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robbyrobinson · 3 months

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Vicksburg

Chapter 1

The town was abuzz with the whirring of cars and the ceaseless hustling and bustling of busy bodies so obsessed with their routines, they would unknowingly let life pass them by and miss out on the simple things. Several people chatted loudly as they crossed the streets on their way to work. Suffocating, black smoke from many a car’s exhaust pipe permeated the air and polluted the sky with clouds of smog. Rats scavenged for food and left trails of wet, goopy trash along the walking paths. The unsanitary conditions would lead to the spread of several pestilences leading to the town’s hospitals becoming clogged. A clap of thunder eviscerated the sound barrier accompanied by the steady drizzle of rain.

I watched the town fade from view as I rode the public bus. As any who was familiar with this form of transportation could attest to, the bus was congested to the brim with several passengers all with varying characteristics and hygiene. Due to the tight, cramped build in the bus’s structure, many passengers were sandwiched together, some packed together like a can of sardines. And they certainly smelled like it too.

Greasy, slimy sweat rolled down the forehead of a large, burly guy I was forced to sit by. He had sweated so much, his white, buttoned shirt was see-through. His foul, decaying stench wrinkled my nostrils with the urge to gag becoming harder to suppress. His whiskers were wild and unkempt. His eyes so wide, they could have burst from his sockets. When he stared at me, the best I could do was offer a lighthearted smile.

“Well, good afternoon to you, sir.”

He stared at me for a minute not saying anything. His discolored eyes peered in opposite directions as if he was staring into infinity. After nothing of note happened between us, I tried to focus on my trip. I held the handle of my briefcase with some hesitation. The town soon became a dot in my eye before sinking into the inky abyss. This was it. It was really it.

I turned my attention back to the ride. To think this was the last time I would be seeing this town. Sure, it had one school, a single grocery store, and station, but it had its charms such as its park on the western side of the town. I gazed at the man beside me again, but he was still in his own little world. I tapped the handle a few times as I watched the passengers start to settle down into their seats. Those that could not depend on their handgrips. They stood there shaking slightly any time the bus made a stop.

Even then, it felt like the bus was not even close to thinning out instead becoming more inflated by the minute. Every now and then, I looked up to see passengers trickling out. I did not know how they could handle being nearly suffocated by the claustrophobic crowds. It reminded me of the droves of people at auditoriums watching ball games. The air became hotter from the body heat and warm breath radiating from the travelers.

During the third stop, the heavyset gentleman finally left his seat and walked away without as much as saying goodbye. Not that I was intending on saying goodbye anyway, but it would have been thoughtful. A trace of the fat man’s putrid stench lingered in the air. I sighed to myself and plopped the briefcase on the seat. My fingers strummed the side as a twinge of doubt arose within me. It will be a couple hours until I reach my destination. Three hours give or take. The town did not have the best reputation, but my company insisted that I move there.

“Pardon me, my good sir, would you mind if I sat there?”

I shook my head clean of the thoughts and looked up. There stood a well-dressed man wearing beige slacks and an overcoat. He wore a matching top hat on his head and boasted a thin, brown mustache that twirled at the ends. He withdrew his hat and tipped it to me in a friendly gesture.

“Oh, uh, sure. Be my guest.”

The gent elegantly found purchase on the seat and watched me fiddle around with my luggage. After what seemed like an eternity of him staring me down, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card. “My name is Jacques Skinner. Private Investigator.”

He placed the card in my hand, and I flicked it around in my hand to analyze it. “Seems legit. What are you trying to solve?”

Jacques smiled at me, revealing a small space between his two front teeth. “Ever heard of a man named Walter Bean?”

Walter Bean. The name sounded familiar. I rummaged through my mind for a few seconds. “He was the owner of a furniture company, right?”

“Aye. 68-year-old Walter Bean, a CEO and a family man, was the owner of a huge corporation. He was last seen two weeks ago. He apparently was looking to expand his business in the town of Vicksburg. But... well, after he made the business trip, he never came back. Which is where I come in.”

My eyes widened. “Vicksburg? That is where I am going as a matter of fact.”

Jacques’s eyebrow arched his interest peaked. “Really? That is quite the coincidence.”

He withdrew a picture of Walter Bean. He was a slightly portly figure with a balding head and spindly mustache. Walter wore a red, 3XL cotton shirt and khaki pants. He had a half-grin on his face as he stood in front of his office. Jacques rubbed his chin and probed me further.

“Why are you going to Vicksburg if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Business trip,” I explained, “they said it was nonnegotiable.”

“Perhaps. But I am certain you have heard of the story behind the town and why it is held with such disdain?”

I shook my head. “I know that the town is worn down and practically a ghost town, but I am not afraid of any ghost stories.”

He laughed. “Okay then. Legend goes that during the 1770s, the town of Vicksburg was once a prosperous place with friendly faces everywhere. People openly shared with each other, and no one was left without. A real utopia, I guess is the term.”

I quietly listened to the private investigator as he further lectured me on the town’s folklore.

“That was until there was a certain woman who grew up with nothing before marrying into a noble family. She was beloved by her husband, but she had one fear that is universal to everyone regardless of their status: the fear of death. So, she conducted research into the dark practices meeting an undead cultist who indoctrinated her into the worship of the gods of old. She summoned a demon from the bowels of the Earth to grant her the gift of eternal beauty and life. The demon fulfilled that wish, but it required sacrifices from the living.”

“Sacrifices? Gods of old?” I stammered.

“Are you telling the story, good man?” Jacques asked me somewhat annoyed but still smiling.

“Sorry. Just got entrenched in the story. Do go on.”

“One by one, the woman led her family into the Mouth of Hell starting with the servants and then her loving husband and their four kids. From there, more and more of the townspeople disappeared in thin air and in their place... well, let’s just say that demons are the residents now.” He chuckled to himself and returned the photo of Walter to his pocket. “Or that’s what I have heard.”

My mind was awash with a surge of thoughts. “My... that is quite the story. And you are saying that Walter went to Vicksburg?”

“Him and three more gentlemen as well. Either it was because they wanted to expand their businesses, or they were selected almost at random. The previous three had vanished for a few months now. It’s peculiar that they would all leave without telling their families that they should not expect them back anytime soon.”

We talked a bit more about the missing cases. Much like Walter, some of the men missing were the heads of different corporations ranging from furniture to oil. They were all gradually lured to Vicksburg through whatever means and were never heard from again. Eventually, the bus made a stop and the private investigator got off. He waved goodbye to me tipping his hat once more. “Do keep me updated if you find anything peculiar in Vicksburg.”

My eyes were glued on the man as he left the bus and continued his way without looking back. After he left the premises, the bus resumed its designation.

Chapter 2

The tires on the bus screeched to a halt signifying that it was my time to get off. I collected my things and exited the vehicle. The nauseous fumes spewing from the exhaust pipe wafted in my face and nearly knocked the air from my lungs as it sped off leaving me alone. One look around at Vicksburg and I could see why its reputation was not the best.

The town was an ancient relic of the past: dozens of houses were dilapidated with speckles of paint chipping away and flaking off like dandruff. The walls had caved in overtime to where the roofs were barely hanging on by a thread. I passed by buildings that were scorched down to the wood and abandoned to the wrath of Mother Nature. Moss grew along the sides of brick walls and rats ran rampant through the streets. The cold, crisp air smacked me on the nape of my neck sending a shiver up my spine. The grass in the city was totally dead and blackened. Any scarce shrubs and trees there were, they were winding and fatally emaciated.

I had arrived at Vicksburg at around 4 in the morning, so my best initiative was to find a place to stay. I walked down an isolated road with the slightest sense I was being watched from afar and anytime I tried looking in the opposite direction, they would scuttle off. It was hard to believe that anyone would live here, let alone that Walter and the other gentlemen would be compelled to come. Columns held buildings up but the slightest poke would make them crumble. Mud and other debris were flung on the windows obscuring me from peering inside. Almost as if they wanted it that way. The state of disrepair also extended to the roads and walking paths with spindly cracks scattered throughout.

I traveled down the square of the town seeing several small businesses denoting some of the products you could expect to purchase like canned goods or bread. The light posts were faintly lit reminding me of twilight with the sun’s rays partially illuminating the atmosphere, a “perfect” combination wherein it was neither too dark nor completely lit.

In the middle of the square was a large fountain with the sculpture of a scantily clad woman calling to mind those Roman statues. Despite being made from stone, her long locks of hair flowed in the wind. Murky, tarry water poured down from a pot she was holding. Upon a closer look, tiny hints of algae coated the rocky surface adding to its prehistoric state.

After taking in the whole picture of the fountain’s condition, my attention became directed towards the hotel. As with the other structures, the hotel had seen better days having long since fallen into a decrepit state of disarray. Its name rubbed off the sign to where I could vaguely make out a few letters. The paint peeled away from the foundation giving it a hideous, ghastly appearance. Newspapers padded the windows and nasty smoke drifted from the chimney. There were a few areas where the bricks were punched out and smashed on the ground below.

With nowhere else to turn to, I entered the establishment. The scent of decay slammed into my face like a sledgehammer to the head. So much dust accumulated on the furniture and doors, it shot up in the air. The musky debris made my nose recoil in disgust. Coughing, I scanned the surroundings. Two chairs with bare backs lined a shaggy rug that became green from the moss residing on it.

Photos decked the walls some dating back to the 1800s and eroded over time due to the improper maintenance. I approached the service desk spotting a book on the desk. Heavy layers of dust coated the surface. I looked past the desk noticing copious amounts of cobwebs dangling from the bookshelves and ceiling. A small bell laid beside the journal. Weighing my options again, I tentatively pressed the knob.

Ring, ring, ring.

Hm. Nothing. I tapped my fingers on my briefcase and waited a few seconds. I rang the bell again after 10 seconds passed. Still no one stirred from the faint sound. I stared at my wristwatch seeing that it was almost 5. Perhaps if I was more assertive, I could somehow convince a citizen of this town to offer me a place to stay. As I turned to leave, I finally heard a commotion.

“Good morning, sir.”

I turned to the desk again my eyes beholding a peculiar man. Strange... I did not hear him walk behind the service desk and, judging by how sudden his appearance was, he practically manifested or, could he have been hiding on the floor the whole time?

I internally understood people’s apprehension for the physical features of a Vicksburg citizen: the gentleman was pale, deathly so. His skin lacked any ounce of pigmentation, looking more like a reanimated corpse. Not one speck of hair was on his slick body with his cranium briefly illuminated under the faint light. His eyes, however, were the most jarring attribute: they were as black as a starless sky, darker than the pitch-black void. I was uncertain if it was a result of his pupils expanding to collect more light, or if his irises were naturally black. He seemed to notice my repulsion of his peepers, so he... tried offering me a smile.

Except it was the furthest thing from a smile more a poor man’s replication of one. He possessed a row of sharp, jagged teeth that, when parted, only revealed a jet of inky nothingness at the back of his throat. He spoke in a low, guttural voice somehow sounding distant and yet, still close. He arched his head to the side, analyzing the subtlest of my movements. “Welcome to our town, sir.”

There was nothing more that I wanted than to end the conversation and get the hell out of dodge, but where would I go? I tried to muster up as much politeness as I could. “I would like a room.”

The enigmatic man’s eyes widened more. I felt that he was staring into the recesses of my soul and got his jollies from frightening me. “Very good, sir.” His long, skeletal fingers groped the journal.

“How much is a room for the night?” I asked/

“Oh, no need for payment!” he chuckled. Purple goo glistened on his yellow-stained teeth and landed on the desk. “You don’t have to pay a single dime.”

“Really? That would be great.”

Not once during our discussion did the gentleman ever blink. If anything, he would freeze up temporarily and just glare at me like a record that has the issue of skipping before resuming. His moved in a wobbly, drunken stupor with his knees buckling and jerking. Did he even have a pair of feet hidden behind the counter? He pushed the journal to me and handed me a pen.

Once I opened the book. I immediately knew something was amiss. “Walter Bean?”

The employee froze in place. “Ah, yes. He visited this same hotel. We like to keep their names and addresses for documentation.”

“Well, it says that he signed this exactly two weeks ago.”

