The Monsters We Are

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Solo. The events of this thread occur sometime during What Else Is There?

When I came to, I was surrounded by utter darkness. It was an inky, pitch-black nothingness. The ground I laid upon was hard and rocky. Underneath me, I could feel the pointed edges of stones and roots digging into my legs and back, sharper than they normally should be. I ached all over, physically and mentally.

I sat up and tried to regain my focus. My head was swimming; from what, I do not know. Poisons? No, impossible; I'm immune to that shit... Strange, unknown magics? That was unlikely. The last thing I remembered--

An indescribable voice that wasn't my own shrieked inside my head, rattling around and scraping the inside of my skull. I clutched my head with my briar-knit hands and grit my teeth, resisting the urge to scream with it.

The voice had shaken me down to the core of my very being, right down to my blackened soul. It was unnerving, and it left me feeling frightened as it faded out with a soft echo. My body shook as I sat there on the ground in the shadow-drenched night. I felt an unnatural chill creep through me, one that broke through the enchantments of my vest. I wrapped my arms around me tight and shivered.

I don't know where I am all. I cannot see a single gods-damned thing, nor can I hear anything, and I do not know how I got here.

For the first time in a long time, I am scared.

I hate uncertainty. I hate the unknown. And I am currently surrounded by it.

I started breathing heavier and heavier. Frantically, I searched around for a source of light--anything, anywhere at all--but found none. There was no sound at all, save for the rustling of the leaves as a light breeze blew through the branches.

Trees... Breeze... Am I still in the Red Forest?

The cursed wood was a terrifying enough place with several traveling companions during the daytime. Shape-shifting wolves, venomous reptiles of various sizes, deadly vines, flowers that will rip your soul from your body without hesitation. And I would be unable to see a single fucking one of them if they came after me right now. I took a deep breath. I had no torches, no light sources whatsoever on me. I was screwed. I took a step forward into the abyss.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Mere inches from my feet as I took that first step, a small blue glow emerged. I hesitated for a brief moment before I knelt down. What sort of curious thing was this? I brushed the object lightly with a briar-knit finger. It was soft to the touch, and bent easily. As it turns out, it was a small mushroom... A mushroom with a bit of bioluminescence.

Another one, slightly bigger, sprouted up from the ground next to the first. Its cap unfurled and cast off a similar soft, bluish light. I slowly rose to my feet. What the heck is going on here, I thought to myself. One by one, more and more mushrooms emerged from everywhere. They grew from the soft ground covered in moss, twigs, and rot. They grew from the trunks of trees, worming their way through cracks in the dead bark. They grew in the bushes, the leaves and vines failing to keep the tinted light from reaching me.

I slowly turned in a circle, my feeling of dread slowly dissipating with each new orb of light that glowed. I was still surrounded by the inky black night, but at least I could see in front of me now. I could clearly see the path that I was on, and the forest that held me in its deep, deadly embrace.

But... Where do I go? What do I do? Do I just stand here? Do I continue down the path?

As if it were answering my questions for me, the path ahead was slowly being lit up by the continually-growing fungus. I watched in awe as more and more, the way deeper into the deadly wood was revealed to me. The voice inside my head returned, less shrill, less violent. It whispered to me quietly. "Come," it said. "Come to me."

I spun around violently, looking for the source of the call. "Who are you? Where are you?"

There was no answer.

"Show yourself," I almost yelled. The return of the mysterious voice caused me to panic a little bit. Panic was not something I needed when I was alone in a place like this. Panic makes you do stupid things, like shout into the dark unknown. But I did it anyway.

"I swear to the gods, if you don't show yourself--"

My words caught in my throat as the laugh echoed all around me. It wasn't quite a laugh--it was somewhere between a cough, a chuckle, and a cackle, really. But it was incredibly unnerving. A shiver crept down my spine, and that feeling of dread that choked me ever since I regained consciousness once more had its icy fingers around my throat. I reached down towards The Last Resort, unsnapping the clasp on the leather holster and wrapping my vine-woven digits around the wooden hilt. I'm not sure what good the revolver would do me, what with the multitude of horrors that inhabited this place and all, but it made me feel safer.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The haunting, raspy voice returned. "Come, my child. Come to me."

