Post by Iceclaw on Oct 28, 2019 19:56:52 GMT -5
hey howdy catch me cranking in at the last possible minute with my entry for mint's halloween town
uhhhh definitely not very spooky bc apparently horror is nowhere near my strong suit, but it is kinda bittersweet
prompt was lifeline, using my shiny new oc enjoy
--
The faint crescent of a moon hung low in the sky, fleeing the skeletal black branches reaching to claw it from the night. The branches shifted in the wind, creaking and moaning as they scraped each other in their haste to seize the moon. In the shadows below stood a caped figure with a large, sweeping hat upon their head. Their dark cape billowed behind them in the soft wind, the weak moonlight just barely glinting off the beak of the plague doctor mask.
Their eyes- mere pinpricks of glowing white light nestled deep in the hollows of the mask- rested on a town that lay nestled in the valley below. The town lay silent. Not a single candle’s light pierced the darkness. No sound could be heard but the wind whispering through the streets.
Out of the darkness slunk a black, razor sharp dog with eyes covering its entire face. Shadows drifted from it as it nudged into the plague doctor’s leg. The spirit knelt, fingers running through bristled black shadows before the dog turned and trotted off. The spirit followed and they descended into the town.
The plague had struck particularly hard here. Death cried out from each house they passed as they made their way down the street, turn, turn, into the alley, turn, further down the hill, turn, straight toward the bridge that crossed a glassy stream; the source of all the town’s disease.
The dog stopped.
Under the bridge lay a woman. Her hands lay limp in the water, fingers just barely twitching with the gentle pull of the stream. Her eyes were open, glossed over, unseeing.
The dog sat and the spirit knelt, touching one finger to the woman’s forehead. Her soul, a shimmering, translucent silver thing, split from her body with a gasp, sitting up straight while the flesh remained where it was. Her eyes found the spirit and she recoiled- or rather, tried to.
New souls never knew how to control their movements.
“You-” she breathed, eyes wide until they drifted down to her body. She blinked, then sighed. “You’re here for me.”
The spirit gave a single nod.
A wry smile crept onto the woman’s face. “Where will you take me? After what I did.”
I do not decide.
The spirit’s voice seemed to echo on the wind, whisper between the bubbling of water around her fingers.
Her eyes narrowed, red sparking in their depths. “I didn’t have a choice.”
The spirit’s head tilted to the side almost imperceptibly.
You lie.
The smile suddenly turned wicked, her silver eyes shifting to red as the glow of her soul darkened. A thick, bloody substance seeped from her.
“Clever clever little demon,” she cooed, rising to her feet with newfound control. “I know every devil that guides the dead, but not you.” She tilted her head imploringly, gazing up at them. “You were not supposed to come for me. Where is the spirit Re? Have I not earned the right to face them?”
Face them?
“But of course,” she purred, stepping closer. Her eyes burned feverishly. “I wish to challenge them for the right to be the spirit of death. After everything I've done, I quite think I deserve it. Now tell me, what type of guide are you, demon?”
The dog stood then, eyes opening on its neck and throat, down its back and along its sides. All of the eyes turned to her as the spirit stared silently at her.
We guide the lost and forgotten.
Her face froze, eyes widening. “What?”
The wind blew silently, ruffling the spirit’s cape.
Fury contorted the woman’s face. “How dare you?” she shrieked. “I poisoned an entire town. I killed hundreds, and I am to be FORGOTTEN?”
Yes.
A scream rose from her, darkness and wind whipping around her. Disease wept from her eyes, burning with delirious rage. “A plague,” she snarled. “A plague to end the world. A plague to destroy everyone. If I am to be forgotten, THEN LET IT BE BECAUSE THERE IS NOBODY LEFT TO REMEMBER.”
She lunged at them, only to pass through them as if they weren’t there. Shock flooded her expression. Whipping around, she tried again, clawed hands reaching for their throat only to slip right through.
“No!” she gasped, fingers sinking through their chest. “No I can’t- I don’t want- you tricked me!”
The spirit stood silently as she clutched at nothing.
