Aensa: Dream

Into the darkness her feet slowly brought her, carefully placing each foot fall as she made her way further into the darkened room. So alone. She felt so alone as she came to a halt and stood there, arms wrapped about herself trying to shrug off the enveloping dark coldness with an embrace of her own. And yet he was there. She felt his eyes, always felt his eyes. It caused the fine hairs at the back of her neck to stand up on end.

All she could hear was her breath, her heart beat. It was so silent that she listened to it pitter and patter, jump, skip a beat and finally fall back into rhythm with her soft breathing before she tried to swallow past the hard lump in her throat.

"Hello?"

It echoed, pierced her ears like the most foul of sounds ever to come into existence, and what was worse, it was from her own lips, came back to her mocking her own voice, everything in fine print across it. The terror, the loneliness, the absolute fear rang through the echoed wavering voice as it caused her to flutter a step back, retreating. A shiver ran up her spin and back down, causing her entire body to fall into the tremor it caused, lips pressing tightly together in the fear that perused that delicate voice. She tried again.

"Hello?"

And once again, she received nothing. Not a sign, not a trace of living or word spoken back to her. But she received the notice. She was told to meet someone here, someone. Even she wasn't sure what she was getting herself into as the cold of winter once more rushed over her bones, caused her skin to prickle. If a window was open, she hadn't yet taken notice or seen it. It was so dark within the room of unknown size that it caused her to lose herself, her thoughts, and soon enough, her sanity. The embrace fell from her arms as she reached her hands out. She could touch the wall; in her mind, she could feel the wall with her fingertips.

She stepped forward, regaining her ground in the room and tried to find the tangibility that her mind so blatantly laid out before her. Terror already took its reign over her body since she received the notice, but now how could further fear be sweeping into her body? How? That's when she heard the door close behind her. Of course her mind told her it was only her imagination or possibly the wind, but whatever light was strewn and tried to battle the shadows that crept with such prestige about the room now flickered and failed, defeated in its task to try and light the way.

Her hopes failed, her body slumped, and soon her mind wavered to thoughts she never did think of before. Where was her star to wish on? Where was her angel to guide her back to the light?

In just a rushing wave of emotion, she gave up, not even knowing what she was giving up on, not even sure what she had hope for. The darkness was like a pit of despair that she was pushed head long into and now there was nothing she could do. Not a dream or a moment of shinning glory shimmered to mind. She was lost now, forgotten to herself. Perhaps, out there, somewhere, they too forgot of her and her stories.

Aensa Xenthrope: Memories

Aensa bolted upright, her breath catching in the back of her throat and her hair matted to the back of her neck in sweat. A soft crackling fire sat in the hearth, having barely burned down from where last she saw it. The glass of rum that she had steadily been draining had somehow been knocked to the floor where it sat, on its side, contents spilled and seeping into the floor boards.

She deflated back into the posh seat in front of the fire, brow furrowing. The black outs seemed to be coming at a more steady pace recently, and the dreams that came with them were becoming more and more illustrated and memorable. This greatly concerned her. She left her caravan not so long ago due to these horrid dreams. There was something she needed to find, something that drew her here. Now suddenly the blackouts were coming in greater numbers and stronger and calling her back home once again. She couldn't leave yet, though. She was close. Or at least she thought she was close.

Reaching down, Aensa picked up the glass and ringed her finger around the inside, licking the droplets of alcohol off as she tried to understand this latest dream. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Puppets, strange men, golden cubes, churches, even her own family.

Leaning back, lightly twirling the glass in her fingertips, she thought back to her family. Her mother and father were always of the mind to teach her how to be a proper lady. They taught her the proper way to sit, to eat, to speak, to interact with others, to dance, to dress. They even taught her the proper way to do nothing at all. It had nothing to do with being a princess, for she heard in many stories that this was just the proper way for princesses to be raised. It had nothing to do with wanting their daughter to marry a young prince and become a princess herself. They merely couldn't stand that she was born with the heart of a tomboy.

