She made her way to the kitchen, hoping someone from the staff was there, cooks didn’t help with rescue missions did they?

She slipped as she made her way through the door and had to pull herself to her feet. Though she couldn’t see anyone she had the feeling something was following her. She ran across the table right as Soup Nazi entered from a different door. He looked exactly as Anita had, the same dark eyes and expressionless face. The same awkward steps towards her. He cocked his head to the side as he got closer and Kyla searched the room for the exit.

Through the doorway marched Sei, another victim of whatever was going on. Any hope she had left the girl at the sight of her uncle. Behind him came Taka, then Adolph and Stephanie. Several other staff members came in the door that Soup Nazi had come through. Within moments every current member of the Ixian knights seemed to drift in one by one. Kyla searched each person’s emotionless eyes as she noticed they were beginning to surround her. “Please, Please stop it!” Kyla screamed. “I didn’t mean to leave her!” They crowded around behind her, so many familiar faces without the familiar emotions behind them. She plead with each of them in turn, crying their names hoping someone would hear her. She searched the crowd just as the first of the mob began to get within reach, and she saw that one of the mob seemed to have a half smile on his face.

Jensen Ambrose was smiling! “Jensen!” She called, but the smile was gone the moment she spoke. There had been something there though, I can get through to him! I just have to get past the others! Kyla created her shadow sword quickly and held it in front of her, the people in front of her seemed to pause, but only for a moment. I can’t do this, this is my family. Kyla hesitated and what used to be Taka grabbed her arm. Fuck it! Yes I can! She held her sword above her head ready to strike.

“Kyla don’t!” Anita’s voice reached the girls ears and she nearly collapsed with the tears of relief that hit her. “Were you really about to kill us? Really?” Kyla looked to her sister. Then to all the others who were wiping off bits of makeup as they laughed and nudged each other. Kyla, filled with relief and an new found fury pushed her way through the crowd. “Oh don’t get mad Kyla, it was just a joke!” Jensen grabbed her arm. In one swift motion Kyla turned and punched Jensen in the face as hard as she could. “ Let her go. Sei’s familiar voice filled her mind. She’ll laugh about it later. ”

[Duffy]

"What you must do, is learn to love yourself again." It sounded so simple, but Duffy wasn't the sort to be anything short of blunt.

"Love...myself?" She cocked an eyebrow and fiddled with the feathers in her hair.

"Show me the way to be your friend in the absence of love...I don't want you to lie, or pray pretend...just show me."

"How?"

"When Tantalus gave Wainwright all his power, Wainwright in turn gave his troupe his...our powers come from facets of a Thayne's creative talent...we are connected to that power...The Aria, and it is through drawing on that we can see Lillith again."

"My spellsinging?"

"Precisely - you have within you the power to sing The Last Song, and The First Cantor. When Wainwright sang the First Cantor he gave us immortality, when you sing the Last Song, you will rescind that power, but gift to us one final life. We shall remember all our chances, and fight on one last time to rectify our ills."

A delicate breeze rushed through the needle heights of the two pine trees, and both matriarch and patriarch of the Tantalum stared at one another for a long time in silence. They mirrored one another's understanding, and one another's desire. Like the two trees, they stood side by side for centuries without question, never truly concious of one another's presence for too long.

"How will I learn of this song?"

"You already know it, Ruby, it is in your heart. The Aria gives us everything, every song, poem, verse and rhyme and book ever written in this world and every other - it is buried beneath that mercury sea, but it is there!" He began to express his urgency with his hands, moving them cupped up and down to add pronounced danger to his words.

"You expect me to just pluck it from the aether and save the world?" She raised an eyebrow.

Duffy sighed. He began to walk from the tree's cover towards the end of the cliff, and stopped to teeter on the edge.

"Duffy...?" Ruby said calmly, her body suddenly tense and stiff.

"Duffy??" She started to run forwards, but stopped a few steps in case she frightened him.