“I will not go with you.”
Ghosts do not survive.
A dark, wicked grin full of pain spread across her face. “I might not survive, but what I become will make you regret this.”
You are lost.
She glared up at them. “So be it.”
Suddenly her hands were clutching the front of the spirit. She gasped sharply, as though she had been shot. “Wh- what-” Her knees buckled beneath her, her hands slipping from them to grasp at her heart. She opened her mouth in a silent scream, eyes glazed over with pain. Tears no longer flooded with disease fell down her cheeks as she crumpled in on herself, weeping.
"What did you do to me?" she whispered.
The eyes on the dog began to close, one by one, vanishing into the sharp shadows of its pelt until only the ones on its face remained. It approached her, sliding its nose beneath her hands, pushing through until she was clinging to it like a lifeline.
You were lost.
The words seemed gentler this time. The spirit knelt before her, white pinprick eyes glowing in the dark pits of the mask. They reached out, resting one hand on both of hers.
You understand, these hands did not have to kill.
She buried her face into the shadows of the dog, shoulders shaking as she wept.
Time passed slowly, the moon climbing out of the reach of the trees to shed weak light upon the three of them. Finally, she quieted and lifted her head, trembling slightly. Instead of a broken, vicious woman, the spirit met the gaze of a young girl. Gaze shadowed, she pushed herself away from the dog, turning to look back at the town.
“Where will I go?” she asked, voice cracking.
I do not decide.
The spirit rose, moving to stand behind her.
But you understand. That will help.
She bit her lip, looking back at them. “Was I always meant to be lost?”
The spirit tilted their head slightly to the side, considering her.
No one is meant to be lost. Some just lose their way.
She stared at the ground, then nodded slightly. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”
The spirit reached out, taking her hand gently in their’s. The dog fell into step beside her and together the three shadows slipped into the night.
Under the bridge, the body lay, fingers drifting in the water, sightless eyes staring at nothing. Slowly- very slowly, tiny pale blue flowers began to bloom from her. The body vanished, but the flowers remained, growing exactly where she had lay.
The stream trickled on.
The moon began its descent.
And the flowers remained.
uhhhh definitely not very spooky bc apparently horror is nowhere near my strong suit, but it is kinda bittersweet
prompt was lifeline, using my shiny new oc enjoy
--
The faint crescent of a moon hung low in the sky, fleeing the skeletal black branches reaching to claw it from the night. The branches shifted in the wind, creaking and moaning as they scraped each other in their haste to seize the moon. In the shadows below stood a caped figure with a large, sweeping hat upon their head. Their dark cape billowed behind them in the soft wind, the weak moonlight just barely glinting off the beak of the plague doctor mask.
Their eyes- mere pinpricks of glowing white light nestled deep in the hollows of the mask- rested on a town that lay nestled in the valley below. The town lay silent. Not a single candle’s light pierced the darkness. No sound could be heard but the wind whispering through the streets.
Out of the darkness slunk a black, razor sharp dog with eyes covering its entire face. Shadows drifted from it as it nudged into the plague doctor’s leg. The spirit knelt, fingers running through bristled black shadows before the dog turned and trotted off. The spirit followed and they descended into the town.
The plague had struck particularly hard here. Death cried out from each house they passed as they made their way down the street, turn, turn, into the alley, turn, further down the hill, turn, straight toward the bridge that crossed a glassy stream; the source of all the town’s disease.
The dog stopped.
Under the bridge lay a woman. Her hands lay limp in the water, fingers just barely twitching with the gentle pull of the stream. Her eyes were open, glossed over, unseeing.
The dog sat and the spirit knelt, touching one finger to the woman’s forehead. Her soul, a shimmering, translucent silver thing, split from her body with a gasp, sitting up straight while the flesh remained where it was. Her eyes found the spirit and she recoiled- or rather, tried to.
New souls never knew how to control their movements.
“You-” she breathed, eyes wide until they drifted down to her body. She blinked, then sighed. “You’re here for me.”
The spirit gave a single nod.
A wry smile crept onto the woman’s face. “Where will you take me? After what I did.”
I do not decide.
The spirit’s voice seemed to echo on the wind, whisper between the bubbling of water around her fingers.
Her eyes narrowed, red sparking in their depths. “I didn’t have a choice.”
The spirit’s head tilted to the side almost imperceptibly.
You lie.
The smile suddenly turned wicked, her silver eyes shifting to red as the glow of her soul darkened. A thick, bloody substance seeped from her.
“Clever clever little demon,” she cooed, rising to her feet with newfound control. “I know every devil that guides the dead, but not you.” She tilted her head imploringly, gazing up at them. “You were not supposed to come for me. Where is the spirit Re? Have I not earned the right to face them?”
Face them?
“But of course,” she purred, stepping closer. Her eyes burned feverishly. “I wish to challenge them for the right to be the spirit of death. After everything I've done, I quite think I deserve it. Now tell me, what type of guide are you, demon?”
The dog stood then, eyes opening on its neck and throat, down its back and along its sides. All of the eyes turned to her as the spirit stared silently at her.
We guide the lost and forgotten.
Her face froze, eyes widening. “What?”
The wind blew silently, ruffling the spirit’s cape.
Fury contorted the woman’s face. “How dare you?” she shrieked. “I poisoned an entire town. I killed hundreds, and I am to be FORGOTTEN?”
Yes.
A scream rose from her, darkness and wind whipping around her. Disease wept from her eyes, burning with delirious rage. “A plague,” she snarled. “A plague to end the world. A plague to destroy everyone. If I am to be forgotten, THEN LET IT BE BECAUSE THERE IS NOBODY LEFT TO REMEMBER.”
She lunged at them, only to pass through them as if they weren’t there. Shock flooded her expression. Whipping around, she tried again, clawed hands reaching for their throat only to slip right through.
“No!” she gasped, fingers sinking through their chest. “No I can’t- I don’t want- you tricked me!”
The spirit stood silently as she clutched at nothing.
“I will not go with you.”
Ghosts do not survive.
A dark, wicked grin full of pain spread across her face. “I might not survive, but what I become will make you regret this.”
You are lost.
She glared up at them. “So be it.”
Suddenly her hands were clutching the front of the spirit. She gasped sharply, as though she had been shot. “Wh- what-” Her knees buckled beneath her, her hands slipping from them to grasp at her heart. She opened her mouth in a silent scream, eyes glazed over with pain. Tears no longer flooded with disease fell down her cheeks as she crumpled in on herself, weeping.
"What did you do to me?" she whispered.
The eyes on the dog began to close, one by one, vanishing into the sharp shadows of its pelt until only the ones on its face remained. It approached her, sliding its nose beneath her hands, pushing through until she was clinging to it like a lifeline.
You were lost.
The words seemed gentler this time. The spirit knelt before her, white pinprick eyes glowing in the dark pits of the mask. They reached out, resting one hand on both of hers.
You understand, these hands did not have to kill.
She buried her face into the shadows of the dog, shoulders shaking as she wept.
Time passed slowly, the moon climbing out of the reach of the trees to shed weak light upon the three of them. Finally, she quieted and lifted her head, trembling slightly. Instead of a broken, vicious woman, the spirit met the gaze of a young girl. Gaze shadowed, she pushed herself away from the dog, turning to look back at the town.
“Where will I go?” she asked, voice cracking.
I do not decide.
The spirit rose, moving to stand behind her.
But you understand. That will help.
She bit her lip, looking back at them. “Was I always meant to be lost?”
The spirit tilted their head slightly to the side, considering her.
No one is meant to be lost. Some just lose their way.
She stared at the ground, then nodded slightly. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”
The spirit reached out, taking her hand gently in their’s. The dog fell into step beside her and together the three shadows slipped into the night.
Under the bridge, the body lay, fingers drifting in the water, sightless eyes staring at nothing. Slowly- very slowly, tiny pale blue flowers began to bloom from her. The body vanished, but the flowers remained, growing exactly where she had lay.
The stream trickled on.
The moon began its descent.
And the flowers remained.
