29 Nov 2024, 01:23
Scream for Me
The moon hung like a blind eye over Hogwarts, pale and indifferent as Aamon slipped through the dormitory door, its ancient wood creaking as if trying to betray him. He was concerned that one of the Slytherin Prefects would hear him make his escape. He was not entirely sure of what he was escaping to or from, he just had this formless urgency that compelled him to leave his dormitory night after night. His palms were slick, his breath short, but still he pressed on, past the cold stone walls that had so often turned him back before. Every other time he’d tried to venture out, the weight of his fear had crushed him before he’d even made it to the staircase. There was this childish notion that if he ran away, that he would be safe from them, nameless companions that he had briefly believed to be his protectors when they were gifted to him months earlier. Companions that were more than met the eye, originally formless, simple dolls that resembled Amish dolls. Protectors that sometimes took things too far. Well-meaning friends that promised to end his suffocating loneliness. His affluence had earned him many riches, but he was a pauper in terms of companionship. Yet the truth of his companions came to light as their features started to resemble him, from the mismatched eyes to the tuff of thick brown hair and the square jawline. Then people started to get hurt, driven away by their violence. At first he thought they were coincidental accidents, but they began to come with such frequency that he quickly concluded that they were behind it.This thread is open to up to 2 additional users. Once two users join, it will become a private thread for just the three of us.
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He tried to discard them, his friends that resembled him in such an eerie way. He threw them into the lake, from the astronomy tower, buried them in the earth. Only to return again and again. He considered contacting his elder brother, a recent Hogwarts graduate who had a penchant for dark magic but he feared his brother more than he needed him he believed. He just needed to run away, embark on the geographical cure and place some space between himself and those three monsters he reasoned. He did not know where he was going and a part of him knew that he would never get far. He did not even have a bag, but he did have a pocket of galleons, not that he understood fully how far a pocket of gold coins would take him.
He just thought that a little time away, a day or two would help him set his thoughts right. So on this evening he would make it down the hall and even up the stairs. Tonight was going to be different. With a brisk pace, often looking behind him, Aamon would walk towards the front door of the castle. Stealth was never his forte, but it was late enough that even the prefects would have retired for the evening. He would slip out into the chill of night, wearing little more than his nightclothes and he would shiver, immediately regretting his decision.
He had went far enough, a terrified part of his mind told him. He turned around and reached for the door, as his hand curled around the handle he would hear an audible *click* from the other side. Someone had locked it. His heart would hasten with this revelation, he would look to either side as if he expected someone to be standing there with their hands on his hips rebuking him for his carelessness but nobody was there. Uneasily he would try to open the door only to confirm that it was locked.
He would need to find another way inside he silently reasoned, fearful of trying too hard and disturbing whatever was truly on the other side. He would turn away, hear a creek and turn fast only to see nothing behind him but frosted blades of grass.
Ans then the whispers started.
"Come, Aamon," they called, light and teasing, their voices soft like children’s laughter but edged with something that prickled under his skin. "Come play with us. We’re waiting. Don’t you want to play?"
He did not recognize the voices, those were not his 'friends' or were they? "No" he called out into the darkness. Aamon didn’t want to play. Or maybe he did—he wasn’t sure anymore. The whispers made it hard to think. His fear twisted inside him, coiling tighter with every passing moment.
He resisted, looking back at the door. He tried to take a step back towards the door but found himself unable to. Rather he stepped in the opposite direction of the door. An uncanny pull that was too strong for him to resist, magnetic, thrilling. It felt like he was leaning over a ledge and daring gravity to do its worst.
The grounds stretched out in silvery silence. The air was sharp with frost, and the lake lay unnaturally still, its mirrored surface reflecting only the stars. He walked, no he was pulled away from the Scottish castle. He would find himself near the shore of the lake, passing along the southwestern edge. As he passed along the stony shore, the reeds at the water’s edge seemed to shiver.
"Aamon," the whispers sang, their tone turning sweeter, more insistent. "We’ve been waiting for you. Don’t you remember us? We’re your friends. We’ve missed you." He tried to stop, their childish voices reminding him that he was under some sort of spell.