"Let me go, as I have learnt to let you go...we can never be together, and we can never hate one another...so show me the way to be...show me the passion in your heart is as strong now as it ever was...we have been given life by a soulless being, but in time, we have gained our own souls...we have every right to live now as any human...as any elf, as any god, monster or martyr..." Duffy looked over his shoulder and Ruby instantly started to advance, com-pulsed to saviour.

"So live, Duffy, LIVE!" She screamed.

Duffy Bracken, Captain of the Nine and Tantalum of the Gods fell delicately over the edge. With a rush of wind, he felt the distant foam of the churning rapids splutter against his cheeks. The blood, now dried and cracked fell away like all hope, and he descended without a struggle to his end.

Ruby crested the edge of the cliff and she peered down amidst her screams of horror. She fell to the edge and leant over, scrabbling at the air as if she held the power to stop his death in her hands. She saw his eyes briefly flash in the darkness as he turned mid-air and let his arms hang out to his sides before vanishing into the abyss.

She felt his light go out in The Aria, and she lost all sense of being.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

((WARNING: SUGGESTED AND IMPLIED THEMES))

“Dad, would you tell me a bedtime story tonight?” Azza asked as Jensen finished tucking her into bed. She draped the blankets up to her chest and looked to him with pleading eyes, and the immortal smiled sweetly to her. When she asked like that, how could he refuse? Nodding his head once he sat at the foot of her bed, his daughter grinning brightly as she rose the blankets to just under her chin as she got ready.

“So this is the story of the dreaded two dollar whore!” Jensen whispered, so low only Azza’s ears could pick it up.

“JENSEN AMBROSE!” Stephanie shouted all the way down the hall in the front room. The knight winced to hear his love shout his name with so much angst, and regrettably he rubbed the back of his head.

“Will unfortunately have to be told another day.” Jensen looked to the hallway and sighed. “So what do you want me to tell you a story of?” He asked cupping her face in his hand and minding her horns so not to bring them to attention. Though she felt safe to reveal them to her father and mother, she was still rather self conscious about them.

“I wanna scary story!” She demanded with excitement. Jensen rubbed his head again, as ghost stories and their ilk were never his fortay. Shrugging the immortal nodded again and she smiled, raising the bed sheet to her nose and peaking over the edge. Jensen stifled his giggle as he thought about the ultimate scary story. When he had an idea he began to speak in a deep, dark voice. He figured if he could emulate it right, he would sound like Seth Dahlios. What he actually sounded like was a hooker who mentioned they had syphilis like it wasn’t a big deal.

“A long time ago, there was an old haunted mansion. Four kids and their loyal companion with down syndrome decided to investigate this so called mansion…”

~*~*~

“Yeah, it will be the best idea ever!” A child like Jensen shouted with glee. Child Stephanie and child Kyla both thought about it as the idea seemed rather scary. Child Sei looked to Jensen and pondered it over himself, before nodding slowly.

“I too have to wonder where all the good vignettes went,” Sei steepled his fingers in calm. “And I, being the greatest frolicking fairy king of all time and super smart haxors da masters of strategy and all things nerdy, have an idea where we can find them! Old Remi’s mansion on Dahlios Hill, near the Ravenheart Cemetery of Duffy lane, located smack dab at the cross street Dirks Street.”

“Rather descriptive, nerd!” Jensen teased. The girls all giggled as Sei shrugged pulling out his spectacles that made his eyes bug out. He took in deep heavy breaths and walked forwards to Jensen, pointing to old Remi’s manor.

“It’s my specialty,” Sei said with pride. “I happen to take great pleasure in knowing my details.” He took more deep breaths as his mouth was held slightly agape. Jensen rolled his eyes as he pushed past him, looking to the girls.

“Don’t worry, he may be the biggest nerd in town, but he is smart. I’ll protect you ladies!” Jensen said slyly placing one hand between each back of the girls. He escorted them forwards towards the ice cream shop. “I’m going to get supplies, make sure you grab the brawn of the operation in the meantime!” Sei nodded, still breathing through his mouth as he ran to find the muscle of the team, but stopping every three trots to take deep breaths from his inhaler.