“We like to record the names and addresses of our guests,” the man replied, somewhat forcefully. His tone sank to a deeper octave.

“Walter has been missing for a long time. This was the place he was last seen, isn’t it?”

The man leaned in looking at me with his black holes for eyes. “I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. For all intended purposes, we are not allowed to disclose our clients’ private information.”

Drat. He was not budging. I could argue with him for hours and hours, but I was not mentally willing to do so. I shrugged and sighed in defeat. “So, just sign my name and address, right?”

“Very good, sir.”

I jotted down my signature and address and closed the book. “This town is... something else.”

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked.

“Just... in a total state of disrepair. Hardly any birds or other animals aside from rats and... everything seems so... bleak.”

He chuckled again hearing my complaints. “You sound like you are starving for some entertainment.”

Without saying anything further, he disappeared almost as quickly as he did manifest. Before I could question him on his sudden interest, he returned holding a flyer in his hand. “Tell me... are you alone?”

“Alone? Why is that crucial information?” Normally I would be put off by that sort of invasive question, but I decided to play along. “I am single, yes.”

The gentleman’s smile widened, purple fluid rolling down his mouth in thick layers. “Perhaps... this would be of interest to you?”

He handed me the flyer. My eyes skimmed the piece of paper the words “Vicksburg’s Annual Mix and Mingle.” My eyebrows stretched in surprise. “A... dating game?”

He jerked a bit, giving a firm grip on his arm. His frail fingers reached out for the flyer in hopes of reclaiming it, but his grip tightened forcing him to reel back. There was visible hurt on his face as if he was conflicted with revealing the occasion to me. He hissed under his breath before the internal conflict resolved itself. “It is a tradition we have here in our little town.”

“And... is it the only thing to do here? Nothing like a movie theater or anything else that grandiose?”

He did not know what I was blabbering on about. “Never mind. I’ll keep this in mind.” The tips of the employees’ mouth curled. “You won’t regret this.”

With nothing more to say, he pulled a key off the hook and dropped it in my open palm. “Enjoy your stay, sir.”

Nodding, I started the long ascent up the stairs. While I left, I heard a shrill voice whispering maliciously at the man. It was so low; however, I could not make out what the heated words were. Come to think of it, I didn’t recall seeing anyone else at the hotel.

The wooden planks creaked under my feet while I approached my room. More dust settled along the rails of the stairs. While I waited for the man, I did sneak a peek at one photo that said the hotel was established 3 centuries ago. You would think that during all that time, they would consider some renovations. From the erosion over the centuries, large gaping holes formed on the floorboards threatening to swallow up any poor sap unaware of their presence.

“Room 3.”

I opened the door and in doing so, several cockroaches scuttered out. Peeping inside, it was a relieving sight to see that room, even though it was old, looked presentable. I settled down on the bed’s cover not daring to even see what was underneath. Later that day once I had settled in, I would have to meet up to discuss my business with the higher ups. While thinking about it, my eyes wondered back to the flyer and Walter’s disappearance. I knew damn well that the employee was lying through his mustard teeth. Thinking back, not only was Walter’s name and address listed, but so were the other men that Jacques had reported missing. All of them arrived at the hotel at some point only they never checked out.

“I’ll contact the private eye soon.” As I settled into bed, my mind continued to whir at the thought of partaking in the annual dating game. Why was the man so insistent on him attending it?

Chapter 3

I let my curiosity about the dating game compel me to consider attending it. I did not expect much to come from it, but it should be fun. Besides, I could learn more about the town’s history and potentially gather some information pertaining to Walter’s disappearance. The meet up was in a large auditorium wherein several of Vicksburg’s populace were present. My curiosity slowly subsided when I noticed how every resident was draped in brown cloaks obscuring their pale, hairless bodies save for their hands. Their eyes were downcast and, much like the employee at the hotel prior, they moved in a drunken stupor with their legs knocking and wobbling about reminding one of those trapeze walks at the circus.

It did not help that the lights were faint, making me bump into things. The raspy, gruff drones of the residents reverberated through the room sounding pained and congested the further they lumbered along. They did not pay much attention to me when I first entered the establishment making me wonder why the man running the service desk was so insistent on me attending. The building was also unbelievably cool but that was to be expected from the town’s ruined state.

Rationally, I considered leaving then and there, but I ended up going along with the “dating game.” I sat at a table when the first option reared up. It was a rather short woman who leered at me with those same, unblinking eyes of coal. I giggled nervously in an attempt to break the ice. “So... uh... what are you interested in?”

She opened her mouth letting a low groan leave her lips. Ooze dripped from her lips. “Okay... could I ask you a question?”

The pale woman was too invested in a huge, hairy cockroach scuttering across the table. Before my eyes, she grabbed it with her open palm and took a huge chomp out of the insect. Her canines ripped clean through the bug, her lips parting as she stretched the roach between her teeth as if the roach was string cheese.

“Thanks for the introduction. But... I have to respectfully decline. Next.”

Another woman sat down this time being taller with a hint of moisture behind her eyes. “I was wondering if you know of a man named Walter Bean? He went missing in your town weeks ago.”

The woman leaned in grinning. A mysterious fluid gushed from her lips when a huge smile spread across her face. Her eyeless sockets bore holes in my body. Her body trembled with pangs of hunger. “Heh, heh... he is here. With us. All are one within our god.”

“God? What are you...!”

Before I could probe her further, the woman lunged at me and pinned me to the ground. Her jaws unhinged and I peered into the depths of her mouth. Slimy drool dangled from the ceiling down to the base of her tongue. In desperation, I tried retaliating, but the taller woman was stronger. “Soon, you too will become part of our god.”

I closed my eyes fully expecting her to bite me in the neck. However, a few solid seconds pass. I reopened my eyes seeing that the woman reeled herself back and clutched her head. “Can’t...hurt...” A shrill voice crawled out from the bowels of her gut making her upper body spasm. “No... yes...! No... get out of my head!” Her head bobbed back and forth with her fingers tightening around her head.”

I became petrified, but now that she was distracted, I took the opportunity to knock her off. With one swift push, the woman fell to her side still in an eternal battle with herself. A mob of Vicksburg residents staggered forward and dragged the woman away. Gasping on the floor, I slowly collected myself. Coming here was a mistake. I was only here because of a business trip so it was in my best interest to pursue it. Maybe once I get that done, I could leave this godforsaken town in the dust.

“Oh my... that was quite the experience, wasn’t it?”

My eyes leered a young woman. What a sight she was. Blue eyes; a flawlessly silky skin complexion. A low-cut red dress and ample buxom. And a dark blonde bob cut with matching piercings. She strolled over to me and knelt at my eye level. “Welcome to Vicksburg, sweetheart.”

She extended a hand to me and, with little consideration for my own safety, I took her hand. Her palm was warm and cozy to the touch. There was something about her that seemed... soothing. “We haven’t had that many visitors to this town in a while. Pray tell, why are you here?”

My mind became a total blur. “I... um... I came here for business, yeah, that’s it.”

The woman laughed to herself. Dimples formed at the corners of her mouth only accentuating her wholesomeness. I got up from the ground my eyes wandering back to the strange woman. “You seem... normal.”

“Normal? Well, I certainly hope so, darling.”

“It’s just that... the other residents here are... somewhat peculiar.”

“Ah, that was my reaction to when I first moved here.” She looked me over, her smile widening. My name is Narcissa Witwe. Judging by your appearance, you must be the one who was invited to Vicksburg.”

“Yes. My boss had connections in this town and had me come as a representative. Funnily enough, I never met him in person.”

Narcissa nodded. My god, I fell further ensnared by this mystery woman. If I had to wager why that was, it was definitely her voice. Herred lipstick popped like precious rubies. Her plump, luscious lips were like hot butter with how flawlessly she spoke. I slowly forgot the horror of being nearly ingested by a psychotic woman. The more she talked, I felt myself falling deeper for her. “You... happened to be invited to attend this occasion?”

“Why, yes. I thought it would be pretty interesting. Vicksburg has this as a tradition. I was honestly getting bored out of my mind, my dear... but you made this more fun.”

I looked down and twiddled my thumbs. “So... you are willing to try this date out?”

“I would love that.”

We ended up talking for hours far past the time limit. Narcissa was truly an interesting individual. She had an extensive knowledge of the town and other subject matter. I found myself further wowed by her effortless recounting of historical events providing me with such an elaborate description, I was wondering if she witnessed any herself. She claimed to have family back in some city and was intending on returning there after the business trip. That infectious laugh of hers was music to my ears. I shared some of my personal information with her explaining the extent of my job and my interests. I have to admit that my eyes had a mind of their own. I gazed at her cleavage any time she bent. She propped her head on her hand and lovingly stared at me.

“Come to think of it, there was something that I was curious about. Have you heard of a man named Walter Bean?”

Narcissa squinted her eyes shut. “The name does ring a bell. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that he’s been missing for quite some time.”

“Hm... perhaps he left the town and just neglected to inform anyone?”

I shrugged. “I suppose so. Sorry to spring something that deep on you.”

“It’s quite alright. After all, I am sure you heard of the rumors permeating the town?”

I nodded. “Yeah, a private investigator told me of them.”

Narcissa frowned. “It’s just so terrible, isn’t it? That a loving wife and mother would sacrifice her own family for eternal youth?”

“Yeah, but it’s a story. We shouldn’t fret over some myth.”

A smile canceled out her frown. “You’re right. Shall we... take this discussion elsewhere?”

Chapter 4

As my time in Vicksburg progressed, I met up with Narcissa more and more. Her cutesy yet mature, witty personality was her signature charm. She filled me in on the origins of the myth again with such vividness, it was like she was there. She expanded on Jacques’s relaying of information explaining how, according to ancient cults, there were once several inhuman, otherworldly gods that made the Earth into a festering cesspool and were worshiped by the cultists until the day the primal threats were sealed away in ancient tombs left to rot. That is, till the day they will arise and treat mankind as an insignificant bug.

“As you know, there was once a woman who was so afraid of death, so she called on the gods to preserve her youth and gain eternal life. She wandered down into the depths of the Earth to beseech an Old One. And the god she sought out was none other than that Pale Beast, the God of the Labyrinth, Eihort. But, as with anything, there was a price to be paid.”

I quietly listened. Who could have fathomed that there were so many hidden societies dedicated to worshiping these unknowable, eldritch beings, and for what cause? Are they obsessed with bringing about the apocalypse and practice their perverse religions to summon them? What ancient books did they have in their possession?

“And you say that this woman found an undead cultist who gave her secrets to communing with Eihort? What did she have to do?”

“Reprehensible acts that went against natural law and would damn her very soul to the darkest pits of Hell. She knew the secrets of where the gods of old laid dead and where they would once more trek. She uncovered the truth behind our known reality and peeked her eyes into infinity. With the assistance of that Pale Beast, she could even travel dimensions without the need of ever leaving home. Life itself was an illusion, a cheap replica of what eternity felt like.”

My heart sank into the depths of my body. Cults. An ancient, primal god. My mind connected the dots back to when I first took part in the dating game. All the citizens of Vicksburg wore cloaks, something that I should have correlated long ago. That woman insisting that Walter and the others were all one in the god she worshiped. I had become ensnared in a tangle of webs.

Screw everything. I had to get out.

Narcissa stared at me her blue eyes reflecting her concern. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“I... just feel a little flushed.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. I can sense how uneasy you are about the cults I mentioned. But don’t worry; there is nothing to be concerned about. I am sure you noticed that the townspeople wear those garments. It is not what you think.”

“Then... why do they wear them?”

“It is rather simple; the people of Vicksburg have a weakness for sunlight. Tell me: have you ever seen any of them walking about during the day?”

I thought back to my previous encounters with the townspeople. Truth be told, they were able to freely shuffle around in the auditorium because of an artificial light. Even the hotel I resided in was dimly lit. “Then... what about when that woman attacked me? She seemed... conflicted about it. It was almost like two halves were fighting each other.”

“Perhaps a temporary bout of madness,” Narcissa casually explained, “besides, Vicksburg hardly has any outsiders visit their town; she was probably just overcome with astonishment.”

I did not say anything to further rebut her. “I... am unsure if I should stay here.”

Narcissa’s eyes lowered in a crestfallen fashion. It nearly pained me to see her upset. “Is that so?”