He didn’t recognize the voices, yet they were uncannily familiar, like hearing a song from a forgotten dream. He knew what they were from what they had said. He was never escaping them, they knew and they were watching him. The voices were knew, strange and disembodied. Emboldened by an unknown and unseen power. The way they dragged their syllables, syrupy and slow, made his grip tighten around his wand that he had fished out of his pocket. A tool, a rod of power. As if he could stop it, utter some nonsense and solve this riddle with power alone. Still, his feet moved forward, carrying him over the slick grass and down the gentle slope toward the Forbidden Forest.
The trees loomed ahead, their skeletal branches cutting jagged shapes into the darkness. Shadows tangled like black thread, but the pull dragged him onward, past the point of reason.
"You’ll love it here," they whispered. "It’s so much fun. You’re one of us now."
He tried to stop. His brother had warned him about the woods, especially on nights like this when the moon had gone dark. He planted his feet, tried to dig his heels into the frozen earth, but something unseen yanked him forward. He fell hard, the breath knocked from his chest, and clawed at the grass, his fingers scraping at the cold soil. But it didn’t matter. The force was relentless, dragging him toward the waiting trees.
The forest loomed larger, its shadows yawning wide like a mouth ready to swallow him whole.
"Closer, Aamon," the whispers cooed, their chiming laughter echoing in his ears. "We’re so close. Don’t fight us. We’ve waited so long for you."
Aamon screamed, his voice tearing through the stillness as he clawed at the ground, desperate to anchor himself. But nothing stopped the pull. The voices giggled, as if his terror was the punchline to a cruel joke.
"Don’t be scared," they giggled. "You’ll like what we’ll do. We promise."
And then, in the blackness beyond the trees, something stirred. A shape shifted, silent and waiting.
Note to users arriving: you do not hear these voices, you see a kid screaming acting as if an invisible monster is dragging him into the woods.
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos
29 Nov 2024, 01:47
Scream for Me
Avis was out past curfew. Again. She couldn't really say why. She definitely didn't miss her family and definitely didn't have insomnia. She made her way through the castle, hoping to get some fresh air. Or maybe look at the stars. Stars were absolutely beautiful, a wonder of creation. There was something about them that just calmed her, knowing that her sister could see the same stars. She made her way out to the grounds and threw her cloak on the grass, lying down and staring up at the stars, hidden in the shadows. She found her favorite constellations and passed the time simply breathing. Finally, her eyes became adjusted to the dark for the calmness to be quite so effected, she felt herself tire and began to stand up to head inside.
Then she heard the screaming. She bolted upwards, no longer tired, adrenaline rushing, hands shaking. She dashed across the grounds, her cloak forgotten, abandoned in the grass. Against her better judgment, she headed towards the screaming. Because what if someone needed help. It was dark, she couldn't see what it was. She slowly crept forward towards the screaming until she made out the vague shape of Aamon. Oh for holden's sake. It had to be that kid. She froze, thoughts flashing through her head of her tumble. She still hadn't managed to close that doubt, that thought that someone couldn't have pushed her down, and yet she knew someone must have, having shoved those doubts into her toes. Now they came flying back up, and Avis bit her lip, shaking her head as if to clear the nonsense. She hated the fact she was thinking these things, she hated it.
He was on the ground, screaming, clawing at the dirt. There was no one else there. Avis didn't want to get involved, she really didn't. And yet she did.
She stopped a couple of feet away, hesitating. She wanted to help him, but she could not find a solution to a problem she didn't know. She didn't want something else to happen. But he was screaming as if it were the end of the world and she needed to do something, anything. So she forced herself to slowly creep up to him and knelt down, speaking softly. "Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay." She wanted to do something. Comfort him, pull him away, but she didn't know what to do. What if she made things worse? So she kelt there awkwardly.