“Now ladies,” Adult Jensen said with a grin. “Please tell me how I can be of service to you…”

~*~*~

“I thought they were kids,” Tobias sassed from outside the room as she leaned on the door. Quicker than a rabbit on the run Azza’s pillow covered her horns as Jensen turned fluidly to flip her off. Tobias Greenleaf, all around good person and faggot elf, smiled to Jensen and waved to Azza as she pointed back to the immortal. “Like I said, I thought you were all kids. So how come Jensen’s suddenly macking on Child Stephanie and Child Kyla…OH MY GOD, YOU’RE A PEDOPHILE!” She shrieked loudly.

Jensen sighed in frustration as footsteps came running down the hallway, Kyla, Zerith, Jasmine and Stephanie all in tow with big grins. Tobias turned to them and quickly began speaking. “He’s hitting on these little kids in his story for Azza!” The gossip was sweet as they all laughed to Jensen, who coughed loudly, pointed to his daughter, and then spoke rudely.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to put my little girl to sleep!”

“With that story?” Stephanie asked. “You and your sick fetishes…”

“Shut up!” Jensen whined as Zerith howled in laughter. There was a moment of joviality before Azza coughed, and everyone softly whined down. When their was silence she asked Jensen to continue.

“As I was saying, the four kids headed for Remi’s manor…”

~*~*~

“I brought…” Deep breaths. “Our…” More deep breaths. Inhaler. Deep breaths. “Brawn.” Sei looked to the ice cream covered mouths of his friends as Jensen clapped his hands of the dirt and pointed to Remi’s manor.

“Then forwards! To victory!” Jensen led the way as everyone followed him down the street, Kyla and Stephanie saying hello to their newest addition. Sheepishly, the brawn waved back, his face growing red. Also, his pants seemed to get a little tighter from all the female attention…

~*~*~

“What the hell is wrong with you Jensen?” Stephanie shrieked. “You can’t be saying dirty things like that to Azza!”

“Azza’s, what’s a raging dragon?” Jensen asked to prove a point to his darling love.

“When you surprise mommy during nap time by throwing candy in her face!” Azza replied quickly, happy to be of service to her father. There was silence, then there was laughter. Stephanie’s face went red as a strawberry, Tobias howling as she slammed her fist into the frame of the door. Zerith and Jasmine failed are containing their giggles as Jensen shrugged to the female knight.

“See, she’s old enough.” Jensen turned back to Azza. “As they got closer to the manor, they suddenly found that the door was eerily ajar…”

“Like a jelly jar?” Azza asked. Jensen looked to his daughter, shrugged again, and nodded.

“Yeah…”

~*~*~

“ALRIGHT!” Jensen shouted dripping his finger down the side of the jar. “Raspberry!” He licked the jelly, got more on his fingers, and offered the girls to eat some of it. They both gave him loving looks as they made their way over, bending at the waist.

~*~*~

“JENSEN!” Stephanie was beside herself.

“And found the key to the door behind the jar!” Jensen shouted rapidly.

~*~*~

“Bonus!” Jensen mumbled angrily. Upset the gods seemed to be ruining their fun. Sei looked inside, and then pointed to Jensen.

“You are the leader! I’m just a coward who hides behind my mystic protection!” He lifted up macaroni noodles that were all glued together in the shape of a helmet. “I can do this nine times!” Jensen grabbed the helmet and shattered it. “My noodles!” Sei whined. Jensen looked back to the brawn, and decided now was time to bring him forwards.

“William Arcus! Smash down that door!” William, who’s tongue was hanging out the side charged forward, slammed his head into the door, and it pushed open wider. William stumbled a bit in a circle, then nodded again. “Awesome job dude! Here, have a Willie-Treat!” Jensen tossed him some candy, and William greedily snatched it up and ate it.