“I have spent about two weeks here and I was never able to find the people who wanted to do business with me. To be completely frank, I believe that it was all a ruse to make me look like a fool.”

The blonde woman paused and thought intensely of her next move. “If that is the truth, then I may as well explain why I am really here.”

My curiosity piqued in that moment. “What happened?”

“To tell you the truth... my life back home isn’t good. I... have a husband who is a raging alcoholic who would beat me unconscious every day he came back from work. If it wasn’t me, he would go after our two kids. One day, he beat me up so badly. I...” she paused, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I was in the hospital for three months. After that, I somehow managed to escape his wrath and ran away from home.”

She covered her eyes with her hands and bitterly wept into them. Her breathing became staggered the more she let her raw emotions loose. “I know I shouldn’t have abandoned my kids with their father... it was a moment of weakness!”

I didn’t know what to say at that instant. It was quite the bombshell I was handed. Without thinking heavily on it, I gently embraced her. She was startled at first, but she slowly melted into the hug, clasping my back. “I’m... so sorry to hear that.”

“You shouldn’t be. It is not your problem to deal with,” she replied.

“I’m planning on leaving Vicksburg tomorrow. If it is fine with you, would you care to accompany me?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“No, you won’t bother me at all. It’s the least I could do.”

Her smile poked through. “It’s a deal.”

Chapter 5

It was approaching nighttime when I returned to the hotel. I approached the counter and hit the bell. “Sir, I’m informing you that I will be leaving first thing tomorrow.”

Much like the first time I arrived, the employee did not come. I tapped the dusty counter with my fingers in irritation. “Sir, let’s not do this again.”

I allowed some more time to pass, but the man still did not show up. “Is that how you are to treat a customer?”

Refusing to wait any longer, I climbed over the counter nearly getting tangled in cobwebs. “Bleh! Yuck! How can anyone live in this kind of condition?”

From the way the lights were dimly flickering, I was forced to collect as much light into my eyes. As expected, the room was in total disrepair. Books were lying in piles beside the bookshelves. Webs coated furniture and tickled my nose. I fought the urge to sneeze. The floorboards creaked and moaned under my weight. The further I went, the light diluted into beams. “Sir, come out now. This is getting ridiculous...”

Finally, my eyes settled on a heap of clothes. He couldn’t. Could he? The thought of the peculiar man parading around in his birthday suit was burned into my mind. A ruffling of the clothes knocked me out of my train of thought. I slowly advanced towards the clothes with it becoming evident that the man evaporated. Before I could theorize what happened to him, dozens of small white objects erupted from the clothing and scuttered around like cockroaches dispersing when a light is turned on.

“What the?!”

The millions of spidery, bloated beings crawled on the walls and up my clothes. In a panic, I scrambled over the counter the wet squelches of crushed younglings making me squeamish. Debris rained down from the ceiling as a sudden earthquake surged. I could have sworn I heard something writhing in agony from the bowels of the Earth. The foundation of the hotel shook incessantly and groaned with the death of each abomination suggesting a possible link between the two. The stairs finally dissolved and exploded into splinters. I covered my head as best I could, but the monstrous arachnids kept pursuing.

Squish, squish, squish.

The wet, gooey bodies of the monsters popped under my feet like overripe grapes. I had the sinking feeling some of the residue getting between my toes. Eldritch ooze clung to the soles of my shoes restricting my movement. Each time I tried to move, the runny, stringy substance came into contact with the floor and formed a strong adhesive.

And those legs. So many legs. Hundreds of thousands of marbles with an unnatural number of appendages crawled on my body. They creeped their way up my pants legs, with some slithering beneath the fabric. No matter how many times I tried to bat them off, these abominations latched on my body. The hairs on my body rose on end from the impression that I was being licked by the millions of spiders. My skin felt violated from the endless probing and pinching. I grabbed my ankles and continued my mad attempt to free myself.

“H...help...”

A faint, weak murmur caught my attention. I darted my eyes back and forth in search of the scream of urgency seeing no one until I directed my sight to a hideous event. The white, pulsating blobs with stalks for legs linked the innumerable limbs together in huge, grotesque lines and did the most harrowing of things any sensible man could anticipate they started to move in a single motion multiplying and expanding until... something ghastly was taking form.

The gunky paste on the soles of my shoes finally gave way. However, when combined with the invasive pests crawling all over me and making me squirm, I fell on my rear. The monsters kept feeding into the growing figure. Much like a well-oiled machine, the beasts kept feeding themselves into each other. “Help...”

With all of the beasts working together, a human shape came to being. They moved in a swimming motion shifting their icky legs to a side to mimic the gesture of limbs. The dread welled up in the pit of my stomach and crawled up my throat. The insidious spawn multiplied further, breaking apart and restructuring themselves until a vaguely humanoid shape took form. However, its skin became melty and ran like a lit wax candle.

My eyes became blood shot. It was the employee. Except now, it was clear to me that what I was speaking to in my entire stay in Vicksburg were millions of blotches who hardly could pass themselves off as human. The piercing assaulted my ear drums calling to mind a nail scratching a chalkboard. The man, nay, the creature, moved about miserably dragging its upper body along the floor. Its mouth hung agape with a hazed wheeze spewing out. Almost every slight movement brought unending suffering for it, it seemed.

The humanoid anomaly held out its hand to me, gesturing in a hopeful fashion. It jerked itself closer to me, moaning and shuffling just to stay in its form a bit longer. I became frozen temporarily horrified at the unholy display which violated the laws of nature that every being under the sun had to follow. The hotel continued to collapse around us shaking me out of my terror. I slowly backed away from the monster, but it somehow sensed what I was intending to do and clawed its way towards me. It hissed at me, destroying the illusion it was desperately clinging to.

Before it could strike, a plank fell from the collapsing ceiling and pinned it. It let out a high-pitched, hellish shriek, but there was no way I was going to humor it. I rushed to the door, the wet squelches of the broodlings I had killed echoing.

Chapter 6

I succeeded at escaping the hotel as it suffered its final death throes and went up in a heap of primeval dust. As it cleared, all that was left of the establishment was a pile of bricks and smoking debris. My mind was still wrapped around the surreality of the situation. The pale, hairless appearance of the man. All the residents of the town’s bizarre skin complexions. How that woman fought herself when she was deciding whether to eat me or not. None of them were humans but arachnid, hideous carbon copies that struggled to be approachable. I shook my head. Whatever the case, I had to leave Vicksburg, but not before taking Narcissa with me. After all, I could not live with myself if I knowingly abandoned someone in this wretched town.

High-pitched screams filled the empty air alerting me. Crap. More of the “neighbors” are coming, obviously because they heard the collapse of the old building. Without much contemplation, I hid in the alleyway and bit my lower lip. Their gravely, guttural voices were like waterlogged bodies with their constant squelching and damp noises.

Cautiously, I peered from a corner of an abandoned store seeing four cloaked Vicksburg citizens staggering on their legs. If only I could decipher what they were saying to each other only for curiosity’s sake. As they chatted, one of the hooded figures stopped and slipped his hood from his bald head. I heard what sounded like mandibles clanging on each other when I noticed he was getting closer.

I backed further into the alleyway out of concern that he had seen me. The hissing reached its apex with his long, spiderly fingers scraping the edge of the building. I shimmied down to get as close to the ground I could. Even though it was nighttime, the creature’s glare burned holes in the back of my head. He entered the alley sliding his appendages in the dark void. We were so close; I smelled his pungent breath.

Eventually, something else caught his attention and he left with his group. I wiped the sweat off my brow and sighed in relief. With them distracted, I could make my escape attempt. However, before I could continue the next phase of my plan, a feminine voice echoed through the streets. My eyes widened in shock.

“Narcissa!”

I peeped from behind the dilapidated wall and almost doubled over. Narcissa was captured by the Vicksburg anomalies with her distress. Her arms flailed around with the feeble hope of striking one of her threats. I... had to do something. But what could I do?

I rummaged through my mind for a solution, but Narcissa’s screams were making me anxious. Swallowing my pride, I sprinted towards the assembly and balled my fists. I swung wildly in the air smashing my knuckles over and over their gelatinous mass felt like I was punching raw meat.

The more I railed against them, the Vicksburg anomalies gradually lost their corporeal forms and disintegrated exploding into millions of skittering spiders. Narcissa glared in absolute horror upon seeing these humanoid beings dissolve into pulsating, rampant marbles on thousands of stalks.

“What… is this?”

There was no time to explain. I grabbed her wrist and urged her to move. Her warm, silky hand felt amazing to grope, but I threw that thought to the back of my mind. My heart galloped behind my chest my breathing became taxing. My lungs wheezed and buckled beneath my rib cage. The sound of thousands of bony, fleshless legs scraping the ground reverberated on the streets. “Everyone… in this town… all those monstrosities link together mimicking the basic movements of the human body.”

Narcissa shared an equal look of dread. “What should we do?” She grasped my arm and squeezed up against it. Her soft breasts felt amazing around my wedged arm driving me crazy. Her warm breath sent a chill down my spine. Even when she was being terrified, that statuesque glare of hers made her impeccable.

“We have to find a place to hide and wait for things to blow over.”

The blonde woman scratched her head. “If we are looking for a refuge, I know just the place.”

Chapter 7

I let Narcissa lead the way happy that she knew the layouts of the town. Throughout the whole secretive walk, we did not speak a word to each other. The air around us became thick enough to slice with a knife. After about two seconds into it, I tried to break the ice. “So... we have been traveling for a while, haven’t we?”

She did not respond. That night was especially breathtaking. The moon was in close proximity to the Earth resembling a polished full moon. Narcissa used the light radiating from the celestial body and led me further away from the town and into the rough thickets of the woods. The forest was completely bereft of noise. No owls screeched in the night; if there were crickets, they were deathly silent. Narcissa gently tugged my arm deeper in the neck of the woods until we stopped at a cave.

At the entrance, Narcissa withdrew a torch and lit it. She then beckoned me inside. I was not thrilled to be entering into a dreary, claustrophobic area, but those cultists could still be on our track. Soaking in my fears, I entered the cold and dreary cave. A pungent, repulsive smell, that of decaying matter, drifted from the entrance. The odor of ages long pass was not lost on me. I stared at Narcissa wondering how she was holding up, but she was unbothered. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time to waste.”

She flicked her finger through her bangs before leading me further into the maw of the cave. It was silent aside from our footsteps and the soft dripping of moisture in the distance. Water sparkled on the stalacites like beads of diamonds and trickled into an underground pool. I confused the stalagmites for razor, jagged teeth from the erosion over the years. Behind us, the entrance disappeared into the void as shadows encased us. The wind whistled into the cave adding onto the ambiance. If... I was being accurate in my description; I could have sworn I heard the cavern breathe.

And the cavernous walls appeared to twist and contract like a living creature.

My paranoia became flared. I wanted nothing more to leave, but the exit was nowhere to be seen. Besides, if I left on my own volition, I would have become stranded and made to wander in the dark until the end of time. My breathing hazed and goosebumps flared on the surface of my skin. Fluid fell on my shoulders from the stalacites making me wriggle in displeasure. Eventually, Narcissa led me to an opening. “What is this place?”

Narcissa didn’t reply, merely goading me in with her finger. Seeing no reason to doubt her, I entered the area. The secret location was decked in heavy sheets of cobwebs which dangled down from the ceiling. It was also inexplicably damp and the disgusting, putrid scent of decay was even more prominent. My eyes settled on discarded skeletons with their wrists restrained in chains protruding from the walls. They were likely down here for centuries judging from their aged, worn features. Whatever they had witnessed, they died in total fright. Their lower jaws were stretched as far as humanly possible to where they became unhinged. Over the years, the only thing keeping them suspended was the webbing.

The more I soaked in my surroundings, I became aware of the purpose the location served. There was a huge slab situated in front of a bottomless pit at the base of the cave. Arms made from wedges of stone stretched from the structure. Dried blood and viscera were stained on the flat surface of the instrument. I desperately looked at Narcissa with the hopes she was as confused as I was.