@Aamon Athanatos
Then she heard the screaming. She bolted upwards, no longer tired, adrenaline rushing, hands shaking. She dashed across the grounds, her cloak forgotten, abandoned in the grass. Against her better judgment, she headed towards the screaming. Because what if someone needed help. It was dark, she couldn't see what it was. She slowly crept forward towards the screaming until she made out the vague shape of Aamon. Oh for holden's sake. It had to be that kid. She froze, thoughts flashing through her head of her tumble. She still hadn't managed to close that doubt, that thought that someone couldn't have pushed her down, and yet she knew someone must have, having shoved those doubts into her toes. Now they came flying back up, and Avis bit her lip, shaking her head as if to clear the nonsense. She hated the fact she was thinking these things, she hated it.
He was on the ground, screaming, clawing at the dirt. There was no one else there. Avis didn't want to get involved, she really didn't. And yet she did.
She stopped a couple of feet away, hesitating. She wanted to help him, but she could not find a solution to a problem she didn't know. She didn't want something else to happen. But he was screaming as if it were the end of the world and she needed to do something, anything. So she forced herself to slowly creep up to him and knelt down, speaking softly. "Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay." She wanted to do something. Comfort him, pull him away, but she didn't know what to do. What if she made things worse? So she kelt there awkwardly.
@Aamon Athanatos
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
29 Nov 2024, 02:16
Scream for Me
Aamon's hands were raw, his fingers caked with cold dirt as he dug desperately into the unyielding ground. The whispers coiled tighter around his thoughts, filling his ears with their sing-song taunts.
"Don’t fight, Aamon. You’re almost here."
His breath hitched as he thrashed, his muscles aching against the unseen pull dragging him toward the dark wall of trees. The forest loomed ahead, its shadows alive, shifting in the edges of his vision. He tried to scream again, but his throat burned, raw from the effort. Tears blurred his sight, turning the world into a smear of moonlight and shadow.
And then he heard it. A voice. Different. Softer.
"Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re okay."
Aamon froze, his breath ragged as he registered the words. For a moment, the whispers faltered, like wind losing its strength. His head jerked toward the voice, his wide, tear-streaked eyes finding Avis crouched beside him. He blinked, confused. Her face swam into focus—a face he knew from the halls, from classes. But why was she here?
"You don’t understand!" he rasped, his voice trembling. He tried to pull himself up, but his body wouldn’t obey. His limbs felt like lead, pinned down by something invisible. "They won’t let me go! They’re pulling me!"
From the looks of it, he was not being pulled at all. He clawed at the ground, an obvious trail dug by his fingers in the nearly frozen earth. His fingernails torn, bloodied and caked with cold dirt. Nobody was pulling him, he had to be doing this to himself.
The whispers hissed in his ears again, sharper now, angrier.
"She can’t help you, Aamon. She’s in the way. We don’t want her. Just you."
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head violently as if to dislodge the voices. "No, no, no, no!" he cried, clawing at the ground again, his panic redoubling. "You can’t hear them, can you? You don’t hear what they’re saying!" She couldn't, not that he knew that. She could not see them either, not that Aamon had caught sight of them either.
His eyes darted back to Avis, wild and pleading. "You have to run! Please! They’ll take you too! They’ll—"
His words cut off as his body jerked violently, dragged an inch closer to the edge of the trees. His scream tore through the night again, filled with terror and despair. "They’re coming!"
"Don’t fight, Aamon. You’re almost here."
His breath hitched as he thrashed, his muscles aching against the unseen pull dragging him toward the dark wall of trees. The forest loomed ahead, its shadows alive, shifting in the edges of his vision. He tried to scream again, but his throat burned, raw from the effort. Tears blurred his sight, turning the world into a smear of moonlight and shadow.
And then he heard it. A voice. Different. Softer.
"Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re okay."
Aamon froze, his breath ragged as he registered the words. For a moment, the whispers faltered, like wind losing its strength. His head jerked toward the voice, his wide, tear-streaked eyes finding Avis crouched beside him. He blinked, confused. Her face swam into focus—a face he knew from the halls, from classes. But why was she here?
"You don’t understand!" he rasped, his voice trembling. He tried to pull himself up, but his body wouldn’t obey. His limbs felt like lead, pinned down by something invisible. "They won’t let me go! They’re pulling me!"
