Post by Claire Hawkins on Dec 27, 2023 8:01:13 GMT
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
Heavy footfalls echo thundered loudly as he frantically rushed down the stairwell as quickly as one could without outright jumping to their death. What the fuck had just happened? Who the fuck had just happened? Like a blender, thought feverishly melded together before being torn asunder to be forced together again. Oblivious to the dull grey of the walls surrounding his spiral descent, grease laden sweat oozed from every pore.
BANG!
Bursting through the emergency exit as if he had been fired out of a cannon, the greasy man turned a sharp left and ran towards his means of escape that he and his buddies had left their old beater of a car. With the raucous sound of his shoes slapping upon the pavement drowned out by the blood thundering in his ears, he ran with reckless abandon. After and eternity of thirty seconds he reached his destination, fumbled the keys out of his pocket, and dove into the drives seat once the door had opened. Slamming the door shut absently, he shoved the key into the ignition and slammed his foot upon the gas pedal; tires squealing in the night.
He needed to get gone; NEEDED to let them know what happened to his crew. What DID happen to his boys? He wasn't sure-COULDN'T be sure- but then he couldn't understand what had happened. One moment they had all been shooting the shit and the next it was as if the door itself had suddenly opened in their little shared hideaway. A soul shattering screech had torn through the room and things turned to shit. Bodies were impaled by an invisible force and bodies and blood were thrown everywhere in a gloriously gory masterpiece of a mess. He ran, oh gods how he ran! He hadn't meant to leave them there, but what could he have done? What could've he done?
Exchanging the adrenaline for molten tears that began to run down his greasy face, he absently steered the car into an empty lot and slammed it into park; pressing his forehead into the steering wheel as emotion fully overtook him.
"Queston for you, if you wouldn't mind." an eerily calm feminine voice called from the back seat, causing bolt upright in the driver's seat. With dread in his heart and his body shaking, the man stole a glance into the rearview mirror only to find the demon in human skin reflecting back; eyes glowing red as her pale skin seemed to shine with an ethereal light.
"Why do you people ALWAYS insist on running?"
Before he could either scream or bolt through the door, an invisible force surrounded him and smothered him with a pressure so intense he thought that he'd be turned to paste hurtled him headlong into unconsciousness. A silent scream his final thought before darkness overtook him.
ONE WEEK EARLIER
With a serene silence having long since settled into the atmosphere of the study, the raven-haired Guardian of the estates young Mistress sat behind the large oak desk with various papers stacked in several messy piles. Smiling softly to herself, she leaned back into the comfortably padded chair as she took a long-prolonged sip of the tea that had been brough in moments earlier. The calm before the inevitable storm that was her little one.
A far cry from the emotions she had felt over a year ago.
Then, when she had first gotten injured, she had carried on with the obsessive behavior that had led to her injury. Focusing on running the estate and recovering, things simply hadn't been what one considered healthy. Thankfully, a young child's optimistic naivete could invoke a spell of its own and she had eventually settled into the routine of acting like a proper guardian to the child she had avoided for so very long; much to the chagrin of the elderly maid that she was often at odds with.
With a contented sigh escaping from black-painted lips, she lowered her cup of tea. A moment later a gust of frigid Irish air burst through the large window behind her; tea spilling as paper flew everywhere. Like a tornado, a whirlwind of glass and paper sheets swirled around violently.
"What the literal FUCK?" she snarled viscously as things finally settled; papers gently floating to the floor.
'Seems like you haven't removed yourself from this plane of existence yet.' a cruel voice rang loudly in her head.
"Well," she began as she opened her eyes "It helps when one doesn't have an eternally vengeful rage spirit of yourself perpetually hounding you."
'Hardy-har-har! It seems that you didn't only absorb that airheaded cow's body, but you also absorbed that stupid sense of humor as well. It's honestly sickening!' the voice in her head hissed in annoyance as the gentle sound of glass shards hitting the carpet softly echoed throughout the room. Standing on behind the desk before was an intensely thin and emaciated version of herself. However, unlike her physical self this being had the telltale sign of having suffered barbaric torture before her death; a dirty cloth wound around empty eye sockets with a tongueless mouth sewn shut.
"Well," she said looking down at her more voluptuous shape for a moment "that would certainly explain a few things."
'I BET it does.'
"Alright, alright. What reason do you have for suddenly shattering the window of my study? That will not be cheap to replace, you know." she chided the entity with a very blunt matter-of-factness.coloring her tone.
'Ain't MY problem.' it responded defiantly as it crossed its arms.
"Fine," she replied with an exasperated sigh "Just tell me why you've returned to darken my mindscape once again."
'Finally!' it exclaimed in annoyance as it leaned over the desk. Not sure why though, it could just pass though it but whatever. It must have been for dramatic effect.
'There may be a problem.'
PRESENT DAY
Slowly, so very painfully slow, his conciseness began to return to the land of the living and in doing so three very distinct things came to mind. First, he wagered that he was upside down as it felt like all the blood was rushing to his head. How or why he was that way wasn't something he was privy to. Second, he could tell that he was no longer sitting in the driver's seat of his car; something that reinforced once he had opened his eyes. Finally, the simple fact that he wasn't alone as that same eerie woman's voice from before rang loudly in his ears.
"Why on earth did I decide to wear this? I look like a gothic whore......though that phrasing might best suited for the others....."
The hell was she talking about? He wouldn't know until he slowly spun to face the source of the complaining; the metallic sound of chains creaking in the process. From his inverted view of the world, he watched as the pale woman turned towards him from where she stood next to the car. Had she been inspecting her reflection in the side mirror? Better question, where the fuck was he that allowed him to be strung upside-down the way he was? The fuck?!
"Well," the raven-haired woman began as she closed the distance between them. "It seems that luck is on both our sides tonight. You did not perish and I now have someone to question. Quite a satisfactory outcome, wouldn't you agree?" Hunching over so that they were face to face, the woman smiled venomously as she gently pushed on his torso; causing him to swing back and forth a bit.
"W-Who the fuck are you?" he demanded; his stammer betraying the brave mask he wore.
Without missing a beat, her reply was as honest as it was unnerving.
"Me?"
"I'm your link between THIS life and the NEXT."
Heavy footfalls echo thundered loudly as he frantically rushed down the stairwell as quickly as one could without outright jumping to their death. What the fuck had just happened? Who the fuck had just happened? Like a blender, thought feverishly melded together before being torn asunder to be forced together again. Oblivious to the dull grey of the walls surrounding his spiral descent, grease laden sweat oozed from every pore.
BANG!
Bursting through the emergency exit as if he had been fired out of a cannon, the greasy man turned a sharp left and ran towards his means of escape that he and his buddies had left their old beater of a car. With the raucous sound of his shoes slapping upon the pavement drowned out by the blood thundering in his ears, he ran with reckless abandon. After and eternity of thirty seconds he reached his destination, fumbled the keys out of his pocket, and dove into the drives seat once the door had opened. Slamming the door shut absently, he shoved the key into the ignition and slammed his foot upon the gas pedal; tires squealing in the night.
He needed to get gone; NEEDED to let them know what happened to his crew. What DID happen to his boys? He wasn't sure-COULDN'T be sure- but then he couldn't understand what had happened. One moment they had all been shooting the shit and the next it was as if the door itself had suddenly opened in their little shared hideaway. A soul shattering screech had torn through the room and things turned to shit. Bodies were impaled by an invisible force and bodies and blood were thrown everywhere in a gloriously gory masterpiece of a mess. He ran, oh gods how he ran! He hadn't meant to leave them there, but what could he have done? What could've he done?
Exchanging the adrenaline for molten tears that began to run down his greasy face, he absently steered the car into an empty lot and slammed it into park; pressing his forehead into the steering wheel as emotion fully overtook him.
"Queston for you, if you wouldn't mind." an eerily calm feminine voice called from the back seat, causing bolt upright in the driver's seat. With dread in his heart and his body shaking, the man stole a glance into the rearview mirror only to find the demon in human skin reflecting back; eyes glowing red as her pale skin seemed to shine with an ethereal light.
"Why do you people ALWAYS insist on running?"
Before he could either scream or bolt through the door, an invisible force surrounded him and smothered him with a pressure so intense he thought that he'd be turned to paste hurtled him headlong into unconsciousness. A silent scream his final thought before darkness overtook him.
ONE WEEK EARLIER
With a serene silence having long since settled into the atmosphere of the study, the raven-haired Guardian of the estates young Mistress sat behind the large oak desk with various papers stacked in several messy piles. Smiling softly to herself, she leaned back into the comfortably padded chair as she took a long-prolonged sip of the tea that had been brough in moments earlier. The calm before the inevitable storm that was her little one.
A far cry from the emotions she had felt over a year ago.
Then, when she had first gotten injured, she had carried on with the obsessive behavior that had led to her injury. Focusing on running the estate and recovering, things simply hadn't been what one considered healthy. Thankfully, a young child's optimistic naivete could invoke a spell of its own and she had eventually settled into the routine of acting like a proper guardian to the child she had avoided for so very long; much to the chagrin of the elderly maid that she was often at odds with.
With a contented sigh escaping from black-painted lips, she lowered her cup of tea. A moment later a gust of frigid Irish air burst through the large window behind her; tea spilling as paper flew everywhere. Like a tornado, a whirlwind of glass and paper sheets swirled around violently.
"What the literal FUCK?" she snarled viscously as things finally settled; papers gently floating to the floor.
'Seems like you haven't removed yourself from this plane of existence yet.' a cruel voice rang loudly in her head.
"Well," she began as she opened her eyes "It helps when one doesn't have an eternally vengeful rage spirit of yourself perpetually hounding you."
'Hardy-har-har! It seems that you didn't only absorb that airheaded cow's body, but you also absorbed that stupid sense of humor as well. It's honestly sickening!' the voice in her head hissed in annoyance as the gentle sound of glass shards hitting the carpet softly echoed throughout the room. Standing on behind the desk before was an intensely thin and emaciated version of herself. However, unlike her physical self this being had the telltale sign of having suffered barbaric torture before her death; a dirty cloth wound around empty eye sockets with a tongueless mouth sewn shut.
"Well," she said looking down at her more voluptuous shape for a moment "that would certainly explain a few things."
'I BET it does.'
"Alright, alright. What reason do you have for suddenly shattering the window of my study? That will not be cheap to replace, you know." she chided the entity with a very blunt matter-of-factness.coloring her tone.
'Ain't MY problem.' it responded defiantly as it crossed its arms.
"Fine," she replied with an exasperated sigh "Just tell me why you've returned to darken my mindscape once again."
'Finally!' it exclaimed in annoyance as it leaned over the desk. Not sure why though, it could just pass though it but whatever. It must have been for dramatic effect.
'There may be a problem.'
PRESENT DAY
Slowly, so very painfully slow, his conciseness began to return to the land of the living and in doing so three very distinct things came to mind. First, he wagered that he was upside down as it felt like all the blood was rushing to his head. How or why he was that way wasn't something he was privy to. Second, he could tell that he was no longer sitting in the driver's seat of his car; something that reinforced once he had opened his eyes. Finally, the simple fact that he wasn't alone as that same eerie woman's voice from before rang loudly in his ears.
"Why on earth did I decide to wear this? I look like a gothic whore......though that phrasing might best suited for the others....."
The hell was she talking about? He wouldn't know until he slowly spun to face the source of the complaining; the metallic sound of chains creaking in the process. From his inverted view of the world, he watched as the pale woman turned towards him from where she stood next to the car. Had she been inspecting her reflection in the side mirror? Better question, where the fuck was he that allowed him to be strung upside-down the way he was? The fuck?!
"Well," the raven-haired woman began as she closed the distance between them. "It seems that luck is on both our sides tonight. You did not perish and I now have someone to question. Quite a satisfactory outcome, wouldn't you agree?" Hunching over so that they were face to face, the woman smiled venomously as she gently pushed on his torso; causing him to swing back and forth a bit.
"W-Who the fuck are you?" he demanded; his stammer betraying the brave mask he wore.
Without missing a beat, her reply was as honest as it was unnerving.
"Me?"
"I'm your link between THIS life and the NEXT."