The look of shock and disgust on their faces when she told them she was going to run off with the gypsy caravan to dance for coin was enough for them to declare she was never allowed to return to their home. Of course, Aensa liked this just fine as she was happier with the free-willed new family that took her in. She finally felt like she could be herself.

Rolling her head along her right shoulder only to prop it up to view the ceiling and count cobwebs in the rafters, a frown sat on her lips. She missed that chosen family. Why was she here? Why didn't she just leave and return back to her old home? If only she could remember what it is that brought her here.

Aensa Xenthrope

The fire is crackling happily, warm and safe and there I sit, sitting around the fire with my friends, dear friend, many lovely friends. We talk, we tell stories. But far off, deep into the woods where our fire is set, a noise comes about, traveling in the air, higher, louder than the fire, louder than our nostalgic stories and memories.

We pull straws. The long one is mine. Up out of the comfort I stand, up and away from the blanket of warmth and protection friends give you. Up away from the stories I stand and move off away from the light, into the darkness. Deep, deep darkness. Unknown darkness.

Death. Decay. Stench. My nostrils flare as I walk deeper, towards the noise, towards that unheard of violation to the woods. Things crackle, crunch under my feet. My slow, slowly walking feet. I look up; look up to see the blanket of the night, to see the mesh of stars, the canopy of green overhead. Nothing. Just darkness and dead trees.

Dead
Dead
D
e
a
d
trees.

A hit. A blow to the head and I am down. A foot connects with my stomach and my eyes close. Close as I become enveloped in the overwhelming darkness. The darkness, cool, soothing darkness. I can not breathe. Can not. Too dark. Too thickly dark to breathe.

Finally, my eyes open. I see before me stone. Cold stone. Little light. I can not move. I am bound to a table-no. Not a table. An altar. An altar surrounded with candles. Candles surrounded in a pool of their own bloody wax. Beside me another altar sits. Hand bound behind me, I turn my head to see.

A man.

A man lies upon the altar next to me and a tube, a simple tube is what connects us. Connects us through our stomachs. That stench. That stench of death and decay makes my nose flare and bile rise in my throat. Then a shadow moves. Too little light, I can't see. There, there in the darkness a blade is retracted. The shrieking silver comes down upon the other altar, upon the bare naked man, slitting open his tube, pulling it out of the way. His insides slip out, tumble from atop him down the altar. Deathly still, slow motion. The smell, the horrid odor.

I vomit. It is so quiet, so horribly quiet, and I vomit. I turn my head, close my eyes and am embraced once more by the calm, cool darkness.

I awake. Awake again, the smell of the sickness upon my breath, the shadow moving in the back ground, the man now lacking his innards lying upon the floor beside me. I stand and find myself lacking in clothes. Lacking in other things as well. The innards surround me. They are everywhere.

A circle. Perfect, happy circle. Never ending, perfect, happy circle.

My arms are bound, I can barely move, but I dance. Dance in the candle light, dance for the shadow, dance for the smells, the silence, the darkness, the man, the death, the circle. I dance. I am forever a puppet still dancing after the puppet master's death.

Terrians: Attack

There was only a sliver of a moon outside as she gazed upwards and the clouds managed to part just enough to ease her fears of the dark. The slim light that seemed to snuff out by a simple wisp of a cloud surfacing did little to put her fears at ease, though. Instead, it caused her only to strain more in the dark, eyes squinting in hoping to see better, hands and arms groping out in front of her, and many more looks upwards to check the sky above. Something was following her, and whatever it was she really didn't like it. Not only was it following her, but it seemed to be gaining on her while still keeping its distance, a distance just great enough that she couldn't truly tell if anything was there or not. But she wasn't lying to herself, she just couldn't be. There truly was something behind her, stalking her, and she just needed to make her way into town so that it wasn't able to find her alone here in the dark woods.

At first it was just a feeling, but then she started hearing things she wasn't certain she heard. It started with a soft sound deep and far away like thousands of busy little bees, but it became stronger as she continued walking. Stronger and more frightening as the humming because this mind shattering noise that just couldn't stop, burrowing into her head and not getting out no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't think any longer, couldn't do anything but continue walking and although she knew she needed to get out of the woods, she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out how to get out. That noise. All she could hear was that mind numbing noise that was turning her thoughts into goo to leak out of her ears and dribble down her jaw.

The noise grew steadily, not in pitch or volume but in mass. It caused the woman to stumble, fall, collapse onto the forest floor where she clutched at her ears, tears streaming down her cheeks, just wishing the noise would go away. Or, at least, she would wish it to go away if she were able to collect a single thought instead of shreds seeming to drift in the flow in her mind right now, no two fragments seeming to fit together in any form of intelligible thought. Her lips parted and a scream formed in the back of her throat as she continued to roll on the ground, clutching her ears, seeming unable to do anything else but grasp and gasp and cry.

Suddenly the noise stopped altogether, as if whatever it was that the noise was coming from suddenly darted in the other direction, fleeing for its life. Hands slowly pulled away from ears hearing the buzzing disappear as wide eyes opened onto the forest, staring upwards into the canopy above. But the thoughts didn't seem to congeal in her mind and the puzzle pieces of sanity had been fragmented to small and shaken so extreme that she couldn't even begin to place them back together again. Grabbing knees in her arms, she hugged them to her breasts and began to rock.

“The song was doo doo. Find a time for the woman. Find a song for the word. Run away and sleep another day.” Burying her face within her knees she began to cry. She knew something was missing. She knew she would never be the same woman again. And that knowledge would only last her another few minutes before that fell apart as well and left her to drift into a mindless lack of sanity.

Terrians: Hunger

The wood cracked and fell away in chips, falling in a pattern to the forest floor below before the next handful fell away a few inches before the first. The falling chips were accompanied by a maniac giggling chitter that could barely be discerned as to the direction it was coming from. The noise seemed to buzz and hum and come in from each direction as it echoed throughout the woods in a terrifying and never ending loop. Another glittering of bark and leaves floated towards the ground before a cracking was heard overhead in the trees. The source of the chattering was soon seen: a large charred creature with a tail so long that it could hug the entire tree and nails so sharp that they tore deep into the very heart of the oak. The tree seemed to groan in protest to the claws that dug into its flesh and the tail that strangled its arms, crying out in the only way it knew how.

The odd creature feel to the forest floor with a soft whump of a sound, mulch of the floor crunching between fingers and toes, if fingers and toes was something it even had. The tail lashed back and for the as bone white teeth gleamed in a terrifyingly painful grin against the pitch black of the dead flesh the reeked and flaked with each movement. The chittering sound seemed to come from deep in the creatures gullet, resonating through the bones and muscles of the animal as it stood in place with hungry eyes searching one way and then the other. It didn't seem as if it were scanning the forest so much as passing its penetrating gaze deep into the shadows, watching the very movements of what it sensed with flaring nostrils. It stared long and hard, laughing away like some lunatic who had lost all sense of sanity, watching as whatever it saw seemed to continue to move further, continuing in a line until eventually it hit and surpassed the horizon of what the animal could view. The grin only grew as a massively muscular tongue managed to swish behind the teeth, as if desperately wanting to lick its lips if only it could figure out where its lips were.

There was only one thing, if anything, on the creatures mind. It had instructions and a one track mind to finish the task on hand before returning, but there was only one simple problem with that. It was hungry. Very hungry. The creature's head flashed quickly to one side as the chittering that had died down to at least a rather pleasant hum of a noise started back up to a bright and powerful insanity that buzzed and brimmed with a power so frightening it could tear directly into the brain. Eyes of coal flicked to follow another movement far off in the trees, one that could near be heard rustling through the leaves about half a mile off, if one had good hearing.

The steps were slow, languid, muscles moving gracefully under the charred flesh that cracked and flaked every now and then. The Terrian never ran for its food. It stalked it. And then got back on task.

Terrians

They were terrible creatures made of dead flesh that was always peeling and cracking, flitting away with each step the took. The flesh reeked of death, decay, the burning quite often. They always walked slow unless on the prowl after having caught their first whiff of the prey.

The were terrible creatures with teeth made of metal spikes, bone, and shards of broken glass. The insides of their mouths were lined with row after row of these haphazard teeth, all needle thin and sharpened to impossible points. The teeth stuck out at so many angles that it was more often than not that they lacerated their own mouths and created cavities where there should be none if they ever closed their mouths. Their mouths were rarely closed.

They were terrible creatures with metal capped claws on arms so strong that they splintered floorboards that they walked over. They had a monstrously strong tail that could broadside even the strongest of war horses. They ate the horses to try and quench their insatiable appetite.

They were terrible creatures that spoke a terrible chattering language that could borrow into the skull of any man and drive them utterly mad. The sound was a mixture between the non-ending chorus of crickets and the mad insane droning of a group of cackling hyenas. The sound buzzed at first and only grew more insane the closer they grew. It was the only warning of their slow and methodical pacing closer, and by the time they could be heard there really was no way to escape. They would do what needed to be done and then would leave. They could cut through a crowd like a hot knife through butter and running only drew their attention further. They normally kept to themselves, though, and so they were more of a legend in most parts than a reality and many have yet to figure how to kill beasts such as this.

They were terrible creatures and they were created by and followed only one man.

The Investigator.

Niokala: The Journey

It was the gossip on everyone's lips, how the King and Queen got murdered. She couldn't deal with hearing it any longer and continued moving, faster and farther, until the lands were no longer familiar and she could hide more easily in plain sight than needing to duck each time a cart rolled by.

The young girl hid herself in filthy rags so that if she sat as still as possible and held her breath, she could easily be mistaken for a pile of garbage thrown from someone's house to the street corner. She would sneak behind people into various establishments and hide under tables to feed off the scraps and crumbs that people would haphazardly drop on the floor. She slept on the side of the road or, if she was lucky, in a barn.

And this was her life for an incredible length of time. From town to town, village to village, the girl traveled far and wide, not knowing what she was doing, what she was looking for. She knew, by the way her family spoke when they thought she wasn't looking that she had a different mother out there somewhere. It wasn't as if anyone who ever knew her would recognize her, though. She was born with a very defining birthmark, a gorgeous vine work that clung to the entire left side of her body looking much like a tattoo. Replacing that birthmark were huge bubbling scars that made her look as though she were a leper. Her fingers were gnarled and twisted. Her foot was worthless and she was forced to limp everywhere she went. Her eye was forever forced shut and her lips were pulled into the most hideous of grins. It was why she hid underneath filthy rags and slept in the garbage being bitten by rats. Children ran in terror seeing her and adults thought she was ridden with disease and skirted her in a wide berth.

No. No one would recognize her. Her life was terribly lonely never having a place to call home or a soul to call friend. All she had was an equally filthy doll that she lovingly called 'bunny'. She could remember the time she was given the doll.

Her life had been nightmare after daily nightmare as her father, dead in the eyes, allowed people to pay money so they could beat the demon child that has been devastating crops, killing the cows, making their children ill, and any other silly excuse. When no excuse could be thought of, they were to release their own evils into the child in order to keep faithful to their wives and keep their eyes from roaming.

One day a stranger came to town and asked to have the child to himself for a month. No one knew who he was, but he paid a hefty price and was given to his wishes. Not knowing what to expect, she was the most surprised when the man only wished to teach her to speak. But after seven years, much of language was hopeless to the girl. He gave the girl the gift of her stuffed rabbit to help her through the pain of life before it was necessary for him to go. He did everything he was able.

As with most things, there were consequences. When she cried out 'no' one day to her normal beatings, her family decided it was time to try and cut out her tongue. She was escaped out of the house not long after by her sister Violet's decree and with her help. No one ever knew that it was Violet that helped her sister disappear that day. Since then, she has been on the road. Traveling. Forever traveling. Not believing the gossip of the dead King and Queen and wondering if her sister was still alive.