From the looks of it, he was not being pulled at all. He clawed at the ground, an obvious trail dug by his fingers in the nearly frozen earth. His fingernails torn, bloodied and caked with cold dirt. Nobody was pulling him, he had to be doing this to himself.
The whispers hissed in his ears again, sharper now, angrier.
"She can’t help you, Aamon. She’s in the way. We don’t want her. Just you."
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head violently as if to dislodge the voices. "No, no, no, no!" he cried, clawing at the ground again, his panic redoubling. "You can’t hear them, can you? You don’t hear what they’re saying!" She couldn't, not that he knew that. She could not see them either, not that Aamon had caught sight of them either.
His eyes darted back to Avis, wild and pleading. "You have to run! Please! They’ll take you too! They’ll—"
His words cut off as his body jerked violently, dragged an inch closer to the edge of the trees. His scream tore through the night again, filled with terror and despair. "They’re coming!"
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos
29 Nov 2024, 02:26
Scream for Me
@Aamon Athanatos and @Avis Marlong
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
Emily was no Prefect but honestly, she was ready to class herself into her own little sub-division of night walkers in the school. Once again she was out taking in the evening air whilst itching to get back out into the forest. After that unicorn encounter, she felt capable of anything. She already had a list of creatures she wanted to observe and hopefully she could figure out her thesis behind the "Playground of Mess" theory.
It became apparent to Emily that night was a time where anything could happen; the unicorn she met was a prime example. The stranger from last year whom she knew wasn't from Hogwarts, that too. But she knew to tread cautiously. Though that didn't stop her from bouncing into the unsettling aura of unknowingness with an open mind and careful optimism.
Tonight would be one of those nights where sudden screams shocked her as she made her way through the castle. She was just about to step into the Courtyard until the strings of curiosity in her system steered her towards whatever was making those agonising shrieks.
Her footsteps picked up. Was someone in trouble? Hurt? Did they find a spider at their feet or did someone forget that their Transfiguration homework was due the next morning?
Emily turned the corner and saw two students - younger than herself, she reckoned - a Ravenclaw girl tending to the horrified state of a Slytherin boy. She swallowed as she approached them.
"What's wrong? Something happen? You two shouldn't be out here when it's late..."
Says the Second year Hufflepuff who's been to the forest of a forbidden variety.
"My word..." she honed in onto the boy's expression. "You look frightfully pale. Whatever's the matter?"
Word Count: 317
Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace
Trust Yourself - Love Yourself - Be Yourself
iNPC = Casey Stone
29 Nov 2024, 02:47
Scream for Me
He froze at the sound of her voice, and his ragged eyes vaguely met hers, filled with desperation. He was scared as if someone was trying to take him. He was fighting against some force, one that Avis was pretty sure didn't exist. Then again, she was pretty sure someone had pushed her down those stairs.
Still, she found her eyes flickering back and forth, searching, somehow hoping that whatever was scaring the kid was real for his sake, while hoping it wasn't for her own. You can’t hear them, can you? You don’t hear what they’re saying! Avis bit her lip. whatever "they" were, they seemed to be a common ailment for him, and she didn't want to deny his troubles. Nor did she want to pretend she could see them, pretend they existed. They couldn't exist. She shook her head in a soft no. "You have to run! Please! They’ll take you too! They’ll—" That was what he had said last time. He had told them they needed to leave, and she hadn't, and then she had fallen. Oh, this was bad. He was a seer, wasn't he? Was he having a vision or whatever it was that seers did? Was he afraid of something that would happen in the future? She didn't think anything was there. She thought it was all in his mind. She had to. But his terror crept under her skin and she tensed.
His body jerked towards the woods, and Avis had to scramble sideways a bit to stay next to him. There was a path of his fingernails in the dirt as if he were trying to crawl away. Avis tried to concentrate, her eyes narrowing, though they still flickered about, wary. She didn't understand how he had moved, it wasn't like he had pushed himself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by an inquiring addition to their group. Somehow, Avis didn't think the boy would be up to questioning. "He-he thinks something is attacking him. Well, it looks like something is attacking him." But nothing was.