However, instead of a detection of fear... Narcissa’s facial expressions shifted to one that was apathetic to the whole thing. I watched her stride over and light a crucible underneath the stone slab. The gaseous, nauseating fumes wafted in the air smelling like rotten flesh and scorched ashes. Her once beautiful, hypnotizing eyes transitioned to a pale blue as if her energy was sucked from her body.

“Hundreds of years ago, the great Old One Eihort first manifested in the town of Vicksburg. This cave is the exact place that, according to folk tales, a woman who came from an impoverished upbringing, made a deal to the gods for eternal beauty and youth.”

“Narcissa? What are you suggesting?”

I felt a wet, slick object grasp my shoulders. The cultists’ voices gurgled and wheezed. Before I could try to fight back, two of the worshipers lifted me off the ground and directed me to the stone slab. I kicked and thrashed. I flailed my arms around. Nothing happened. They tossed me on the hard surface with such force I felt my spine buckle. My wrists were tightly tied to the arms of the instrument, the ropes ate into the tender flesh.

Narcissa stared at me for a few seconds. She was no longer the woman I thought I knew for a duration of my stay in Vicksburg. She strolled over, kneeling and staring at the primitive skeletons. “And once again, my god will have a sacrifice.”

Sacrifice? The word bounced around in my head. Everything was happening so fast. “You... know an awful lot about that myth.”

She laughed. “Well, yes... after all, how old do you think I am?”

I strained against the tight binds to no avail. “The town and its conditions. It was always you.”

“Hundreds of years ago, the town of Vicksburg was once a prosperous area. It was a massive trading town where corn, pumpkins, fabric... you name it were traded and sold. I was born to a poor family, but I was considered the fairest of the town. Of those a nobleman took a liking. After meeting him on several nights, he popped the question to me. And, I said yes.”

I grunted under my breath. “Then why did you betray your own family?”

“What do you think is the one fear that all humans share?” Narcissa asked, though it was clear she did not care what my answer was. “Death. Humans have had several accomplishments when they crawled out from the festering, primordial cesspool. And yet, despite all those achievements, the one thing that they failed to conquer was death.”

She casually pried the skull off a skeleton and flicked her fingers through the jawbones. “I knew that one day... I would die. But... I couldn’t live with that harsh truth. Not someone who is as gorgeous as me!”

Narcissa tossed the skull aside and spoke to the cultists. “You think that you saved me from earlier? Don’t you realize that the people of Vicksburg follow my commands?”

“So... then that means Walter...”

Her eyebrow perked. “Is dead? That should be obvious. I thought you of all people would be more intuitive. He was but a sacrifice. One I lured.”

“That explains why I was told to come here... so the dating game?”

Narcissa hushed me. “A ruse, sweetheart. How else was I supposed to meet up with you?”

The cultists backed away from me and collapsed on their knees in a praying stance.

“My fear of death became so great; I called on the God of the Labyrinth to grant me eternity. Which he did. However, I had neglected the fact that Eihort himself had his own terms. He asked me to foster his brood. Not thinking much about it, I accepted. They are squirming around within me as we speak in a larval state. But... once I realized his brood would eat their way out of my body, it was then that the truth became clear. He merely extended my lifespan, but in order to avoid missing his quota, I had to resort to drastic measures.”

“Your husband and kids... how could you...”

“Necessary sacrifices. After them, I did the same process to the rest of the town. Some would go missing for weeks locked away in my lair with their bodies being dissolved and eaten from the inside out. Curiously, the Broodling acquired memories of their hosts sometimes effortlessly mimicking their voices. I saw that happen with a young, 32-year-old I lured. The Broodling demonstrated mannerisms he himself had. Perhaps when a host perishes, they are never truly gone but exist as bodiless spirits attached to the Broodling.”

It made a considerable amount of sense despite the bizarre nature: the hotel worker and the woman he met at the dating game. Their essences were still present within these anomalies, and they were crying for release. Narcissa cleared her throat and walked over to caress my cheek. “Shame... you were really nice.” She chuckled again. “Eventually in my haste to stay alive, I accidentally destroyed the town. I tried any solution I could think of like introducing interbreeding among the Broodling, but after a few centuries, that was not enough.”

“What... are you getting out of helping an Old One? You know the risks these unspeakable monstrosities have for the Earth.”

“The God of the Labyrinth shall once again be free to rule this world. I intend on becoming a lower royalty once the ancient crypts are opened. I already have served Eihort faithfully as his high priestess for centuries. I am not some lowly, weak, insignificant human. I have ascended to godhood, and I believe I deserve my dues. Wouldn’t you?”

My eyebrows furrowed. “After I comforted you about the abuse you suffered....”

“You BELIEVED that story?” Narcissa’s chuckling became louder and echoed throughout the cave. “Gods... you are as pathetic as all those other humans who I tricked into loving me.”

I snarled. “You’ll never get away with this. I will escape and tell Jacques all about what I learned. This town will be demolished faster than you could even blink.”

Narcissa’s grin stretched around her ears. “Need I remind you that the Broodling follow my commands because of the spawn that are swimming in my stomach? Through Eihort, I have eyes all over the scope of this world. Let’s just say he was paid a very special visit.”

I wanted to say more, perhaps call Narcissa every name under the sun, but I froze when a series of tremors shook the cave to its very core. Narcissa maniacally snickered at me relishing in how utterly defenseless I was. “Now... time for you to make the choice so many before you have.”

My fear bubbled from the deepest regions of my stomach, but there was no one present who could help me. The ceiling quaked as a series of cracks formed. Stalacites of varying sizes crumbled and fell around me. It was as if legions of freight trains collided all at once in a massive collision of biblical proportions.

Chapter 8

And then... I caught a glimpse of those... legs... hundreds of thousands of rigid, bony legs rose out of the hole, scraping and clawing the ground for leverage. Larger than a public bus. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead, the color drained from my face. Eyes upon eyes where such features should not reasonably be. Peepers so horridly massive they eclipsed the eyes of the largest known species on this planet. Its pale, gelatinous mass bubbled to the surface resembling a disgusting, pus-filled pimple and its abdomen. Good god, its abdomen. It was shaped like some overgrown olive with eyes bulging all over every surface of its great body. The God of the Labyrinth towered over me with his unholy glory.

My blood ran cold, and I was at a loss for words. Eihort moved in an abnormal, hypnotizing motion, swaying back and forth with nary a bone to be found on its gelatinous build. I immediately understood what Narcissa meant when she said she had eyes throughout the world: the multi-legged abomination’s “labyrinth” expanded across the globe granting it the illusion of being omnipresent. At any time, some hapless sap could end up lost in the cavernous walls and encounter this Old One. It unnerved me how easy it was.

Narcissa cackled, her smile becoming more twisted. “I have done what you have requested of me, my god. Please, bestow me with your blessings!”

Eihort shifted its many eyeballs to what I assume was his chest. It spoke with the same gravely, gurgled voice its offspring shared. Its voice... was not what I was expecting for a creature as huge as a boulder. Its tone was distant, bizarrely cordial. Despite its terribleness, the Pale God was patient. Unspeakably so.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand, mortal. Your time as my high priest has reached an unfortunate end.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened in horror. “But... my lord...! Have I not faithfully served you for centuries? I have provided you with the best sacrifices to meet your quota!”

“You are such an insignificant, incompetent waste of filth.” Something shifted within Eihort’s indescribable mass stretched and twisted indefinitely into itself forming a colossal fist. “You have forgotten your place, human. You may have an extended life in comparison to the rest of your kind... but you also forget who it is who can take it away.”

Narcissa clasped her hands together in deep prayer. “No, Eihort, please! I am sorry for speaking out of turn! Please, let me serve you for eternity! I will kill whoever I have to in your name if you jus-!”

Without warning, Narcissa keeled forward grimacing. Her eyes bulged upon the realization of what was happening to her. Dozens of Eihort’s brood squirmed and wriggled from within her body ruffling her outer skin. She clutched her midsection between her arms letting rip a haunting, agony-filled moan. Yet, no matter how much she begged, her desperation fell on deaf ears. Narcissa’s face contorted into a twisted scowl with ludicrous tears streaming down. “No... my lord....”

A deathly cough started to choke her out. Gagging profusely, streams of white, spindly critters wriggled free. Her eyes disintegrated as the insidious creatures chewed their way out. Her sobs of pain transitioned to wet squelches and tearing of flesh. The brood slashed their way through her lungs and turned them to slush along with her other vital organs. Narcissa’s once glamorous, flawless skin bubbled and popped as thousands of spawn made a mad dash. Even her skeleton dissolved into more nutrients for the hungry infants. Within three agonizing moments, Narcissa was gone. All that was left of her were her favorite dress and ear piercings.

I struggled to breathe after being bare to witness Narcissa suffer a form of divine punishment. However, I faced the horrific reality that I was now alone with her murderer. Eihort’s arm twisted and shifted, moving from one side of his body to the other as if he was contemplating when an appropriate time was to drop its mass on me. Its myriads of eyes settled on me. Even without the Old One talking, I knew how lowly he thought of me.

“Fear not, my dear human” it whispered. Once more, its voice sounded soothing, but I realized that it was not because of true benevolence but rather manipulation. “I shall give you an offer, and I am certain that you will not choose poorly.”

Everything that I thought I knew disappeared in an instant. We, as humans, were so convinced of our place in the universe, but there existed things, horrible, reality-breaking things. Things that no one of sound mind should fathom or search for truly existed. We are but a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things, and the Old Ones thirst for release.

“You will gestate my brood. Otherwise... I have no further use for you.”

My lips were dry. I... did not know what I should say at that moment. My options were limited considerably: should I agree and allow Eihort to gestate me with his offspring, I don’t think I would be getting off that easily judging by what happened to Narcissa. But...seeing that titanic fist hovering above me, swinging back and forth like a pendulum, was also a situation I wanted to avoid at all costs.

“Unless... you wish to become my Chosen?”

“Chosen?” My mind worked into overdrive to comprehend the offer. That must have been what Narcissa was. If so... if that entails sacrificing the life of someone else for my own safety was not only an irredeemable act, but also very cowardly. After mulling it over, I came to a decision.

“I think I know what I want...”

#eihort #great old ones #lovecraft #h.p. lovecraft #story #horror story #broodling #eldritch abomination #lovecraftian horror

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addisonnie · 1 year

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what's a frat party like irl

fucking absolute chaos. the floor is caving in. it smells like beer and asshole. random people making out. basement dwellers. the walls and ceiling are wet for some reason? it’s so FUCKING muggy. there is literally NO ROOM TO STAND. i mean that shit is SERIOUSLY packed like sardines. going up to the makeshift “bar” and they give you a cup of jungle juice.

the one i usually go to (phi sig) is in the frat BASEMENT. there are pipes on the ceiling and sometimes they drip and splash on you. the floor is slimy like the bottom of a lake. there’s graffiti everywhere. i slipped and fell down the basement stairs hashtag humiliating

the men to women ratio is INSANE because if you’re a man that isn’t a frat bro you’re not getting in, buddy. ladies get in free and they don’t gaf about you but the men…. you gotta know someone to get in so it’s like 90% women 10% men and most of the women are straight so where’s the fun in that

#this was an essay #addi talks

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octaviuslave · 2 years

Text

Chapter 1 Mermaid!Octavius x Reader

The rest of the story can be found on my Wattpad account Engraved in the stars. @Strawberrypockey. It would mean a lot if people read my stuff, I usually do this for my enjoyment, but it’d make me feel better knowing others like me, approve of my stuff. Some feedback wouldn’t hurt either. Okay i’ll shut up, read now :/

"Hey fish face! Want some more sardines? Haha!" My face continued to be stuffed with slimy sardines as the giant hands from the crispy henchman held me against the filthy brick wall in the dark ally. I tried to scream as tears rolled down my scarred face but I was just met with more fish slime "Aww, what's wrong? Trout got your tongue? Hahaha!" Dirk dropped the tin can as he heard the cop siren around the corner "Shit! the pigs! Hurry lets go!".

As they held me up a few inches in the air, I was quickly dropped on my ass and almost immediately started coughing up the putrid fish "Y/n? again? How much trouble are you gonna get in?" I look up to see my uncle in his ridiculous sheriff uniform and his neatly groomed porn star mustache.