My eyes scanned my blue-tinged surroundings, searching for the source of the call even though deep down I knew I would not find it. "No, that's quite alright, I'm happy where I am, thank you very much."

I could practically hear the unknown force smiling in my mind. Whoever it was, it knew that it had the upper hand in this situation. I was lost, alone, and scared. Behind me, there was some light rustling. Before I could spin around to address it, several gnarled branches from trees overhead drooped down and pushed me forward. I squeaked in surprise and jumped at the touch of their dead bark and brittle leaves on my back. I whipped around and swatted at the branches with a briar-knit fist. "Alright, alright!" I hissed.

Well, if the forest itself wants me to press on, who am I to argue?

I took my first few tentative steps forward. With each step, more glowing mushrooms grew from further down the path, continuously lighting my way through this strange place. There were no sounds but my boots crunching leaves, twigs, and dirt and the light breeze that rustled the dead trees above me.

It was a long while before I realized that, this entire time, I've been holding my breath. What was wrong with me? I'm stronger than this. I'm tougher than this. Nothing rattles me, dammit! I've stared down demons and psychopaths, made my home among a den of killers, and have shown those who thought themselves to be horrors what one is truly like. But why was I so unnerved now?

Was it that I had no idea whatsoever how I got here? Was it the dark unknown that threatened to suffocate me at any moment? Was it the voice in my head, beckoning me to keep moving towards an unknown fate?

Let's try and put some facts together, that way I can get back on track here. I was summoned to the Red Forest by Duffy Bracken and his stupid elf buddy Alistair. Their intentions were noble; to cure the ancient wood of the curse that had choked the life out of it for countless generations. I had originally agreed to the expedition in order to research the curse itself in order to find out how to take it into my own being first, help wipe it out second. We had been on the path deep into the wood for a couple days when a thick vine lashed out from the red-tinted bushes and wrapped itself around my throat. I felt its thorns grow, piercing my throat in multiple places, then I blacked out. And then I came to surrounded by utter darkness.

And now, here I am, walking down a fungus-lit path towards an unknown fate, an eldritch voice leading me deep into the abyss. Nothing to protect me but my wits and a flintlock revolver with a few dozen bullets.

I was so lost in the myriad of thoughts swirling around in my head that I nearly didn't hear the rustling of bushes behind me.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I spun around just in time to see the mass of fur, teeth, and muscle bound from the fungus-lit underbrush, arms reaching for me with nasty claws extended. There was no noise to alert me, and no time to prepare. I reached for my flintlock revolver, but was too slow on the draw. The wretched beast pushed me to the ground, knocking the gun from my hand. The iron piece spun away from me, hitting stones and twigs and breaking a couple of the bio-luminescent stalks as it continued in its path away from being useful to me.

I spat out a curse and grappled with the giant wolf. It was nearly as heavy as I was, and acted with far more ferocity that I could ever muster as a civilized human being--well, half-human now, thanks to some cultists in Eiskalt.

The black-furred beast's claws dug themselves into my shoulders, drawing blood that was a few shades darker than usual. Tears welled up in my eyes with each blast of fetid breath that hit me. It gnashed its teeth at me, trying to tear off my face for a bit of a late night snack. I had my hands around its snout and lower jaw, trying hard to push it off of me. With each effort it made to bite me, its sharp teeth peeled away bits of my vine-woven fingers. I pushed through the pain. I had to do something, and fast.

Four knotted briars erupted from my wrists, heading straight down the wolf's gullet. To say that the animal was surprised by this sudden change of events would be an understatement. You could tell by the look in its eyes that it was not expecting this kind of snack. Actually, you'd have to look at the sudden jolt of fear its eyes, because any attempt it made to cry out was stifled by a throat full of writhing, gnarled vines.

The wet, slimy feeling of the creature's innards pushed a wave of bile up my throat. I tried hard to both loosen the wolf's grip on my shoulders and push myself out from underneath its bulk while cramming more and more vines into its mouth. It violently wrenched its head left and right, trying desperately to free itself. But, it was too late. I was sure that I had pushed my way into the creature's stomach. Immediately, the lengths of vine began secreting acid.