He was screaming at nothing and Avis had no idea what to do and it was the middle of the night and she was not prepared for this and she didn't know what to do. Curse the stars, curse her insomnia. Light. Light ought to help, wouldn't it? Light always helped. Her hands shook harder as she pulled out her wand. "Lumos"
Still, she found her eyes flickering back and forth, searching, somehow hoping that whatever was scaring the kid was real for his sake, while hoping it wasn't for her own. You can’t hear them, can you? You don’t hear what they’re saying! Avis bit her lip. whatever "they" were, they seemed to be a common ailment for him, and she didn't want to deny his troubles. Nor did she want to pretend she could see them, pretend they existed. They couldn't exist. She shook her head in a soft no. "You have to run! Please! They’ll take you too! They’ll—" That was what he had said last time. He had told them they needed to leave, and she hadn't, and then she had fallen. Oh, this was bad. He was a seer, wasn't he? Was he having a vision or whatever it was that seers did? Was he afraid of something that would happen in the future? She didn't think anything was there. She thought it was all in his mind. She had to. But his terror crept under her skin and she tensed.
His body jerked towards the woods, and Avis had to scramble sideways a bit to stay next to him. There was a path of his fingernails in the dirt as if he were trying to crawl away. Avis tried to concentrate, her eyes narrowing, though they still flickered about, wary. She didn't understand how he had moved, it wasn't like he had pushed himself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by an inquiring addition to their group. Somehow, Avis didn't think the boy would be up to questioning. "He-he thinks something is attacking him. Well, it looks like something is attacking him." But nothing was.
He was screaming at nothing and Avis had no idea what to do and it was the middle of the night and she was not prepared for this and she didn't know what to do. Curse the stars, curse her insomnia. Light. Light ought to help, wouldn't it? Light always helped. Her hands shook harder as she pulled out her wand. "Lumos"
I do believe moderation means rolling, but despite Astra's wonderful explanation I still don't trust myself to roll anything yet. I would appreciate if someone else could:)
@Emily Shephard@Aamon Athanatos
Last edited by Avis Marlong on 3 Dec 2024, 13:18, edited 2 times in total.
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
29 Nov 2024, 03:30
Scream for Me
Phantom Fears with @Aamon Athanatos and @Avis Marlong
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
This was peculiar to say the least. Between the petrified stupor the Slytherin lad was in and the worried mutters of the Ravenclaw girl with him, Emily was trying to make sense of it all. Being so used to dealing with problems that affected only herself and dealing with them herself, she would be lying if she said she knew what to do in this situation.
She listened as the Ravenclaw gave a brief rundown on what the heck was happening. Nodding, Emily focused attention to the boy.
"Buddy..." Soft hands went to the boy's shoulders as Emily tried to still him and his twitchy movements. It didn't seem so farfetched that neither the girl or the boy were playing about, but again, Emily had no clue what she was dealing with. All she wanted was a nightly walk and now all of a sudden she was greeted with this. Whatever this was.
"Try and focus..."
She tried to get a good look at his face. "Auntie" always said that the eyes were the best tools for communication in the world. If that was true, then surely there was more to learn than a simple haunted expression. It was quite clear something was going on. It was just a matter of what.
"What do you see...? Who's coming...?? Tell me... Maybe we can help...!" As Emily continuously tried to get through to him, she noticed a flicker of light come from off to the side of her. Had the young Ravenclaw cast something? There wasn't much opportunity to look now that Emily was occupied with trying to settle down the wanderings and fearful look of the boy underneath her gentle and reassuring touch.
Emily pressed her lips together. She remained mindful of her wand up her sleeve. She didn't want to admit it but she could sense something was among them. The fact that she didn't know what it was stirred a molotov cocktail of anxiety and curiosity. She then spoke up, both addressing the kids but not at the same time.
If something was truly there, it was only fair that they would come out and show themselves, no?
Her tone remained friendly but didn't misplace the seriousness in it either. "If there's someone there... Let me see you. Come out and show yourself... Please."
Word Count: 417
Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace
Trust Yourself - Love Yourself - Be Yourself
iNPC = Casey Stone
29 Nov 2024, 23:17
Scream for Me
Avis was correct, Aamon was in no state for this line of questioning. He clawed and thrashed against an unseen force, looking more spastic and mad than in true peril but this was a world where magic was very real. Where the monsters in your head and under your bed were sometimes actually there.