"Trouble? Really? I Just had fish shoved down my throat! And your gonna say it was my fault!?" he helped me up and dusted me off "You know that's not what I meant. You really gotta step up to them, I know you can kick some ass but why do you refuse?" I push past him and open the passenger cop door "Because I refuse to be like your brother!" and slammed the door behind me.

When he gets in he locks the door and looks at me "I mean it Y/n. You need to start whooping their asses. They're not gonna leave you alone until you do, no matter how much you think they deserve mercy, assholes will always be assholes" I take a sip of his pop "but that doesn't mean they deserve to be hurt! They could have something going on at home, so they take it out on others. It's not their fault".

As we grew closer to the light house he continues "you do realize Dirk has a perfect life right? His dad is the governor of our town and his mother owns every makeup store and business on the south side. He's a spoiled little punk ass, they don't even abuse him. He's living a life of fucking luxury!" The car came to a stop, but the doors still didn't unlock "I mean it Y/n".

He gently grabs my arm and looks at me "please be nice to your dad, he tries hard to make you happy, even though we aren't the richest, we make enough to get through" I feel the cold September air rush through me as I deeply sigh "I know. I just wish he understood why I don't want to be a stupid fucking fisherman".

He slaps my arm lightly "Hey, I was a fisherman at some point. Look at me now! Sheriff of this little town we call home" "Yeah, and because it's a small town there's literally no crime" "Hey! This was a big dream of mine and your crapping on my birthday party? I don't think so little girl!" we laugh and as I try to leave once more he stops me "before you go girl. Here" He reaches in the dash compartment and pulls out a blue box "it was your moms. She told me to hold it for you, for the right time, before she went to the clouds".

My breath hitched and it felt like time stopped "but I thought everything was burned in the fire?" I opened the box to find a sparkling white pearl necklace "It was found in the safe with a letter saying she wanted you to have it" I felt tears roll in but I stopped them "Thank you Uncle Jay. This means a lot to me" He smile was genuine, but as I clipped it on, everything seemed to change, my breathing seemed cleaner, and I felt like I could see better?

I got out and walked towards the lighthouse where my dads boat sat "Y/n! Where the hell have you been! The high tide is getting low, and we won't be able to find any fish!" I ignore his angry banter and step on to the boat "I got caught up with Morgan at the tackle shop, sorry, lets go" He tries to start up the motor but keeps failing "I filled the bitch up with gas, c'mon!" I push him to the side and try to start it up.

"C'mon baby, start up for me. One more time baby, I believe in you. You can do this." And like magic, she purred to life on the first yank. My dad slaps my back "Alright boat whisperer, HA!" I huffed and sat back down "You need new blades, they're rusted and the engine is covered in barnacle" the matured man grumbled as he steered us away from shore, "You know we don't have the money, I wish we did, man I would make Sally here as good as gold if we did".

I watched our small town fade into the fog as our dog Bucky whimpered at the edge of the deck, staring at us. Like he knew something was wrong. Or. Something wrong was gonna happen. God I hope this wasn't a mistake.

#mermaid #Octopus #Xreader #otto octavius #octaviusxreader #otto x reader #otto octavius x reader #mer!otto #mermaid!au #mermaid otto #mermaid octopus #mermaid octavius #wattpad

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needtoseethisthrough · 9 months

Text

Ghost Nets by A.E. Stallings

Pale syllables drift

through the ear, reticulate

and mercurial

as moonlight's ladder

glitching across the water:

skeletal rigging

of a doomed schooner

crewed by the damned, the phantom

lace of mermaids who

have evanesced to

bone-white spindrift, foam

scudding leeward; un-

canny descant of

whales braiding down the spiral

Fibonacci stair-

case of the hollowed

nautilus; sea dingle of

the eldritch sea witch.

her garden of stings

and fleshy polyps crisscrossed

with neon wiggles,

the trireme's open

rib cage spilling amphorae

checkered with coin light;

or do they involve,

instead, the waterlogged souls

of drowned migrants locked

in the rust bucket's

vomitous hold-mothers and

minors, cohort of

seventeen-year-olds

held for ransom by smugglers

till families paid

four thousand a head

for their sons' passage to no-

where, the deepest trench

off sandy Pylos,

to be chum, sea-worm mumbled

queasy shades thridding

wakes of superyachts

and ferryboats sardined with

red blistered tourists?

Yet they're real: frayed webs

of nylon filaments cut

loose to sleepwalk like

zombies through the seas

snaring loggerhead turtles,

dolphins, birds, squid, £ish,

claws, scales, cartilage

ghastly trash. What's ghosted is

the future: oceans

of unlife, grimed and

slimy, starved, hypoxic, bath-

water warm. Drastic

measures are needed,

they've been saying, as long as

I can remember,

making their plastic

promises. It went sour in

my lifetime, children:

something untangles

and comes undone, but not the

concatenated

undecomposing

mesh of permanent slaughter.

We watched it happen.

Stallings, A.E. “Ghost Nets.”

The New York Book

Review, Aug. 2023, p. 12.

#poetry #activism #quotes #pollution #save the ocean #ocean #sailing #ocean cleanup

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webionaire · 1 year

Text

Photographs”

BUSCH-REISINGER

All that glistens is not silver. All that shines in black-and-white is not machine-age steel, or industrial porcelain, or opalescent shell, or pearly flesh, or some other beautiful modern arrangement in light and space. And what else do the following have in common: Curbside effluent, glittering in the night; dank water in a tin bucket, with a slimy rag; the slick, uncooked flesh of a skinned rabbit that looks ripe for bacteria and the kitchen garbage; naked potatoes, clammy sausages, unnameable larva-like somethings; and, set against a stained, layered, darkly lustrous, unspecifiable surface, a can of sardines, opened to reveal its silvered contents, its lid-key stuck to a rip in the negative as if to peel back the surface of the print as well? All are photographs taken in Paris between 1932 and 1942 by the German expatriate Wolfgang Otto Schulze, alias Wols, better known as the founder of Informel painting.

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langlang53 · 2 years

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Western Foods - A mix of Art, Taste, and even Health

Yeah, Western foods even possess a soul. Do you believe that consuming a plate of ramen could influence your disposition? In making ramen, a chef's emotion will transform in the food taste. Every time a chef is unfortunate, people who eat ramen the chief cook made, will get sad, too. Of which is why folks said Japanese food have got a soul. Japanese foods are beautiful, of which is why you might be suggested to take pleasure in associated with your sight first, before beginning to distribute these people to your tummy. The colors arrangement in the dishes you enjoy is founded on the particular colors of four seasons. This will be the only method to feel Japan's periods without going right now there! Japanese people call it up a harmony, that is born from Japanese people enjoyment of artsy sense and elegance. Through Japanese food, you may feel the cherry blossoms bloom in spring, the particular colorful leaves within fall season, and even the warmth from the sun in summer time. Find tuna, sardines, and bamboo tries for a takedown in summer, or chestnuts and matsuake mushroom in slide. They are not necessarily only good in your eyes, nevertheless also great for your current health! According to some results of a research, Japanese people people have reduce rates of coronary heart disease than just about all other countries. They are also have longer age! Many Japanese folks can reach a lot more than 100 years involving age, and they could even work usually as the fresh. The secret may become their diet. Generally there is no question to say Western cuisines are one of the healthiest in the world! Japanese foods in addition to Japanese restaurants have been spread around the globe, and they are so famous. You may be ingesting a bowl of soba and miso, having sushi, or enjoying a cup of green tea supplement correct now. Here is usually some important data about the content of Japanese food ingredients you ought to read! SEAWEED : It is divided into three kinds: nori, wakame, and konbu. You can find seaweed in boston sushi and onigiri. That is in a contact form of dark green sheets, so that is usually utilized to wrap those meals. Seaweed contains substantial minerals, vitamins Some sort of, C, B12, plus protein. GINGER - This highly aromatic root is typically added to heat the soups, stir fries and sushi. Turmeric has its own benefits. That can reduced cholesterol, avoid arthritis, that help these who have danger of blood clots since it has a compound which is capable of stop platelets sticking together. SPECIES OF FISH - We will be suggested to consume 2 portions of slimy fish weekly. The Omega 3 included in oily seafood is so advantageous for heart health and fitness. Sushi has its own different, and some numerous made of fish. This is why Japanese men and women live longer. Taking in fish makes their heart healthy. A new study created by Akira Skikawa demonstrates the Japanese live inside Japan have 45% Omega 3 throughout the bloodstream than the Japanese that live in other countries. Their bloodstream even has a majority more omega essential oils than Americans'! Taking fish daily could also improve brain function. Observe how old aged-Japanese can do anything at all well because the fresh ones. TOFU : It is recognized as an ideal food for those who are in meatless diet. It has low fat and higher protein. The gentle taste of tofu is delicious, versatile, and inexpensive! Japanese sweets is even bad cholesterol free, therefore it will be good intended for your heart. Tofu is also rich regarding calcium, which is definitely helpful in protecting against accelerated bone damage, such as within menopause. SHITAKE MUSHROOM - For even more than 6000 years, shiitake mushrooms are used as medicine. You should not doubt the performance of adding shitake to your food! Get delicious style of shitake mushrooms, enabling them refresh your immune technique and fight illnesses. They are wealthy of antioxidant! GREEN TEA EXTRACT - Have a cup of green tea in your leisure time time, or put it on your work office. Green tea extract can aid you prevent cancers cells forming. It can also decrease the hypercholesteria levels in the blood. Consuming green tea will decrease the risk regarding heart disease and stroke.

#Japanese food #Japanese cuisine #Japanese dishes #Japanese sweets

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gravegroves · 3 years

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Can I ask about 2 and 8 for the wip tag game?

I've already talked about 8 (search #tag game in my tags and you'll find it).

But omg thank you for asking about 2!!

2. Like a Bat Out of Hell, Indiana

Oh man, oh man. This. This right here? This is my baby. My precious. The one I wrote so self indulgently that even if no one else likes it, I LIKE IT. And I'm completely okay with that.

El and Hopper fail at closing the gate at the end of s2, Billy appears at the Byers' house just in time and so begins a mad dash across the country, trying to outrun the end of the fucking world.

Tw: death (no one we care about though)

Excerpt:

The sound of a car roaring into the driveway has Steve's heart crashing up into his throat and they all turn to watch as headlights dance across the living room walls, sharp and blinding, like a goddamn beacon of hope.

And Steve doesn't have time to think about why the deep rumbling of the engine sounds so familiar.

He moves the kids now or they die.

"Get to the car, now!" Steve screams, just as the window at the end of the hall explodes inward.

Max gets to the door first and tears out of the house, sprinting toward the high beam lights with the boys hot on her heels.

"Billy!" She screams and goddamnit she can't mean--

She reaches the car, yanks the passenger side door open and pushes the front seat forward, shoving Dustin, Mike and Lucas into the back before diving in herself, righting the front seat in a practised move just in time for Steve to jump in after her.

And yep. There he is.

Hargrove's expression would be hilarious if they weren't seconds away from being overrun by a horde of carnivorous monster dogs.

"What the fuck do you losers think you're doing?!" Billy roars, eyes bugging slightly when he recognises Steve.

"Harrington?!"

Steve grabs him by the collar and screams into his face: "Just fucking drive!"

A loud crash has them both snapping their heads to the side just in time to watch as a hundred Demodogs or more come rushing out from behind the Byers' house, heading straight for them.

Without another word, Billy yanks the car into reverse and accelerates before hitting the breaks. Steve's stomach swoops as their momentum lets the wheels slide over the gravel to land perfectly on the road.

He grabs Billy's arm, yanks on it like it might shake some urgency into him.

"Hargrove, go!"

"Seatbelts! Get the seatbelts" Max yells at the others.

That's what she's worried about? Steve thinks, even as he reaches over his shoulder to strap himself in.

Then Billy puts the car into gear and guns it forward and they go from 0 to 70 mph in ten seconds flat, zooming down old, twisting back roads and Steve honestly can't believe that Hargrove's insane, wannabe NASCAR driving is gonna be what saves their asses tonight.

"What the hell are you doing all the way out here with my sister, huh?" Billy yells, taking his eyes off the road to look over at him and Steve might seriously have a fucking heart attack.

"Eyes on the road!" He exclaims, foot searching the footwell for a break pedal that isn't there, "For real, man? You want to do this now?!"

"Or you can get out and fucking walk, amigo," Billy snarls, swerving around another Demodog leaping for the hood of his car, "What the hell is up with these dogs?"

"Billy, stop it! Can you jus-- look out!" Max shrieks, her arm shooting between them to point straight ahead and the kids all begin yelling as the flower-in-bloom-faced ugly fuck grows larger in the windscreen at an alarming speed.

Smooth as butter, Billy avoids the gaping creature in their path, not taking his foot off the accelerator for even a second. Steve's heart beats a drum solo against his adam's apple. His fingers feel fused to the edges of the seat, holding on for dear life.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that?" Billy turns to look behind him and Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw hurts, barely restraining himself from yanking Billy around to face forward again.

"Hargrove, I swear to God--"

"Oh god, look."

Steve turns his head the slightest amount to see Lucas pointing out of the window at the treeline to their right.

Demodogs.

Lots of them.

So many slimy, greyish bodies that the forest floor has all but disappeared and transformed into a churning sea of dark, slick oil.

More worryingly, they're all running in the same direction as the Camaro.

Fuck.

"What the…" Billy falters when he looks out of the window at the treeline, then seems to shake it off, placing his undivided attention back on the road for once.

He speeds up to pass a whole group of the beasts trying to cross to the other side, narrowly misses being cut off entirely by the mass of Demodog bodies. Steve releases a hand from the seat only to clutch at the grab handle on the door. He closes his eyes, swears he can feel his stomach fall out of his ass when the wheels on his side of the car lift into the air for half a beat.

"Shit, we're gonna die!" Dustin wails, voice wobbly as Billy jerks the wheel again to avoid a creature charging straight for them. If the kids weren't already packed in like sardines they'd be sliding around back there, seatbelt or no. "We're definitely gonna die! This psycho is gonna kill us before the monsters do!"

Billy scowls into the rear-view mirror and grits out "Hey kid, you're welcome to get out and walk."

"You literally tried to run us off the road a week ago--"

"Not the time, Dustin!" Max snaps and shushes him.

"We need to get to the gate!" Mike blurts out, leaning forward to speak directly at Steve. Demanding. "We need to help El!"

Steve doesn't even have the faintest idea of how to begin doing any of that.

"Dude, we can't just go back there, are you crazy--" Lucas pulls him back and they continue to argue in harsh whispers.

"If you losers don't shut the fuck up, I'll crash this goddamn car just so I can take you all with me." Billy barks, knuckles white on the wheel.

"Oh my god, see! What did I tell you?" Dustin exclaims, "He's dangerous, Steve!"

Yeah, well, he's all that we've got, Steve doesn’t say. "Shut up, Dustin."

They turn into the first proper residential street and Billy misses a tree by an inch as he tries to avoid colliding with five demodogs hunched over something on the road.

Oh god, was that a body?

"Harrington, where the fuck am I going?"

Steve closes his eyes, overwhelmed and completely out of his depth. They might have been the B team, but there hadn't actually been a plan B--

"Fuck, fuck! I don't know--"

"Billy," Max pleads, voice shaky with terror, silencing them all, "My mom…"

Billy sighs explosively before turning down a side street, barely slowing down.

"Shit."

*****

It's not just Max's mom, but Dustin's mom, too. Lucas's family. Mike's family.

They reach Old Cherry Road first and Billy barely allows the car to come to a full stop, Demodogs further down the street are taking notice of them already, stalking forward, mouths blooming excitedly. Steve eyes them warily until a garbled oh fuck from the back seat draws his attention to the other side of the street and--

It's bad.

The porch light sets the stage for a grizzly scene at the Hargrove residence. A woman lies directly beneath it, like the opening shot to a fucked up play, her head of red hair spilling over the top step.

She's very obviously dead. Steve can see where she must have tripped on the welcome rug -- awkwardly stiff and upturned between her feet -- and he can only hope she got knocked out in the fall and didn't feel a thing that came after. There isn't much left between her head and her knees except for a dark patch of gøre.

The headless body of a man lies slumped against a truck parked in the driveway, one arm stuck through the open car door, half torn off within his jacket. Blood still running down the concrete incline, pooling in the roadside gutter.

"Oh, you Bastard," Billy spits, barely a whisper.

The longer Steve stares, the more horrifying the scene becomes.

He doesn't want Max to see this. Or Billy.

Max doesn't make a sound.

Billy slams his fist against the steering wheel a couple of times, then peels away from the curb before the Demodogs can get too close.

*****

Dustin's house is dark. There's no car in the driveway.

"I told her Mews had been seen in Loch Nora. She must still be out looking..." Dustin trails off quietly. Shellshocked.

It's almost midnight. Steve doubts she's still out looking for a cat. And if she is...

"I wanted to keep her out of the way."

No one says anything.

They drive.

*****

The Sinclair house is dark, too, no lights on except for the motion sensor activated ones over the empty carport.

Billy doesn't bother slowing down. The area is absolutely swarming with creatures already.

"It's so late. Where..." Lucas falters, scanning the houses they pass, like he made a mistake and his home will appear any minute now. "Where did they go?"

"I'm sure they're okay, man," Steve tries, but it feels flat, false, "If they're in a car they could make it out. Your mom too, Dustin."

Billy grimaces, but says nothing.

"What?" Steve demands.

"I was just here looking for Max. They were home."

He keeps a laser focus on the road now, on avoiding the monsters spilling out onto their path, growling when he's forced to change down a gear before aggressively working his way up in speed once more, jaw clenched tight.

"You probably caught them on their way out." Steve insists.

Billy looks doubtful, but he nods anyway. Neither of them enough of an asshole to take a kid's hopes away like that.

They move on.

*****

"Let me out," Mike says, quietly. Trembling. Hands pushing against the back of Steve's seat like he'll be able to bend it out of the way through sheer force of will.

No one moves.

The front door to the Wheeler home is open, door splintered where the deadbolt held, but the wood didn't. The car is parked in the carport. All the lights are on.

Karen Wheeler's corpse lies forgotten and half devoured on the front lawn.

In the driveway, a tiny yellow sock lies next to bloody drag marks disappearing into the grass--

Oh god...

"Let me out."

Steve's lips move, but he can't seem to draw breath enough to produce sound..

Billy seems to shake himself out of a daze, takes a deep breath beside him. "Nah, kid."

And Mike just snaps.

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" He screams, punching and kicking the seat in front of him.

Steve leans forward out of the seat and puts his head in his hands.

"Let me out! LET ME OUT!" Mike shrieks, begs.

"No." Billy says again, evenly.

Mike's voice breaks on a wordless scream.

Steve wants to do his own bit of kicking and screaming, but someone needs to keep their fucking head in the game or they're all going to end up dead.

By some twisted turn of fate that someone is turning out to be Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hysterically, he remembers hearing about Billy abandoning Carla Green to walk home alone from the quarry after she'd scratched the Camaro's dashboard with her fake nails by accident.

Mike kicks the back of the seat again. Billy says nothing.

All the kids are crying, now.

Mike's screams eventually taper off into babbling sobs and Dustin does his best to comfort him through his own half-choked cries. Lucas is whispering to a sobbing Max, his own breaths hitching and heaving uncontrollably, on the edge of breaking.

Steve's eyes sting, hidden behind his hands.

He lifts his head up and glances over at Billy, still tracking the side of the road, the edge of the trees. He looks so normal that it almost throws Steve for a loop. He wants to grab Billy by the collar again. Shake him. Scream: what part of this aren't you getting?

"The fuck is going on?" Billy hisses, almost to himself and oh, right.

"Later," Steve promises, hoarsely, digs the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough to see stars.

"You know what they are?"

"Yeah." Steve says after a great deal of swallowing past the lump in his throat.

If Hargrove's voice betrays even a hint of emotion Steve knows he's gonna fucking lose it. Luckily, the guy keeps his shit together so Steve can keep a lid on his.

"You know what kills them?" Billy continues.

"Heat," Dustin says, voice thick, "And, like, bullets."

Billy nods, "Alright, how warm are we talking?"

"They don't like warm weather or daylight, but I don't think it kills them. Weakens them, maybe. Sends them underground."

"Fire will." Steve says, pulling at his hair until it hurts, dragging himself out of foggy despair and into the present where he's needed. He accidentally runs his gaze past Karen's body and tries not to dry-heave.

Mike is still crying behind him and god fuck, they should get out of here. The kid shouldn't be seeing this.

"Where do we go?" Max whispers, like she read his mind. She sounds as lost as Steve feels.

Billy revs the engine and turns to Steve, "Any requests?"

Steve thinks about the huge empty house waiting for him, a gaping nightmare at the edge of the woods. He balks at the thought.

Where the fuck do we go?

"Just get us out of Hawkins."

#anon ask #tag game #my precious #gravegroves writes #harringrove

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bladesappreciationweek · 3 years

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Resources for Day Three: Nia Ellarious

From her upbringing within the Temple of Light to her possession by the dark lord, Nia’s journey is full of compelling contrasts. And of course, her day falls on Valentines Day!

Assembled Transparents | Character Biography

Note: While the races in Blades are imaginary, there is strong consensus within our fandom that Nia is a person of color. Please ensure your faceclaims for Nia are as well, and that your art matches her main in-game sprite.

Quotes: “He is under my protection.”

“Also my face feels warm. Is my face supposed to feel warm? But it’s a good warm. Or is it? Am I dying?” [while drinking for the first time]

signal boosts appreciated

On Being Sheltered

“I feel like all I do is tell you about the things I’ve never done. You must think I’m so naive.”

“Once you get past the terror, this is rather thrilling!”

“Everything is so new to me. The world, the people, the feeling of adventure. I don’t really know how to react to it all.”

“This masquerade sounds like a trap...doesn’t it?”

On the Light

“It’s all I’ve ever known...using the power of the Light to serve others.”

“The Light is all but forgotten in the realms these days. No one seems to understand how much it means to me.”

“Anything I can do to ease the suffering in the world feels worthwhile.”

“It’s not enough to live. It’s a question of what you live for.”

“I don’t always manage, but I do try to find the Light in every situation.”

“We can’t control what history will say about us, but we can control how we treat other.”

“Light shine through me, cast your glow upon this creature of foulness and shadow!”

“I still want to serve the Light, but I feel different now, too. Like I don’t really want to go back.”

On Romance

“I...I feel safe around you, [MC[.”

“I like showing off that I’m with you.”

“In the Temple, they told us that anyone raised in the secular world was venal and shallow. They needed their minds and souls opened to the Light. But you knew nothing of the Light when I met you, and yet, you’re the truest soul I have ever known.”

”These past several months, I’ve had far more freedom. Freedom to be myself. To make my own choices. And...to be with you.” On Everything Else

“I think swamp-hippos are adorable.”

“Yeah...I love those little fish...with their slimy skin...and their dead empty eyes...so soulless and cold” [while pretending to want sardines]

“They’re still human beings! Our flock, our responsibility! As agents of the Light, we’re supposed to protect them, to heal them...not use them for a sacrifice!”

Quotes About Nia

“It means I get to show you all those things for the first time. And I consider myself pretty lucky for that.” MC

“Minutes add up, Nia. They become hours. Days. Weeks. Years” Tyril

“You see the world with so much more wonder than the rest of us. Where we see the bad, you see the good.” MC “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and and out, Nia.” MC

“You are fortunate, Nia. You knew from childhood what your destiny would be. A servant of the Light and all its children.” Tyril

#playchoices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #blades of light and shadow #bladesaw #creator resources

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gothamsworst · 3 years

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What do you think Waylon, Edward, and Harley’s LEAST favorite foods are?

Waylon Jones:

Vegetables. Raw ones, specifically, but he’s not a big fan when they’re cooked either. They’re bitter and don’t taste nearly as good as meat does, raw or not. Then again, nothing is better than meat for a carnivore like him.

Edward Nygma:

It’s not really a food, per se, but the smell of beer and cigars are enough to make him sick. He’s also not a huge fan of fast food. Too greasy and “low-brow” for him (he says, shoveling his mouth full of cheap Chinese take-out).

Harley-Quinn:

There’s not much that she doesn’t like, but are a few. She’ll never try escargot, and if you DARE to offer her sardine pizza, she might just break a plate over your head. Something about slimy, salty foods gross her out.

#ask #dc #batman #gotham rogues #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #edward nygma #riddler #waylon jones #killer croc #headcanons #food #sfw #silly #angst if you squint #Anonymous

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matrixaffiliate · 3 years

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Awaken

New Story! - FFN and AO3

For the wonderful, darling, amazing @the-words-in-my-head-12 as part of the @harryandginuary Gift Exchange!

It's been ten years since Harry finished Hogwarts, ten years since he and Ginny decided to say goodbye, and ten years since he's seen her. But that all changes when he turns the corner on the pavement in Magical London. This chance encounter might just gain Harry a second chance at the one that got away. Magical AU-No Voldemort.

Awaken

Chapter 1

The busy streets of Magical London in August just before the sun finally starts to sink in the sky give Harry a sense of what a can of sardines must feel like, cramped, slimy, and surrounded by a stench that he doesn't want to name. He has realized over the last ten years of having to come into the city that he hates it, but growing up in Godric's Hollow, out in the sprawling green of Gloucestershire, one can hardly blame him for it. Harry reminds himself for the umpteenth time that he'll be out of it in just an hour or so. He's only here to grab a few things, stopping at those specialty shops that won't survive unless they place themselves in the middle of the largest group of people they can find. It's when he turns the corner towards one such shop, the only place he's ever found that makes broomstick polish that doesn't stain his clothes, that he collides into her.

He doesn't realize it's her at first, gripping the person's shoulders to keep them both from falling, but then she cries out to apologize and he freezes because he knows that voice. He hasn't heard it in ten years, but it's like he's seventeen all over again and Harry looks down and she's staring up at him with her lips parted like she might have continued her apology until she realized exactly who she was looking at.

"Gin."

As if her name is an incantation, the images from his last year at Hogwarts come rushing back to him. Lying out on the grounds with Ginny in his arms. Quidditch practices, after Quidditch practices, her lips on his, searing, frantic. The stress of his NEWT year, being Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, the newness to their relationship wearing off, the fighting, the night they decided it was best to call it off, best to let him go out and start his life, best to let her finish her NEWT year without a long-distance boyfriend, best to bring it all to an end. They were seventeen and sixteen and while letters from home had helped a little in the fights, Harry feels like they were both ill-prepared to try and work through anything without someone coaching them through it. They were so young.

"Harry." She smiles up at him, though he notices her eyes look as far away as he feels.

"Hi," he finally manages to whisper before they're jostled and shoved against the building to his right. Instinctively he pulls her into him to keep her shoulder from also hitting the rough bricks. That action brings more memories, more images, more of Ginny rushing back to his mind as he smells that flowery scent again for the first time in a decade. Merlin, they had been so young.

"Hi," she pulls back, and Harry realizes he's holding her far too close. They aren't seventeen and sixteen anymore and trying to be together. He's twenty-seven and she'll be twenty-six at the end of the week; they're past that part of their lives.

He drops his arms and she pulls away entirely and Harry can't begin to describe the ache in his chest. It's almost like when they called it off at the end of his seventh year, but that had a feeling of relief, knowing she'd be happier mixed in with the hurt and the frustration. This time, all those feelings are replaced with this overwhelming desire to pull her back.

"How, er, how have you been?" It's a silly question, he's still best mates with Ron, he knows roughly, vaguely, how her life has gone - small things like her Quidditch career and how mad she was when Ron and Hermione chose to elope - but it's the only question he can think to ask.

He realizes a second too late his hand is already in his hair. She smiles though and he can't help but smile back.

"I've been good, and you?"

"Good," he nods and then they stand there, staring at each other in silence as London whizzes around them. It only takes London ten seconds to jostle them again though and it seems to bring both of them back to reality.

"Well," she hesitates, looking him in the eye a moment longer before she starts again, "I should probably-"

"Of course, sorry," Harry steps back, "It was good to see you."

"You too," she bites her lip and Harry receives a new rush of emotions as that image comes back to him in so many different situations from their roughly eight months together.

She brushes his arm as she steps past him and Harry unconsciously breathes her in before she disappears around the corner.

Gone.

Again.

He's in an off mood for the rest of the day as he runs his errands, and he blames it on the city. He blames it on one of the stores being out of what he wanted. He blames it on the heat of the day. He blames it on everything other than the glaring fact that he saw Ginny again.

Because she's just an ex-girlfriend. He has a few of those now, it's nothing out of the ordinary, everyone has an ex or a few, so it isn't seeing Ginny that's caused this feeling that everything in his life is wrong.

It's the long week he's having. It's how work has been stressing him out lately. It's the way the big city affected him today.

It has nothing to do with Ginny.

Besides, he reasons, we were so young back then; we've grown apart as we've grown older.

Merlin, they'd been kids! Blowing everything out of proportion, seeing only as far as the end of the next hour, too scared to really be open with each other, too inexperienced to realize they needed to be; he's amazed that they made it the eight months they did because he's rather ashamed of a lot of his behavior from his teens. His family assures him it's how most everyone feels; being a teenager is no one's forte. But Harry knows he hurt people; he hurt Ginny, and that's a sour pill to swallow. But he pushes it away to try and focus on making himself some dinner. It's not like he can go back and fix it.

Harry stops midway from setting the pan on the hot pad as his brain latches on to the flippant thought, racing through ideas from letters of apology to showing up on her front doorstep.

"No." He says it out loud, though it's only him in his little two-bedroom home. He isn't going to go barging back in on her life, for all he knows she has a boyfriend.

To his great surprise, the monster in his chest from when he was a teenager comes roaring back to life as if it hadn't been dead and gone since he and Ginny broke up.

Harry had attributed its absence to him growing up, maturing, becoming better, because it hadn't come back after Ginny. He mutters darkly at the feeling, trying to banish it away. He's not jealous. He's not that type. He's secure. Trusting. An adult more importantly.

Besides, Ginny isn't his!

He groans and sets the pan down to dish himself his dinner. He needs to stop. This train of thought is only going to drive him mad, and probably make him do something stupid; he is James Potter's son, after all, so the odds are high he'll do something that he'll wish he hadn't.

The battle is fought all evening, but it's a lost cause because his mind has decided to be a Pensieve, playing their whole relationship through his head again and again and again. He can't help but realize he's never done this with the other women he's dated. Even on the occasions he's run into them after they've ended things, he's always been able to brush it off within a few hours.

It's guilt, he reasons. He was a self-centered, inconsiderate teenager; he was older than her and should have known better; he knows that he hurt her and he's feeling guilty for that because he never properly apologized to her for it. Even when they broke up, he didn't apologize. Yes, that's what this is, it's guilt; if he can apologize to her, it will go away. And so, he pulls out a paper and pen and sits down to write.

A letter is a pretty regular task, tedious even, but as Harry sits at his little table, it feels more difficult than spell manipulation, something he does on the daily for work. The pen seems heavy in his hand and his mind slows, unable to come up with the words to put on the page.

"Well, write her name," He chides himself, but even that action feels heavy as his pen loops the G and dots the I and adds the comma after the N. He briefly wonders if he should write out Ginny and not Gin, but he never really called her by anything else when they were together. To the point that his whole family only called her Gin as well - something he never thought to ask if she minded. But it was all because 'Ginny' was Ron's baby sister; 'Gin' was his.

Harry pushes his hands into his hair and groans. He's twenty-seven years old! He should be able to write a simple apology!

Again he picks up the pen and this time forces himself to start.

Gin,

Seeing you today, it was it reminded me of a lot of things how I was. Mostly what a prat I was when we were teenagers dating. I wanted to apologize. I should have apologized the moment I saw you today. I should have apologized back then. I know it’s been ten years, that this is very past due, but I am sorry. You didn’t deserve a lot any of the rubbish I dished out, and I know wish this wasn’t such a late apology, but late or not, you deserve to have it. Hope life is well, and happy birthday Sunday.

Harry

He reads it ten times before he forces himself to fold it up and attach it to Hedwig's leg. "If you don't find her just take it to the Burrow. I have no idea where she's living now." Hedwig tilts her head at him like he's stating the obvious, which he realizes he is. Harry sighs and opens the window. "Off you go then."

Hedwig floats out into the night and Harry expects to feel lighter, which he does, but what he doesn't expect is how his mind won't let Gin go. Now though, instead of the feelings of all the things he did wrong, his mind plays all of the good things over and over again.

The laughter - he doesn't think he's laughed as much since then - their private jokes, the way she'd roll her eyes anytime someone said something she found tedious or ridiculous, how quickly she caught onto everything, from course work to their friends' problems she always seemed to get to the heart of things, her smile going soft when he'd whisper in her ear, her small hand in his, her lips pressed against his, her body tucked up against his, her blazing brown eyes staring up at him with fire, the nights where they would talk until four in the morning in the common room while they stole kisses, and it would always end with him finding excuses to have her run her fingers through his hair because it was just the most calming feeling in the world to have her fingernails run along his scalp.

The memories invade his dreams that night, and Harry can't honestly say he minds. Ginny was always fire and blazing, and when things were good between them he basked in the glow of her bright smiles and the warmth of her very presence.

But it's passed now, he reminds himself the next morning, even as his mind tries to replay a particularly happy hour spent down by the lake. She's certainly moved on, it's been ten years after all, and while he might be unattached right now, he has moved on too. He tries to think of the other women, the ones he's been with since Ginny, but the memories have to be dredged out of the archives of his mind, dusted off, held up to the light, and even then they're fuzzy.

It's because I saw her. He tries to reassure himself. If I hadn't seen her it would be just as hard to remember her. But that feels like a lie and he knows it probably is because the truth of the matter is that he's always been able to pull the memories of Gin out at any moment he cares. Thinking it through, as he's getting ready for work, he realizes that he's actually pulled these memories with Gin forward more often than most of his memories.

But it's only because so much reminds him of her.

She plays for the Holyhead Harpies, so Quidditch is always a reminder of Ginny. Red usually reminds him of her hair, comparing if it's brighter or duller or darker or lighter than the bright red that he thinks of as Gin's. Half of Britain has freckles and so he remembers hers just about any moment he's close enough to see someone's freckled face. She always bought Fizzing Whizzbees to eat while she revised and so anytime he sees them he thinks of her while his mouth waters, whether from the candy or the memories of her eating them he isn't sure. The list goes on and on. The girl is simply everywhere.

She isn't a girl anymore, though. His mind pulls back to looking down at the woman she'd become. Yesterday, his hands on her shoulders, when he pulled her into him to shield her from the wall they were pushed into, she didn't feel like the slight teenager she'd been ten years ago. She'd grown into herself, in so many ways, her face was more confident now, it lacked that desperate need to prove herself, and while she was still about the same height, her body had finally caught up with the height, filling in her curves and making it very obvious she wasn't a sixteen-year-old anymore.

In frustration, Harry shoves his hand into his hair and pulls, trying to gain control over his wandering thoughts. That's when Hedwig taps on the window and Harry's heart stops for a full second when he sees that she has a letter attached to her leg.

Slowly he opens the window and removes the letter, breathing in relief that it isn't the one he sent out but feeling the anxiety build from the writing on the front of it. It's from Gin, her handwriting still so familiar to him even after all this time, and he chuckles at the drops of ink her quill splattered near the corner of the parchment.

Harry,

Thank you. I'm sorry too, I know I wasn't the easiest to put up with back then either. I'm impressed you remembered my birthday, it's been a really long time. What are you up to these days?

Gin

Harry stares at the note, trying to determine his feelings because they are coming at him in a rush right now and he can't sort them out individually. He can, however, look at the pieces of what's happened so far. It's the same process he uses when deconstructing spells, and it's the only thing he can think to do as he stares at her pretty handwriting.

She wrote him back. He thinks this is the first thing to examine. He didn't expect a response. He's not sure he wanted one, but now that he has one, he's rather glad of it. It seems important somehow that he can converse with her, even if it's just mundane pleasantries via owl.

She accepted his apology. That's the next thing he thinks on, and he's able to pull out that he's relieved because he wasn't sure she would.

She apologized as well. This is more difficult to decipher how he feels about it. While he knows it takes two to tango, so to speak, he definitely feels he's more to blame than she. Still, her apology brings a small smile to his face, and even though he doesn't think he deserves it, he's appreciative that she felt to do so.

He impressed her by remembering her birthday. This feeling is a little easier to identify: embarrassment. He wished her a happy birthday and it's been a decade since they saw each other. It's a miracle that she's only impressed because he's aware of how obsessed it must look that in ten years he hasn't forgotten her birthday. Regardless of the fact that she doesn't seem to think it weird, he still shifts uncomfortably as he reads that line.

It's the last line of her letter that leaves Harry the most internally unsure of what he wants to do. Her last line, the question of what he's up to, it's an open invitation to contact her again, to respond to the letter, to not go another ten years without knowing at least something of what's going on in the other's life. There's a part of him that wants this, wants to know if they could start a friendship after everything that's transpired, maybe let it grow into something more again, like it did the first time. But another part of his mind tells him to stay away, to write a vague response that doesn't open the door for more interaction, and finally close this part of his life.

The clock on his wall chimes and Harry sighs; his time to think this through has run out. He slips the letter into his pocket, grabs his wand, and Apparates to work.

He realizes as the day wears on that he shouldn't have brought it with him. The letter is constantly on his mind which means Gin is also constantly on his mind. The last time Gin was constantly on his mind, it was just his school marks on the line. Now it's his job.

"Harry, what is going on?" Sirius asks after he's beckoned him over.

Alright, so maybe his job isn't on the line - working for one's dad and godfather does come with its advantages.

"Sorry, I'm preoccupied, I'll focus."

"What are you preoccupied about?" James comes up behind him and Harry holds back the groan that tries to escape his lips.

"Just stuff from my school years, realizing that I haven't properly apologized to a lot of people."

His dad laughs and throws an arm around him. "Say that around your mum, you'll make her proud."

Harry laughs and Sirius ruffles his hair. "Remember that most people do move on with their lives Harry, even when offenses aren't formally acknowledged and amends made."

"You're right," Harry tries to focus on the lightness he feels with his father and godfather and tells his brain to think about Gin later.

This works for the rest of the morning, but after lunch, when he's supposed to be documenting what he went through and found this morning, his mind wanders back again and he can't seem to get a grip. The problem is that he promised his dad this would get done today, so he has to get a grip. But his mind is spinning with all the things he could tell Gin, all the things she might tell him, everything that they've missed between each other in these ten years.

I'll just write it out, he thinks as he grabs a clean sheet of paper and his pen. If he can write the letter he'll be able to work and then he can decide tonight if he's going to send the letter or not. Just because the letter is written doesn't mean it needs to be sent. He has all afternoon to decide.

Gin,

Thank you, I don't particularly think I deserved your apology, but I'm glad for it all the same. I do still remember your birthday, but I promise it isn't mapped out on a dozen different calendars around my house. However, if you do show up on my doorstep don't take it personally if I take a few minutes to open the door.

I work with Dad and Sirius, I'm sure you remember they were trying to decipher all the parts in spells when we were in school, figure out what made them work and not work. Well, the Ministry was keen to know what made dark spells work and not work and how people can manipulate them, so Dad and Sirius started contracting with them. We still do our own work to map out spells, but we now spend a lot of time working with the Aurors to pull apart dark spells, often having to work backward from what the effects were to get to the actual spell that caused it, then determining where the weak points are. I love it, but I won't keep boring you with the details.

I saw that you made the starting team a few seasons ago. Congratulations on that. Is it everything you'd dreamed? I remember it was your favorite thing to talk about back then, imagining what it would be like when you made it to the big leagues, star chaser on a top team. Where do you go from here? Planning on being the head coach now?

I'm really glad I ran into you yesterday. Well, I'm not glad I bashed into you, but I'm glad I saw you. It's been a long time.

Harry

He signs his name and feels some of the tension ease out of his neck and shoulders. He chuckles at how quickly the words came once he quipped about how he wasn't secretly obsessed with her, it felt like the way they'd joke back then. He doesn't struggle to work for the rest of the day, and he feels like a dark cloud has been lifted from over him. So much so that once he's home, he doesn't even read the letter a second time, he just ties it to Hedwig and sends it out.

He's shocked when Hedwig returns about ten at night, Gin's response tied to her leg.

Harry,

You're sure you aren't harboring stolen calendars, all with the month of August pulled out so that you can circle the eleventh on each one with a bright red pen? I think I'm actually disappointed at the thought that you don't.

Working with your dad and godfather must be fun. Not that I would want to work with my family, but your family was always a guarantee for a laugh. How is everyone on your side? I don't know if Ron keeps you abreast of what's happening with our side other than himself and Hermione, so I won't risk boring you with things you might already know.

Being a starter has been a dream come true, though I had no idea what I was really in for back then. It's so much work outside of training and games. There's the press, the briefings before and after the press, the paperwork, the reading and examining of our playbooks, the meetings. I swear it's a wonder that we manage to make it through everything in a training day.

To be honest, I don't know what's next. As long as I don't get injured and keep playing at the level I am, I probably have five to ten more years to be where I'm at with the Harpies. I've thought about coaching, but I don't know if that's really what I want after this dream is over. I was so focused on achieving this dream, that I never considered what should come next. It's funny how we forget those long-term things when we're kids. We forget that there's life after our dreams too.

But I won't let things get gloomy here, because I'm really happy we saw each other yesterday too. It's been too long, and I thought we were good friends back then. Even with how everything turned out, you were one of my favorite people.

Gin

Harry grins down at Gin's letter like a fool. It isn't the contents of the letter as much as the fact that it's there, that she's talking to him, or writing rather. But as he reads it a second and a third time, he realizes it's not just that the letter is there, it's what she said in the end, that he had been one of her favorite people, even with how they let each other go, let their relationship end. She had been one of his favorite people then, and it occurs to him that he's still more than fond of her now. So much so that before he realizes it, he's pulling a fresh sheet of paper out and sitting to respond to her letter, regardless of the fact that he should be going to bed. But then Hedwig nips at his knuckles before hopping to her cage and immediately going to sleep, and Harry realizes that if he writes this letter now, he'd want Hedwig to send it out tonight, and he should let her sleep.

He does let Hedwig sleep, putting his paper and pen away, but his thoughts keep going back to Gin, and this new sort of friendship they're forming, and it takes him far longer to fall asleep than his owl.

His imagination swings from memories of how they were to how things would be different now, and all this serves to tell him is first that he's going to be very tired in the morning and second that while he and Gin are becoming penpals, his mind doesn't think that's enough. His imagination can't unsee her from the day before, and it's really unfair to him that she had paused mid-word when he looked down because her lips were parted and he knows what it feels like to lean down when her lips are slightly parted and bring his lips to hers, slide his tongue across her bottom lip, and smirk when her breath catches before she nips on his lower lip and tells him to shut up and kiss her.

Harry gives himself a firm mental shake. How had he not realized he had never really moved on from Ginny? He tries to come up with the same sort of scenarios with the other women he's dated, and while he can bring them to mind, it's not nearly as easy as it is with Gin, and it certainly isn't bringing up the same...feelings.

Merlin, how did he never realize this before now?

The anxiety blossoms anew and Harry's now agonizing over what to do, because this could simply be his brain making the one that got away feel like more than it was. Things hadn't been all wonderful, he reminds himself. But another part of him argues that they'd been children. They'd even fought like children, over childish things. They're adults now, they've learned how to have a relationship, the give and take. Why wouldn't they work now?

On and on his mind spins as he tries to sleep, but it doesn't seem to come until nearly four in the morning and the few hours he gets are filled with dreams of Gin, dreams from their past, but also dreams that his brain creates from what he saw for that brief moment with her, how much she is no longer the sixteen-year-old girl that he held ten years ago.

In the morning he has to take a cold shower to snap himself out of it all.

How had they let it go? How had they let it slip away? How had they been so short-sighted?

Harry has no answers to these questions, and when he finishes his quick shower he knows there's no time for letter-writing before work. Which results in him being just as distracted as the day before and exhausted as well.

"I know it's Friday but would you please not mentally check out before we've finished up?" His dad laughs at him.

Harry groans, which turns into a yawn. James watches him before motioning them out of the protected room that allows them to cast all manner of spells and not accidentally destroy the building. Harry forces his eyes not to roll and follows after his dad.

"What's really going on, son?"

Harry rubs his eyes and tries to determine if he wants to bring his dad in on this or not. His gut reaction is no, but he could really use someone else's input because he's at the point where he's running circles in his head with no end in sight. Besides, he isn't a teenager anymore, he knows how to push away his more problematic feelings and ask for help.

"Harry?"

"Do you remember Ginny Weasley? Ron's little sister."

James nods, "You two dated your last year of Hogwarts."

"Well, I ran into her in London on Wednesday." Harry leans his shoulder up against the corridor wall and goes silent as he tries to figure out how to say this.

"And…?"

"And I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since." Harry stares at a random spot on the floor. "I thought it was because I'd never apologized for what a prat I was at seventeen and how I didn't treat her as well as I should have. So I wrote a short apology and sent it out. She responded and now we're becoming penpals or something, poor Hedwig has been out on the daily. But what's really bothering me is I'm starting to think that I never really moved on from Ginny when we called it off."

"What makes you think that?" James asks as he mirrors Harry's stance.

Harry presses his forehead into the wall, still struggling to make his thoughts align into words.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about her. It's been ten years but I can still pull up all those memories like they were yesterday. Nothing feels like time has passed, whereas every other ex it's hard to bring up those old memories, and there are holes in them, things that I don't quite remember how they happened. But not with Gin, I could probably make you something like Mum's movies right now if you have a Pensieve handy because none of it is fuzzy, it would play out with perfect clarity."

Harry turns back to look at his dad and finds his square-framed eyes looking back at him with mirth.

"So write to her and ask to meet up tomorrow."

"Her birthday is Sunday, I'm sure she has plans with her teammates."

Harry watches his dad's eyebrows rise up into the bits of gray starting to mark his black hair.

"You remember her birthday?"

Harry groans and pushes his forehead back into the wall.

"Alright, don't suggest the day, just tell her you'd like to meet up and ask when it works for her. But, son, if you still feel this way about her, you won't move on until you've been able to gain some closure, whether that's getting back together or finding out the two of you have grown too far apart to make anything work."

Harry glances back at his dad and lets the idea sit for a moment.

"Alright, I'll see if she's willing to meet up, but what do I do if she's not?"

James places his hand on Harry's shoulder, "Then you'll know it's time to move on and we'll go from there."

It sounds sort of terrifying, but the same argument Harry's been coming back to the last two days resurfaces - they aren't children anymore. He isn't a child, and he's not going to start things off with Gin this time around as the same scared and awkward seventeen-year-old specky git he was before. She deserved more then, and she certainly deserves more now.

"Well, at least I don't have to think about what the letter should say when I write it tonight."

"Good on you, mate," James pulls him into a quick hug. "Now, let's get this spell figured out so we can head out."

"Are the two of you still not done?" Sirius comes out of one of the other rooms.

"We're on it, Black," James waves the door open and gives Harry a gentle shove. "Come on, before the boss over there fires us."

The decision to ask Gin to meet up with him is what gets Harry through the workday, but when he finally sits down to write the note, there's a part of him that feels like a panicking seventeen-year-old again.

"Don't be a wanker," Harry kicks himself and forces his pen to write her name on the index card he's chosen to keep himself from getting long-winded.

Gin,

This letter writing, while I can't think of a better penpal, is a bit cumbersome, don't you think? Would you be willing to meet up sometime? I don't want to get in the way of any birthday plans but if you have time, I'd like to see you outside of crashing into you on the pavement.

Harry

He reads the note three times, trying to decide if he should actually respond to her letter or not before deciding he won't; he'd rather talk to her in person about everything in her letter. Before he can talk himself out of this, he ties the note to Hedwig's leg and watches her fly off into the sky, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon.

#harry and ginuary #gift fic #for the-words-in-my-haed-12 #hinny #hinny fanfic #harry and ginuary gift exchange #hinny fuff #no voldemort au #magical au #harry x ginny #harry potter x ginny weasley #romance #exes to lovers #second chances #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry potter fanfiction

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