“Ranks Rensen!” William said. Jensen patted the man on the back. One day, he’d probably be a danger to society, and it will be sad to see him put down. He’d have to save money up for the ice cream he’d buy. But that was for another day, as Jensen looked inside and found three suits of armor along the walls. When they walked forwards they could feel their gaze watching upon them.

“Jeepers Jensen!” Stephanie said fearfully. “I’m so scared. Will you lend me your big, strong arms to protect me, handsome devil of another realm who’s looks will never be duplicated again.” Jensen smiled casually, letting his hand reach out to hers and she took it. Jensen then knew he’d score that night.

~*~*~

“Score what?” Azza asked innocently. Jensen’s eyes widened again as Stephanie slapped herself so hard in the face it echoed in the entire castle.

“At a game sweetie. Who can go the longest before coming home,” Tobias offerd cheerfully. There was stunned silence, and ever so slowly the eyes of Jensen and Stephanie turned to the elf with murderous intent. The elf feigned a defensive shrug lifting her hands. “I’d assume Stephanie wins a lot!”

“Not if dad scores tonight!”

“I assure you sweetheart, your father won’t be scoring anytime soon.”

“Can I go back to the story?” Jensen asked. “Just then, in the darkness…”

~*~*~

“Are those suits of armor coming alive!” Sei shouted in fear. Kyla turned and inspected them, before snapping her fingers.

“These are fifteen hundred year old plate mail used by the army of Corone during the demon invasions! My father happens to own a few sets himself. Don’t worry, they can’t move on their own.” Kyla looked to the group with a satisfied smile. Everybody’s fingers lifted as one pointing to a suit that happened to be moving, the axe lifting upon its own accord and then dropping down. Kyla screamed, but it was William who made the save grabbing her shirt and releasing her puppies!”

~*~*~

“Dad, you can’t keep puppies in your shirt,” Azza interjected. “They squirm to much.”

“I know kiddo, thought it’d be fun for you,” Jensen mused rubbing his girl’s arm. She smiled as he continued.

~*~*~

So anyway, like I have been trying to say for the last twenty minutes, the sit came alive, Willie makes the save, and Sei lifts up his macaroni and tosses a ball at the armor.

“Mystic Blades!” The macaroni shattered doing nothing as the suit took a few steps forwards, awkwardly. He cried. “My genius is defeated! I’m so useless!” Sei cried. He didn’t just sob like a whiney bitch, but he bawled like a damned new born babe. Yet Jensen had a plan. He ran forwards, kicking the armor in the shins with a devastating slide, and the suit toppled over followed by a yelp of alarm.

“Oh no, my inferior elf brain was defeated by a god of battle. And damn is he so handsome and amazing!” A voice shouted from the suit. Jensen and Stephanie removed the helmet to find a child Tobias inside. She smiled to them with a wave, got out of the suit and looked to Jensen. “I was such an idiot. None of my wily elf tricks are a match for you!” Jensen snapped his fingers, pointing to her.

“Damn right!” There was then the sudden echo of dark chuckling, and the group made way for the bottom of the dreaded basement. When they arrived they heard dark shuffling, dark ominous words being spoken. They all leaned on the door, one head above the other as William did his best not to feel up Kyla.

He failed, by the way.

“Take this, and this, and that!” A woman’s voice shouted. “I’ll cut yuou to pieces, and ruin all of your fun! I’ll promote crappy themes and hide all the good games for myself! And my saggy tits shall rule this world!” Jensen looked to the oldest, most disgusting looking woman in the world, seeing Cassandra Remi in all her wrinkly, saggied titted glory. Jensen looked up to William, and the mentally handicapped child said it all.

“Ruh roh!” Jensen nodded, agreeing with the brute. They all planned a battle together, and when it was time they all ran forwards and attacked her!

~*~*~

“Jensen, sweetie,” Stephanie whispered to him as Zerith, Jasmine, and Tobias walked away down the hall giggling. “Azza’s asleep sweetie. Come on, story time is over.”

“BUt was it scary?”

“Not even in the slightest, my love. But what was the scariest thing this night was the shit you come up with.” Stephanie leaned down, and planted both her hands on his cheeks kissing him fully and deeply. “You’re a wonderful daddy,” She whispered to him. Jensen kissed her again, and led her down the hall before turning to their room.

“Wanna see if I can get past your goalie?” Stephanie pondered it, and with a devilish grin she whisked her finger to have him join her. They hit the bed quickly, passionately kissing as clothing was quickly removed. And then, when Jensen reached down to remove the final garments in his way, his hand grabbing an object that by all rights was not natural to a woman. He suddenly felt very hot, and not in the mood sort of way, but humid. He looked up to see if Stephanie noticed anything, but her face slowly burned away as William Arcus’ demonic grinning image looked right at him.

“I’m going to bread your butter, little boy, and then I’ll make you squeal like a piggy…”

~*~*~*~

Jensen woke up screaming his lungs out, awakening Stephanie as she shot her eyes open in terror. She quickly looked to her lover, seeing the cold sweat and the terrorized eyes of her boyfriend and quickly asked what’s going on.

“I had the scariest nightmare, ever…” Jensen whispered. Stephanie rubbed his back, then retreated under her blankets as Jensen shivered uncontrollably, reaching his knees to his chest as he looked at every shadow in his corners for The Revenant...

[Hysteria]

Some blood and gore, but not much.

Every day ends in night and every scream in silence. ~ Anon

I remember the silence more than anything, the deadly silence that one hears just before death. The sort of silence that sounds roars in your ears louder than any sound. I should have died then, died and left the world behind. Instead I went through the silence.

~ ~*~ ~

The town was small, barely more than a cluster of buildings. The locals were mostly farmers, with plots of lands around the outskirts of the town. They were good people, salt of the earth.

The sun slowly set over the town, dropping between the trees as the last rays of light faded. Shallow wind rolled lazily through the streets blowing a few pieces of litter around. A fog was slowly rising from the ground and its moist tongue licked the surfaces of the buildings. The streets were quiet, not a soul wandered them. Muffled voices could be heard from inside some of the buildings, scared quiet voices.

Talen stood in the centre of the main street as darkness spread. His face was quiet, serene even. His pale skin shone in the dwindling light with luminescent beauty. The boy looked up from a small black book and twisted his head to the side and smiled, his pale blue eyes flashed.

~ ~*~ ~

“Ok sweetie, time to go to bed.”

The child looked at his mother and smiled back at her. His mother was always warm and never above a hug. The little blonde boy was happy as he turned on his side and pulled his teddy close to his chest. The bear was a present from earlier in the day, lovingly crafted from old cloths by his mother; today had been a good day. It was a rare occurrence for William since his father had past away a year ago. Things were tough, but his mother did her best and even though sometimes he was sort of food, he never went without a kind word or hug from his mother.

It didn't take long before the child drifted off to sleep, but his slumber was interrupted soon after by a dull thud. The boy opened his eyes and looked around. The haunting moonlight through the fog bathed his room in a pale light. The boy tried to listen for his mother, but couldn't hear anything.

Slowly William climbed out of bed clutching his stuffed toy close to his chest. His big blue eyes moved around the sparse room as he walked towards the door. Silence urged the boy on, he felt drawn to find his mother. His little hand touched the door knob, turned it slowly and the door swung open.

The hall was empty. The boy looked down both ends and saw nothing unusual. The mothers room was just down the hall and William walked towards it slowly, his feet patting on the wooden floor as he went.

Quickly William was out the front of his mother's room and he turned the door handle as he had many times before. The door swung open and the child stood patiently waiting for his mother to speak as she always did. Silence. William moved into the room gripping the toy bear harder than before. A strange scent filled the room, a dirty, earthy scent that was somewhat familiar. As William walked further into the room he felt the floor was suddenly wet. He stepped backwards as the sticky liquid clung to his feet and the earthy odour was even stronger than before.

“Mum?”

Silence.

“Mum?” William tried again slightly louder.

This time there was a sound, a slightly ruffling of the sheet covers. William's feet splashed the liquid on the floor as he moved closer to the bed. His hand moved towards the sheet and touched it gingerly. It was wet too. The boy pulled back the cover and screamed.

His mother lay on the bed moving slightly. She has been completely skinned alive, her body nothing but a massive of muscle and sinew oozing blood. The bed, sheets and floor were drenched with blood but she had refused to die. Her lidless eyes stared at him and her mouth moved but no sound come out. William started to step backwards in horror, his face twisted with fear. Two cold hands grasp his head from behind and he stopped dead still. His eyes were fixed on his mother and he realised what she was trying to say.

Run.

The hands tightened around his head and he felt himself lift off the ground. The hands grew tighter and tighter and pain was eventually followed by darkness. Out of William's hands slipped the little Teddy Bear. There was a slight splash as it hit the pool of blood on the floor and then Silence.

~ ~*~ ~

In the streets of the small town screams echoed. As if on que, doors to the street flung open and people steamed out. Talen idly counted the ones he could see in the fog as he lent against a building in a small alley. People ran everywhere with no particular destination. Some bumped into each other and fell over, only to get back up and continue running around. Talen got to sixteen before the attacks started again. The fog thickened even more and dark shapes seemed to weave in and out of the fog.

A blonde woman of no more than twenty ran past Talen and caught her foot on a bump in the road and fell. She tried to stand but black hands grabbed her and shoved her down. She struggled and twisted but could not break free. Two more hands came out of the fog and grabbed her around the neck. Slowly they tightened and the girl's face contorted in terror.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Talen. She tried to speak but only a horse whisper escaped her mouth.

“Help... me...”

Talen looked at the begging girl for a second and then reached into a fold in his cloak and pulled out a small white wand. The youth held the small object above his head and it burst into light. The white light washed over the surrounding area including the girl and brushed the hands aside. The girl lay on the ground panting for air. She pushed her self up and stumbled over to Talen and hugged him. The youth was surprised by the girl's actions and gingerly patted her on the back.

“We have to save everyone!” The woman straighten up with one of her hands on Talen's and looked into his eyes, “I know you can.”

“You trust easily.” Said Talen as he gently laid a hand on the girls arm and lowered it.

Talen still held the wand in the air and sighed as the girl continued to look at him with hope filled eyes.

“I can end this, but if you stray from the light you will be killed.” said Talen as he started to walk down the street.

“We should try and find other people!” said the Girl.

“What's you name?”

“Jenny, but do..”

“Jenny,” Talen cut off the girl, “Can you hear anything but us?”

Jenny listened as the pair walked down the road. There was only silence.

“There are two people left from this town Jenny, you and the person who did this.”

The blonde girl was silence as they continued to walk. Every so often she saw a shape of darkness approach the pair through the fog only to be pushed back by the light.

“Alright.” said Talen coming to a halt out the front of one of the many nondescript houses in the town.

“Alessa's house?” Asked Jenny.

“What do you know of her?”

“She's a bit of a loner. She had a kid that died in an accident a while ago. What does this have to do with her?”

Talen didn't bother to answer. He walked to the front of the small house and pushed the door open. Like most small town people, they didn't lock their doors. The building was like so many others in the town; simple, made of wood and of average construction. The pair moved slowly through the house bathed in the white light of the wand. Talen stopped and pulled a book out of another pocket and flicked through the pages. He looked up and scanned the rooms and put the book back into its place in his cloak.

“Don't freak out and run, stay in the light.” Said Talen.

Jenny nodded as Talen walked over to a door and pushed it open. The room that they entered would have been one time a bed room, but it had since been altered into a shine to N'Jal. Around the room were desecrated items amateurishly placed around to try and cause the right visual effect. A few dead animals littered the room, apparently sacrificed to the Spider God. In the centre of the room was a woman sitting in a circle of protection and just in front of her a small pile of what appeared to be children's bones.

“Who are you?!” Screamed Alessa.

“Who me?” Talen was still looking around the room as he responded, “I am the one who is going to free you from your torture.”

Alessa shifted nervously where she was sitting as Talen walked forwards.

“The woman who lost her child blamed the town so much that she spent months researching how to summon a hoard of undead spirits to kill everyone in the town. Thats quite a feat don't you think?” Said Talen.

“How did yo..?”

“Alessa!” Screamed Jenny, “They were your friends! They tried to help you!”

“No one helped me! They lied, they said that it was an accident but I know it wasn't!”

“Jenny” said Talen softly, “She's mad, don't try and reason with her.”

Talen walked forwards and drew a sword. With his sword pointed at Alessa to keep her back he kicked the thin white paint that Alessa had used to create the circle of protection. Alessa cringed as the circle was broken but remainded sitting.

“This light is now the only thing stopping the spirits from entering the room.” Talen opened his mouth to say something but thought better and turned and walked out of the room with Jenny in tow.

The youth stood out the front of the room and looked back through the door. The light from the wand cast a long shaft of light to fall around Alessa. Just outside the light dark shapes started to appear from the floor and walls and massed on the edge of the light. Alessa's eyes widened in fear as Talen slowly closed the door and sealed her fate. Screams erupted from the other side of the door as Talen calmly walked through the house and outside.

Already the fog was lifting as Alessa spell was fading. Talen lowered the wand and its light faded. Jenny stood next to the youth as the gruesome scene on the street was revealed. Blood, limbs and bodies littered the road in terrible evidence of what had occurred just past sunset.

“Jenny, do you trust me?” Asked Talen.

“You saved my life, of course I do.” She replied.

“You trust too easily. Don't you think its weird that I only used the light to save you? That I wasn't attacked like everyone else?”

“I... I thought only people who lived in the town were attacked.”

“What about why I am here? Have you seen me before today?”

“Well no...”

“You know, Alessa made an alter to N'Jal and effectively sacrificed the whole town to her. However, one soul is not the same as another. Alessa soul was tormented, it was interesting and is dearer than say, the soul of someone who lived on a farm their whole life and never did anything interesting. More valuable is the soul of someone who survives a terrible event like this one.”

Jenny didn't understand what Talen was talking about.

“A soul slain by someone it trusts is even more valuable than normal. So you then, who survived this terrible event and trusts me would be very valuable indeed.”

With a swish of his sword he sliced across Jenny's legs. The girl fell to the street as blood dripped out of the large cut on both her legs. She tried to move, but Talen had severed the tendons just above her knees.

“To answer those questions I asked before. I am a servant of N'Jal and was sent to collect the soul of the one who was trying to summon those spirits. I was not attacked by them because they were servants too. I could walk in the light because I am not undead, I am a living shadow.”

Talen lifted his sword and stabbed it into Jenny's stomach. She screamed as he slowly twisted the blade and started to drag it through her stomach.

“I'll made this quick because I like you.”

~ ~*~ ~

My life ended that night with the rest of my town. I was the last one to go, killed after the rest by the strange boy dressed in black. He was the reaper and our town the corn. He played with me for a while, bringing pain greater than I had ever known. Then when he was satisfied he place the sword against my neck and sliced my throat.

I thanked him for the kindness as I died. He had only told me the truth during that night. He saved me from a life of emptiness and made sure that my end was worthy. He could have played with me for hours, bringing madness before the end and a begging for the pain to stop, but he was kind. He let me go as myself to the arms of N'Jal.

Items used were the Diary of Jane that allows someone to read any women's thoughts and the wand of elu-something, both purchased in the auction thread