He was going to die.
He was really going to die.
His mind raced. There was so much he still wanted to do. So much he wanted to see, things he wanted to say but lacked the courage or the words. His life did not take long to flash before his eyes as he struggled futilly against a force it would seem only he could see.
Then the light from Avis's wand flared to life, cutting through the darkness with a sharp, silvery glow. For a moment, everything froze—the cold, damp air seemed to tighten around them, holding its breath. Aamon’s screams faltered into gasping sobs, his body trembling as the light spilled over the forest edge and illuminated the scene around them.
And then, the girls that is, could see them.
Light, the enemy's weakness washed over them. The creatures clinging to Aamon’s limbs recoiled, hissing audibly. They were not a visual hallucination, they could be heard. Avis was right, she was pushed down those stairs those days before. She was not mad either, nor was she crediting the terrified, crazed youth that tried to scurry away from the trio of doll-like creatures. These dolls were small but horribly lifelike, they were twisted imitations of humanity. Their faces were grotesque caricatures of Aamon’s own, their features pinched and exaggerated into cruel, mocking grins with similarly mismatched eyes. Their glassy eyes shimmered in the light, unblinking, their tiny fingers—gnarled and impossibly strong—digging into his clothes and skin.
They were dolls. Living, breathing things of porcelain and cloth, animated by some dark and unnatural force.
Aamon stared at them in abject horror, his breath hitching as the sight confirmed the nightmare he hadn’t dared to name. “They’re real,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the sound of their sharp, angry breaths. They looked different in the light. “You see them too?”
The light burned them. One of the dolls let out an inhuman shriek, its mouth stretching far too wide for its small face, and released its grip on Aamon’s ankle. Another clawed at the dirt, scrambling backward as its skin cracked under the brightness of the wand’s glow.
Still terrified, knowing that the forest meant death he cried out. “Don’t let them—don’t let them take me!”
The dolls hissed again, their faces contorting with rage, before one by one, they began to retreat. They skittered away on their too-small hands and feet, vanishing into the shadows at the edge of the forest. The forest seemed to groan, trunks swaying unnaturally as if making a clear path away. The darkness swallowed them whole, leaving only the faint echo of their chittering laughter behind.
Aamon lay trembling in the dirt, his breath ragged as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from his chest. His eyes darted to Avis, wild and full of disbelief. “You saw them,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “You saw them that time. I’m not—I’m not mad.”
But even as the dolls disappeared, the air around them felt heavy, as though the forest itself was watching, waiting. Aamon’s voice dropped to a fearful whisper. “They’ll come back,” he said he muttered as he stared into the darkness of the forest as if he was sharing a warning. “They always come back.”
Lumos Roll: 19 Success
@Emily Shephard | @Avis Marlong
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos
29 Nov 2024, 23:45
Scream for Me
Phantom Fears with @Aamon Athanatos and @Avis Marlong
Mentioning: @Colin McCoire - @AngelFyre McCubbin - @Evelynn Decipio
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
If there was ever a physical definition of night tremors, this boy definitely would've won an award for it. His spastic movements made it near impossible for Emily to settle him, not that she felt she would've succeeded given the absolute state he was in.
As it turned out, the Ravenclaw girl did cast light from her wand and that was when everything suddenly got dialled up to one hundred. No more did Emily try to calm the boy down but instead leapt backwards at whatever the hell had just come off him. Inhuman creatures that were far more grotesque and gnarly than anything Emily's blossoming imagination could've conjured up. These were worse than every little rumour and story she had dug up the last few months over the horrors that seemed to plague Hogwarts when someone's back was turned.
Emily was stunned as the light from her younger peer chased them away. Those faces burned into her memory. They were the kind of faces she would expect to find in haunted video tapes... And that was her number one fear on the planet. She covered an ear when one of them let out the most unholy shriek that ran through the Grounds. She felt useless when they kept clawing and grabbing at the boy that was desperate for help. All Emily could really do was cling onto him at the arms, to show those things that he didn't belong to them.