The effect was immediate. The violent shaking of the wolf picked up with a sense of urgency, as it futilely fought for its freedom. I withdrew the vines from the animal's throat, drawing out melted scraps of muscle and gore with them that splattered harmlessly against the dirt of the forest floor. The smoke that comes with searing, melting flesh began pouring from the open mouth of the wretched beast as it finally bolted off me. It made a sound that I'm sure was supposed to be a cry or a howl; instead it was more like the mewling gurgles a newborn baby would make.

Wasting no time, I was on my hands and knees, frantically looking around for The Last Resort. As the beast writhed and coughed and spat up bits of its rotting esophagus just feet away from me, I spotted the firearm a good ten feet away, resting up against one of the thousands of mushrooms that offered up a soft blue glow. I scrambled across the small clearing and snatched up my beloved revolver.

I rose to my feet, cocked back the hammer, and took aim at the dying wolf. I've heard tales and read stories about the dangerous shape-shifting beasts that dwell within the Red Forest; about their tenacity, about their ruthlessness, about their endurance. The dark, twisted beast was in my sights, and a tattered, bloodied finger was pressing hard against the trigger.

The bullets wouldn't be necessary. The wolf was in its final moments, acids quickly working to dissolve his insides as it stumbled around the clearing. As its movements slowed, my heartbeat quickened. My gaze shifted around the clearing, my mind no longer on the beast before me. There would be others. There's always others. That's just how these things go.

My finger was still tight against the trigger of the gun. I waved the barrel around me in a complete circle; waiting, just waiting for the next one to leap from the darkness that suffocated me.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Right on cue, another one of the oversized beasts exploded from beyond the blue glow of the forest. Thunder and fire burst from the barrel of my flintlock revolver, the iron bullet cleanly entering the wolf's skull right above its left eye and bursting out the back of its head, bringing bits of bone and brain with it. The damned thing went limp in midair, collapsing to the ground in a lifeless heap.

I cocked back the hammer and hurriedly spun around to look for more attackers when I felt a heavy weight hit me in the back. I cried out and fell to the ground, dropping The Last Resort once again (I really need to wrap the grip in spidersilk or my vines or something so this stops happening). My jaw smashed against the hard-packed dirt of the forest floor, an errant stone slashing my chin along the left side. Warm, sticky liquid began oozing out, pooling on the ground and mixing with the dead twigs and red leaves that littered the area.

Immediately, I felt a pair of strong, powerful jaws close around my neck. I began to panic--if I didn't do anything, and fucking fast, this would be the end of me. Teeth tore into flesh, drawing more blood and releasing the metallic scent into the air to lure more of the fiends closer. In that moment, I made a desperate play. Before the wolf could wrench my spine in a manner that would greatly inconvenience me with an untimely death, I grew two vines from my neck and began to push against the insides of the drooling creature's mouth.

The wolf fought back with an intense growl, trying hard to bite down against the briars. But after a few seconds, I was able to pry it loose, freeing me from its vice-like grip. I grew two more lengths of vines from somewhere on my right arm and wrapped it around the neck and upper body of the animal, pulling it off my back with all my might.

It yelped in surprise as it tumbled ass over head several feet away, but quickly righted itself and prepared to pounce again to finish the job it started. I was able to get up to one knee. I was bleeding from my neck and shoulders, and my fingers were a tattered mess of plant matter and crimson ooze. My breath was ragged, and adrenaline was coursing through my veins. "Come on, you bastard," I hissed at the wolf through a snarl that matched the intense bloodlust of his.

These animals were really good at hitting their spots and following cues, for it leaped at me once more, blood-specked teeth bared and glowing blue from the light of the fungus. I extended my right arm, forming a thick pool of acid in my hand that crystallized into shards of not-quite-glass as it mixed with the humid air. At the last second, I rolled out of the way of the beast and brought my shard-covered hand up as it sailed past. The razor-sharp collection of crystals scraped against the wolf's throat, effortlessly slicing through fur, flesh, and muscle. Foul-smelling blood burst from the freshly-opened jugular, splattering against the ground as the animal collapsed to the ground. It twitched around for a few seconds before its life left it with an unceremonious whimper.

I knelt on the rough ground, surrounded by death, blood, and acid. Thank the gods that the attack seemed to be over with. I started breathing deeply in order to slow my heart down a bit and calm the hell down. The poor thing was about to explode, it was beating so fast. For the first time in what seemed like forever, all was quiet once more.

Eventually, I mustered up the energy to rise to my feet. My neck throbbed with a dull, pulsing pain as I stood. I winced and grit my teeth. I would need to do something about those wounds, and fast. There was no telling what kind of shit was on the teeth of the wolf that bit me. I know that they say that the mouths of dogs are cleaner than men, but given that these were the animals that eked out a life in the cursed Raiaerian forest...?

I slowly walked over to where my gun laid on the ground, and knelt down to pick it up. That's when I heard another low growl. I looked up to see a fourth wolf emerge from the blue-tinted brush, its eyes glowing with anger and death.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" I screamed, tired of all of this shit happening to me. In a blur of motion, I picked up the gun, aimed it at the skulking beast, and pulled the trigger. There was another burst of fire and thunder, and the space between the wolf's eyes exploded in a shower of blood and bone.

As its lifeless body collapsed to the ground, another light cackle echoed in my ears.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"Well now... Aren't you a curious little creature..."

I ignored the cackling, disembodied voice and began working. I dragged each of the fresh wolf corpses through the small, fungus-lit clearing and piled them up on top of one another in stacks of two. They were not... whole, per se, but they were still in decent enough condition. I wouldn't need functional, intact brains in order to raise them from the dead. While traditional zombies may need them, the things that I create can work just as well without them, thank you very much.

I could feel the mysterious presence smiling. "Yes, a curious little creature indeed. Very powerful, very... angry."

My eyes drifted upwards towards the dark canopy of the woods as I worked, adjusting the weight of the corpses to prevent them from sliding off one another. "I am not a creature," I said flatly.

"Perhaps you would rather be called a monster instead?" I froze, my feelings twisted in a mess of emotions the moment I heard the M-word. It was the one word I hated the most. I am not a fucking monster, no matter what everyone thinks. Monsters act on impulse and instinct. Monsters are monsters because they have no other means of interacting with the world around them. I am not a monster.

As if the unseen presence could read my thoughts, it continued with a hint of sick glee in its voice. "No, of course you aren't a monster. The blood of untold numbers on your hands..." I tried my damnedest to shut out the voice as its laugh echoed in my head. I wrapped up piling the wolf corpses and reached into my traveling satchel for a small knife and a small bottle of antiseptic. I began work on one of my pant legs, cutting the cloth from below the knee and tearing a wide strip of the material off.

"No, you're not a monster at all, spreading your disease across the world," the voice prattled on, much to my annoyance. I grit my teeth, trying hard not to snap at whoever it was speaking into my head, reading my thoughts, playing off my hatred of what I've become. "You claim that you are not a monster, Freebird." A small chill crept up my spine as the voice uttered my name. "But you are simply in denial. You have been in denial about your true nature for years."

I braced myself as I poured the antiseptic into my cupped hand and brought it up to my neck. The sharp jolt of pain caused me to cry out as I worked the alcoholic mixture into the open wounds covering my neck from the wolf's attack, hopefully killing whatever might be in there even though I knew full-well that I was immune to whatever might have been living in the deceased beast's mouth. It was more of a force of habit thing than anything else. I dropped the antiseptic, opting not to take care of the wounds on my shoulders and fingers, and wrapped the stripped piece of pant leg around my neck in order to stop the bleeding further.

Leaning back over towards the pile of corpses in front of me, I extended both of my hands. The vines in the palm of my hands parted, showing off two thick, blue fungal pods. I pointed them towards the faces of the wolves--or what remained of them, anyway--and fired off two bursts of Nemo's Marionette. The cordyceps spores entered the nostrils and mouths of the beasts and began working to revive them. If I were to survive in this forest for much longer, I would need help. And they do say that dog is man's best friend...

The presence smiled again. "Yes, a most curious little monster indeed. Come, Freebird. Come to me. Let me unlock your true potential."

I gazed up into the dark abyss again, weary, exhausted, and annoyed. "Fuck off. I'll get to you soon enough." The presence promptly did so, content to wait however long it took.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

It was a long while before the wolves stirred, their lives renewed thanks to Nemo's Marionette. In that time, I sat there cross-legged on the floor of this cursed forest, undisturbed. There was nothing to keep me company but the stench of blood and melted flesh, the soft glow of bio-luminescent mushrooms, and my own thoughts. I kept returning to the one word that the voice taunted me with.

Monster.

"I am not a monster," I caught myself softly muttering to the absolute emptiness that surrounded me, that choked me.

Whoever the voice belonged to, it knew the right words to say. Whoever the voice belonged to, it was aware of the atrocities I've committed. It knew about the thousands I condemned to die through blight and sickness in Eiskalt. It was probably aware of my actions regarding Kyla Orlouge and Lichensith Ulroke. It knew of all the throats I've slit, skulls I've caved in, and blood I've turned to poison just to make a few pieces of gold as an assassin. It knew of the innocent lives I've spent in order the obtain the power I've long craved and searched the world over for. Of the innocent old man who died by my hands so I could make a deal for knowledge with Maladim.

Maybe the voice was right. Maybe I am the very thing that I'm afraid of actually being.

I violently shook my head. No, no no no. I am not a monster. Everything I've done has been done with a purpose. Everything I've done I did because I had to. This was my path in life. This is what the fates have desired from me. It was unfortunate that the path I've walked would be one that would allow people to label me "horrible" and "evil"; but this was my path to walk, my burden to bear, my lot in life.

Besides, I knew many, many others more horrible, more violent, more wretched than I am that were deserving of the label of monster. Hells, I'm even friends with a few of them. These are people who kill on a whim and destroy the minds and lives of anyone unlucky enough to cross them on a bad day. These people deliver their own particular services with a smile without a second thought. I am not one of these people.

I am not a monster.

I don't even like what I've done. I've acted out of necessity. I've acted in the ways I've done so because that's how I am. That's how I was raised. That's the only way I know how to do things. I can't help it that I've become extremely... good at what I do. Acting and reacting in the ways that I've grown accustomed to, most of which end up with people hurt or dying... That's it. That's the only way I've ever learned to interact with the world. I'm conscious of my actions as I commit them, I'm aware of the consequences of my crimes. I do not like them. I do not like what I do. But it's the only way I've known how to go about life. And, I have to admit, it does come incredibly easy to me...

The concept swam around in my jumbled miasma of feelings and memories. I thought about it long and hard, sitting alone in that darkened abyss of the forest, with nothing but a pile of corpses keeping me company. I thought about the chain of events that brought me here. I thought about my interest in the curse that held its death grip on the Red Forest, and about my own personal desire to harness its power for my own uses, and for the Crimson Hands' uses as well. I inevitably thought about the hell that such power could and most certainly would unleash throughout the known world once it was under my control. I found a small grin forcing its way onto my face, only to suddenly be replaced by a frown born of a sudden, horrible realization.

Maybe the voice is right. Maybe I am a monster.

The M-word lingered for a second as the first of the wolves stirred. One by one, oozing bits of congealed blood and torn flesh, their fur matted down by viscera and dirt, the beasts rose to their paws. Stalks of dark bluish fungus grew from their necks, folding over one another and braiding themselves into makeshift collars. I reached out mentally, contacting them one by one. They answered with feelings of eagerness and obedience, their prior urges to tear and rip my flesh apart long gone. I rose to my feet, dusted off the seat of my pants, and crammed all of my thoughts into a mental box labeled "deal with this shit later". "Come on, let's go," I cooed softly as I continued along the fungus-lit path deeper into the woods.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I traveled undisturbed for what felt like hours. The undead wolves flanked me, two on each side, keeping keen eyes out and ears perked up as they searched for telltale signs of trouble but never finding any. With each step down the twisted dirt path, new stalks of fungus grew ahead of me on the ground and within the trees, continuously casting a soft blue glow throughout the cursed wood. If it wasn't for the uncertainty and death that stalked me throughout the darkness, I would have probably thought that it was a beautiful scene to behold.

For my entire journey, the voice I had been hearing since I came to in the darkness had been silent, thank the gods. The path widened with each passing... mile? Yes, by now, I must have walked miles. Two, three, twenty, I was not sure. I was not sore or fatigued from all the walking. The only pain I had felt was from the bites that my companions got in on my fingers and neck, and even now it too had quieted down to something more like a dull throb. But back to the path. Slowly, had it widened itself, opening up from roughly five to ten feet on either side into another clearing the size of an arena. Dirt and stone had turned to neatly-cut grass. Glowing fungus continued to grow with each passing step, but its illumination reached no further than the edges of the small field deep within the forest.

I paused for a moment, and the wolves came to a stop at my heels. They looked up at me expectantly, like a group of pet Retrievers would. I peered into the darkness ahead of me trying to make out any sort of shape or hint of an object, but finding only the inky blackness of the abyss. I was starting to get anxious as the seconds ticked by. I pursed my lips, tapped my foot against the short grass, and clicked my tongue. One of the wolves--well, one that had a fully-intact face, anyway--looked forward and began to sniff the air. It took one good whiff of something I could not sense, and lowered itself. A thick, heavy growl grumbled from deep within the beast. I looked down at it briefly. "What is it? What's out there?"

Moments later, mushrooms burst from every conceivable surface in the clearing, saturating the area with bright blue light. I close my eyes and wince briefly before slowly opening them once more. Stood before me with a metal gate set into low brickwork that was choked in vines--thick, gnarled, dead masses of vines that broke through the wall like it was paper. Beyond the gate, I could make out the battered remains of a three-floored house that too had bio-luminescent fungi growing from its walls and briars--some as wide as tree trucks--woven through its shattered windows and stonework. It was a maze of rotting plant matter that long ago embraced this odd little manor nestled deep within the forest in a death grip--

--Wait just a fucking minute, I thought to myself as a wave of incredible dread came over me. All of the blood drained from my face, my heart began racing, and I absentmindedly clenched my briar-knit fists until my knuckles turned white (or would have, if I had them). I know this place. I know this house.

The pattern of the rusted iron gate. The well off to the right of the crumbling manor. The intricate, well-kept garden of deadly alchemical ingredients in front of its face that was now overrun with thorny vines. It was all very, very familiar to me. "This is my family's home," I said out loud. My voice sounded incredibly foreign to me. It was soft, and it carried a hint of fear in it.

What the fuck was my home doing in the middle of this gods-forsaken forest?

What in every conceivable hell in existence was going on here?

The voice in my head... The mushrooms lighting my path... The attack of the wolves... Everything... Is this all a dream? Am I just making all this stuff up?

I started to get very confused and incredibly angry with the lack of answers. "Alright you stupid bitch," I roared into the nothingness of the forest. "Tell me what the fuck is going on, right now! Tell me before I hunt you down and force an answer out of you!"

The voice that had tormented me what seemed like hours ago returned, louder than ever. "In due time, my little monster. In due time."

As I stared slack-jawed at the ruins of my childhood home before me, the echoing laughter rattling around inside my skull, my pack of zombified wolves turned to my left and all hunched over. It took me hearing several seconds of their half-growling, half-gurgling noises before I turned to see what had grabbed their attention.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Three figures emerged from the shadows, lurching towards me. With every inch of ground they covered, the growling of my companions intensified into a dull roar. Teeth were bared, claws were digging at the dirt, my little pack of bloodthirsty killers were just itching to tear the intruders into tiny little shreds.

I stood there frozen as the trio advanced. I squinted hard into the blue light, trying to get a good look at them. After several seconds, however I did--and immediately, my throat closed and my stomach tied itself in knots. These weren't ordinary faceless arrivals. All three of them were my friends.

Diggs, Hedge, and... and Nell. Poor, sweet little Nell, who dropped everything she had in Corone to make the trip to Salvar with me to become my assistant only to be abandoned when I joined the Crimson Hands under the excuse of keeping her safe and distanced from my horrible activities.

I felt numb. These were my friends. My closest friends. Three of the only people I could trust my life with, and confide every deep, dark secret I had. Three poor, unfortunate souls that I would do anything for to keep them safe from the world around us.

And here they were. Their faces were pale, their expressions blank, their clothes tattered. Diggs' thick glasses were set askew on his face, the right side dragging across his cheek. Hedge's dark, shaggy hair was matted down and clumped together by what appeared to be blood, and his leather armor was sliced cleanly through across his chest to reveal muscle and bone underneath. And Nell... Her sun dress had little bloodied gashes in it everywhere... And to my horror, there appeared to be a piece of jagged piece of glass jammed into her eye, which caused crimson and gore to leak down her smooth features...

A little voice deep down inside me said that it wasn't glass that was embedded in her socket, and suddenly I felt really sick. Every fiber of my being shouted down this intruder, telling it kindly to go fuck itself with whatever rusty object was convenient for it. The voice calmly whispered back that it was surprised that I'm surprised, since horrible things have a tendency to happen to those who get close to me, and then remarked with a sadistic sort of glee that said horrible things also have a tendency to happen by my own hand...

I knew it was right, and it made me even sicker. I thought back to the band of mercenaries I gathered after Lichensith disappeared in Eiskalt and everything went all to hell. There were three survivors out of the twenty-one souls--myself, and two of the figures slowly drawing closer and closer.

Beads of sweat were forming on my forehead. My lungs quickly filled with purple plague smoke in a fit of panic. No, this is all a dream, I kept telling myself. It's all a dream. None of this is real. One of the wolves looked up at me and let out a confused whimper.

Nell's head twitched and wrenched up towards the sky, cracking her neck. I could see that, emerging from her throat, were interwoven stalks of a dark blue fungus. The Marionette. One of the many unique things growing and festering inside my body. And it had somehow made its way into my three friends, three of the only things I care about in this wretched, horrible world. It had raised them from whatever horrible deaths they suffered.

And now, they were here before me. Drawing nearer with each breath. Their hands outstretched, grasping for me, for my flesh and blood.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

A flicker of thought entered my mind. Hey, you stupid bitch, if they're infected with the Marionette, then you should be able to telepathically talk to them, right? It works for everything else you've stuffed, breathed, or injected it into!

The voice was right. I tried to reach out through the air to my friends. Tried to contact them, tried to get a response.

"Diggs... Hedge... Nell, sweetie... Please... Answer me."

There was no response.

"Fucking answer me for the love of gods!" I screamed into the forest. A single tear streamed down my face while my voice cracked as it escaped my throat.

The only answer I heard was the warning barks of the wolves as they drew closer to me in a semi-circle, protecting me from my three friends. Their best efforts did nothing to deter the three of them. They continued to shamble their way towards me. Diggs craned his head up, and I noticed that a throwing dagger was nestled neatly in this throat, hidden by layers of folded fat.

I wiped the tears from my face. A defeated plea escaped my lips. "Please, just answer me..."

A croak sounded from one of the trio. It was Nell. "M... Ma... Mah-mah-mah Madisssssssssson-on-on..." I took a step backward. The sweet sound of her voice drained the color from my face and made my entire body go numb. It was the wonder tones I associated with Nell; but there was something... something horrible behind them. Her words were filled with vitriol. With hatred. With a burning desire to see me suffer for some crimes I did not commit--the crimes of her untimely demise and resurrection.

No, dammit, this is only a dream! This is nothing more than a bad dream!

I wanted to believe the shouting in my head. I really did.

Diggs stumbled a little bit, and noises came from his mouth that sounded like an attempt at speech that was blocked by the knife embedded in his throat. Hedge simply offered a bestial snarl at the pack of wolves at my feet. Nell's neck wrenched again, and she blinked. The piece of glass--I kept telling myself it was just glass--twitched in her eye socket. She spoke again, her haunting tones filled with sheer malice. "Ma-aaadisonnnn.. How... How c-c-c-ouuuuld you... Do thiiiiissssssssssss--"

"I didn't fucking do anything to you! I would never do anything to you--to any of you! I swear on my life!"

Hedge chuckled through is undead sneer. Nell shot a crazy eye at the mercenaries, and then locked her gaze on my own frightened eyes. "You... you... did this. Alwa.... Always diiid this.... Always will... Will do this. Baaaaad th-th-th-thiiiings happen to every... everyone around.... you..."

Another round of hot, salty tears streamed down my face. These words she said, dream or not, were cutting my heart out. Each syllable was like a fresh laceration on my very soul. "Nell, sweetie," I said, my voice shaking and unsure. "I would never--"

She shrieked, her voice soaked with an impossible amount of anger and venom. "Yes--yes youuuu d-d-did!" My assistant raised an accusatory finger at me as she lurched on. "You did th-this! Your ffff... fault! You... you you youyouyouyou mmmmmooooonnnnsssst--"

I never let her finish the word. "SIC 'EM!" I howled. In a flash, the four fungus-infected wolves were upon my... what remained of my loved ones as I bolted through the rusted iron gate and into the Freebird manor.