The light penetrated their advances and they soon slunk back into the shadows from where they undoubtedly came from. Emily loosened her grip but her eyes remained clouded over in shock. She had read the descriptions of them before. Evelynn and AngelFyre even warned her of those things before. Poor Colin had to fight one at one point to save his family, if memory served well. But she couldn't bring herself to fully believe that she had come across them just now.
The boy's petrified tone was all to real to deny, even if she wished she could be ignorant to what she had seen. Emily stiffly retrieved him and helped him up, a shaky but reassuring hand glued to his forearm as she tried to process everything.
"How...? When...?"
How does one even begin to question any of this? Emily, the curious thinker, didn't know.
"Tell me what they are... Because if they're what I think they are..."
Then this is worse than I could've anticipated...
Word Count: 450
Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace
Trust Yourself - Love Yourself - Be Yourself
iNPC = Casey Stone
30 Nov 2024, 00:14
Scream for Me
Avis breathed a sigh of relief as the light flared from her wand, her heart slowing a bit when she could see nothing was there. Until something was. For the first time in her life, Avis swore. Her mother had strictly taught Avis to never swear, but Avis wasn't quite thinking about what her mother might want at the moment. This wasn't meant to be a part of her life. So Avis did what she did when anything was scary in life: stop thinking. She froze, trying to pry her gaze from the grotesque beings in front of them, only managing to flick her eyes away for a moment to look at Aamon, who had a similar expression of terror, before flying back to the things. They were like him. They were mangled, destroyed replicas of him.
He was being destroyed by himself.
They were trying to destroy him. She wanted to jump in front of him, get between him and his replicas, but her legs wouldn't allow her to move. Avis knew, she just knew that whatever the things were, they had pushed her down the stairs. They had tried to get her away from him. And she was terrified.
But a small piece of her was relieved. That he wasn't mad. That she wasn't mad. That whatever was haunting him was real, physical. Physical problems had solutions. They needed to have solutions.
“They’re real,” Aamon, apparently, had been unsure until now. But now he finally had the proof that he wasn't mad. "They are." Avis whispered quietly. She wouldn't ever remember having said it, her brain had gone into fight or flight and her logic decided to fly. But her brain had decided that he needed a confirmation.
The things let go of him and retreated into the woods. The light. They were running from the light. Avis focused on keeping the light. Keep the light. The light was everything. In the back of her mind, Avis registered the fact that they were scared of light and he decided to go near the forbidden forest in the dark, but she didn't have the ability to dwell on it now. As the final thing retreated, the last of Avis' energy failed. The adrenaline mixed with fear when she should have been sleeping had drained her. Her light went out, and she grabbed Aamon's arm firmly as he trembled, a belated attempt to pull him away from his monsters, and an attempt to keep him grounded. The other girl had a similar idea, though Avis could barely register Aamon, much less think about Emily as well.
They would be back. She looked at him, terror in her eyes. She hadn't seen them before. Nor had Astra, or Meiyu, and there had been plenty of light then. They had let her see them tonight. They must have. Unless he had let her see them, but he seemed much too shocked for that.
@Aamon Athanatos, @Emily Shephard
He was being destroyed by himself.
They were trying to destroy him. She wanted to jump in front of him, get between him and his replicas, but her legs wouldn't allow her to move. Avis knew, she just knew that whatever the things were, they had pushed her down the stairs. They had tried to get her away from him. And she was terrified.
But a small piece of her was relieved. That he wasn't mad. That she wasn't mad. That whatever was haunting him was real, physical. Physical problems had solutions. They needed to have solutions.
“They’re real,” Aamon, apparently, had been unsure until now. But now he finally had the proof that he wasn't mad. "They are." Avis whispered quietly. She wouldn't ever remember having said it, her brain had gone into fight or flight and her logic decided to fly. But her brain had decided that he needed a confirmation.
The things let go of him and retreated into the woods. The light. They were running from the light. Avis focused on keeping the light. Keep the light. The light was everything. In the back of her mind, Avis registered the fact that they were scared of light and he decided to go near the forbidden forest in the dark, but she didn't have the ability to dwell on it now. As the final thing retreated, the last of Avis' energy failed. The adrenaline mixed with fear when she should have been sleeping had drained her. Her light went out, and she grabbed Aamon's arm firmly as he trembled, a belated attempt to pull him away from his monsters, and an attempt to keep him grounded. The other girl had a similar idea, though Avis could barely register Aamon, much less think about Emily as well.
They would be back. She looked at him, terror in her eyes. She hadn't seen them before. Nor had Astra, or Meiyu, and there had been plenty of light then. They had let her see them tonight. They must have. Unless he had let her see them, but he seemed much too shocked for that.
@Aamon Athanatos, @Emily Shephard
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
30 Nov 2024, 00:55
Scream for Me
Aamon clutched Avis's arm like it was the only thing tethering him to reality, his breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps as he stared into the darkness where the dolls had disappeared. He could see the forest move, the vines twitch. He knew what waited for him just feet from where he laid. His entire body trembled, every muscle taut as if expecting them to return at any moment. Expecting the branches of the forest to bow outward towards him in the dead of this, the darkest night and snatch him where he laid. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and cracked, heavy with exhaustion and fear.
"They…" his voice trailed off. he did not know how to explain them because he did not fully understand what they were. "They’re supposed to be my--" he cut himself off, shaking his head as his face scrunched up. It was stupid. He was stupid. His words trembled, hollow, like he didn’t quite believe it himself. "It was not supposed to be like this," he asserted and swallowed hard, his throat dry and aching. "But they lied," he concluded grimly. They’re not his friends. They’ve never been his friends.
Avis wondered what was different about this evening. About the light cast from the tip of her wand that had sent those monsters fleeing. Why had it not been the case in the halls. Aamon was terrified of these things, but he never remarked on their appearance. He had to see it. How similar that looked to him. But he never mentioned a word of that. Never mentioned his shock in what they were, just the assertion that they saw them too. That he was not mad
Aamon shivered, his mind racing back to every sleepless night, every moment he’d felt those cold, unblinking eyes on him. "They were with me always… usually just when I was alone. But as of late, they have gotten..." he seemed to search for the word, his eyes never straying from the wood even as he was pulled away from the forest edge. "Jealous," while that applied that did not seem to fit. "Dangerous," better but did not seem to grasp the strange intimacy between them. "They told me they were here to keep me safe. To keep me company," in truth the boy was painfully lonesome. "But they got strange, possessive." yes, that was the word he was looking for. "That I didn’t need anyone else because I had them." He paused, his grip tightening on Avis’s arm. "But it wasn’t true. They don’t want me safe—they want me." That sounded like the end of the statement but it was not the end of his thought, he added to be in the back of his mind.
Aamon’s voice dropped further, becoming barely audible over the distant rustle of the trees. "I can't always see them, but I used to before they started to change." There was a time they looked like plain, simple dolls. Something he was far too old to play with but forever reason when he was gifted the three he was somehow charmed by their simplistic appearance and the notion of them being whoever or whatever he wanted them to be. He thought that they could be heroes. He was an idiot. "I could hear them in the shadows, in the quiet corners. And now, you’ve seen them too." He glanced up at Avis and over at Emily, his eyes wide and glistening with tears. "You saw them, didn’t you? You saw what they were."
He shuddered violently as he glanced back toward the forest. "They let you see them tonight. They wanted you to see. Maybe they think it’ll scare you away. Or maybe…" His voice cracked as a fresh wave of terror washed over him. "Maybe they want you too now."
The words hung in the air like frost, chilling and oppressive. His free hand twitched toward his wand, but he didn’t raise it, as though afraid the light would only bring them back. He whispered, barely above a breath, "They’re not gone. The light makes them hide, it might hurt them a little, but not enough. They’ll come back. They always do."
He turned his gaze toward Avis and Emily, pleading, his voice filled with desperation. "They won’t stop. Not until…" He couldn’t finish. Instead, his voice broke into a quiet sob. "I don’t know how to make them stop."
@Emily Shephard | @Avis Marlong
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos