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The old floorboards creaked under her bare feet. She stopped in front of an old cradle. Her pale fingers lightly skimmed the chipped face of the doll lying within. What was left of a rotted blanket covered the body of the doll. Chilled air danced around the abandoned building. An old sign hanging above the buildings only door rattled against the outer wall.
“Margret’s Home for Little Lost Souls” was barely visible on its surface. The woman looked around the small house. More cradles lined the home’s back wall. The remains of a faded blue rug sat in the center of the room, across which children’s blocks were scattered. A rusted wood stove sat to the woman’s left. A pile of worm-eaten wood that had once been a table lay in front of the stove. She walked across the floor and stopped by another cradle. She pushed away the fragile lace and looked down at the bleached skull within. A faint smile crossed her lips as she touched the bonnet adorned to the small skull.
The bottom of her ragged dress shifted around her knees as she walked over to an old music box atop an old dresser. A soft melody filled the stale air when she lifted the box’s metal lid. She continued to move through the single roomed home, stopping at an old grandfather clock, vases filled with petrified flowers, and the faded portraits of the lost souls that had once lived here. She came to a stop beside the skeletal remains of a bed at the back of the house. The music box twanged noisily and fell silent. The woman headed for the door. She pulled on her hood as she stepped onto the marshes cold ground. She darted behind the building and faded into the shadows.
Footsteps echoed through the dead landscape. The woman peered out from behind a nearby tree. A man walked on the overgrown path. He looked up at the faded sign. The woman moved farther away from the tree, intrigued by the stranger in her empty world. The man turned away from the home of lost souls. Surprise crossed his face when he spotted the hooded figure in red. The woman turned and fled as he moved toward her.
“Hey, wait!” the man called.
She could hear his clumsy footsteps behind her as she ran. What little sunlight penetrated the black sky glimmered off the dark-watered pond ahead of the woman. A smile crossed her lips. Her bare feet sank into the mud and water.
The man stopped at the water’s muddy edge. The woman was gone. A thick fog rolled over the water’s surface. In the distance he could hear a music box playing.
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The woman sat on the stone archway that hung above the crumbling bridge. She gazed out at the town that had been swallowed by the swamp. The empty shells of cottages stood within the black water and dead trees as if it belonged. a town that had become lost to the ages and forgotten by those that still lived.
Nails scraped against stone. The woman looked down. The tangle of beads and bone around her neck jingled softly. The beast below looked up at her, saliva hanging from its thick black lips. A long pink tongue rolled over sharp fangs. Beady yellow eyes glowed in the fading sunlight. It cocked a slender ear when she waved down at it. The beast huffed and continued on its way. The woman stared out at the town once more, when an ominous howl came from behind her. She looked back at the beast as it bounded off into the forest.
The land grew quiet once more. The woman jumped from her perch and landed soundlessly on the bridge. She walked down the path that led toward the town. Iron cages hung from the trees. Some still contained the bodies of innocents, now stripped of flesh and life.
She could still feel their pain as she passed under them. She picked up a small bone and examined it. She looked up at the skeletons in the overhanging cage. Bones wrapped in a rotting dress clung to a smaller skeleton that sat in its lap. The woman laced the child’s skinless finger into her necklace and began walking.
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A man entered the desolate town, his hand gripping the hilt of a sword sheathed on his side. He had been chased from his path by a beast hidden in shadow. A soft wordless melody drifted toward him from the center of town. The eerie lullaby beckoned him. The man treaded through the ankle deep water that filled the center of the town. He moved, feeling hypnotized by the strange song. The woman in red stood in the doorway of one of the houses. Her back was turned toward him. She turned slightly. Locks of long brown hair fell from her hood. Her face was concealed in shadow. She moved into the house, the rotted door shut behind her. The man pushed strands of blonde hair away from his face and went up to the house. He could still hear the woman singing. The warped wood bit into his palm as he pushed open the door. He looked around the small kitchen. He moved toward the stairs and cautiously began to ascend. A broken bed stood in the center of the only second floor room and a mirror stood against the far wall. Its surface was spotless, as if time had never touched it. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end.
The singing abruptly stopped when he neared the mirror. The corners of the glass were covered in ice. The man could see a snow covered pathway within the mirror. He lightly touched the glass. His fingers passed through its surface. The man jumped back, his foot caught on a loose floorboard. He fell back against the bed. It snapped under his weight. With a groan he pulled himself free from the mass of splintered wood and molded straw. A woman’s soft laughter filled the room. His face burned red. He walked back over to the mirror. With a deep breath, he stepped through it and into a serene landscape.
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Lamps lit the way as the man walked down the snowy path. A small cottage stood at the end of it. Warmth glowed from the home’s open windows. The front door opened, a woman in a thick blue dress stood in the bright doorway, beckoning him inside. Her red hair was piled on the top of her head. A smile crossed her gentle face at the sight of the young traveler walking toward her home. The man could feel the warmth from the fireplace within. He began to jog toward her.
He skidded to a stop, his feet sliding out from under him in the snow. The woman let out a blood-curdling scream. A sword tore through her chest and warm blood splattered onto the snow. The woman changed into the hooded figure before disappearing. The warm scene evaporated, the lights vanished. In their place was a rundown cottage, void of life. A skeleton lay at the cottage’s entrance. More laughter drifted from the interior of the decaying home.
The man stood up, his body shaking. He cautiously entered the building. More skeletons sat at an old kitchen table by the door. He stepped over pieces of broken glass and pottery. Another mirror stood beside the fireplace. He walked through it and into a clearing drenched in twilight. A massive tree stood before him. The woman in red stood under it, her tattered dress blowing in the cool breeze.
The man walked toward her with his sword drawn. The tall grass clung to his pant legs as he moved toward the strange figure. Shadows washed over her and disappeared, leaving her bathed in silver moonlight. The man stopped in front of her, confused. The figure’s stone hands were clasped together, as if it were praying. He ran a hand over the delicate face carved in stone.
“Things in this world are never what they seem,” A female voice rasped.
“Where are you!” the man called. A taunting laugh answered him.
The man cried out in frustration and swung his sword at the statue, sending its hooded head to the ground. A woman’s scream blew on the breeze. The statue crumbled. He walked around the tree. The world dropped away into an endless black.
“Don’t fall.”
He turned, the woman in red stood behind him. Silver eyes looked up at him from beneath the hood. With a smirk, she pushed him. He reeled back and tried to grab onto her. He pulled off her necklace and fell into the darkness.
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The man opened his eyes. He was back in the center of the town. Murky water washed over his body. He slowly sat up, dazed. He stood and grabbed his sword. A low growl came from in front of him. Two beady eyes glared at him from the head of a wolf. The beast moved closer. It bared needle-like fangs. Wood cracked and splinted beside him. Another pair of eyes watched him from the side of a nearby house. Water splashed as a third creature circled around him. The one in front of him pricked its ears. Saliva dripped from its open mouth. The beast behind him growled. The man’s blood ran cold. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The beast’s ears flattened. A growl rippled in its throat.
The creature on the house jumped at him. Curved claws stretched toward him. He dropped to the ground. He could feel the beast’s coarse fur against his neck as it soared over him. The man began to run. The beasts gave chase. A massive body slammed against him, sending him through the doorway of a house. He landed on his stomach with the creature on his back. Its claws were buried in the wooden floor. Elongated jaws snapped at him as it tried to free itself. He twisted himself around and buried his sword deep into is soft belly. He crawled out from under the beast as another broke through the wall beside him. It towered over him as it stood on two powerful legs. Steam rolled from its nostrils as it watched him. Stretched arms hung from hunched shoulders. Floorboards groaned above them as the final beast clambered over the age distorted wood. The beast in front of him gave a gurgled laugh. It ran its claws over the back of an old chair. The floorboards beneath them sagged as the final beast joined them. The one before him launched the chair at him. The man cut it in two with a clean sweep of his sword. The beast grabbed him by the shoulder before the severed chair hit the ground.
It spat blood and crumpled to the floor. The man pulled his sword free from its ribcage. The remaining beast bared its fangs in a silent snarl. It backed away slowly and disappeared into the shadows. The man walked out of the house. Something shimmered in the water. He picked up a mass of twine, bead, and bone from the water. He retrieved his bag from the water and stuffed the necklace inside. He removed a wad of cloth bandages from the soaking bag. He wrapped his wounded shoulders and exited the town.
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The woman sat on the rug in the center of the Home for Lost Souls. Childs laughter washed over her. Spectral figures danced around the small room as the music box played. The woman cradled the frail white form of an infant. It cooed softly as she rocked it back and forth. A faint smile crossed her grey lips. Floorboards whined. The woman looked up.
The lone traveler stood in the doorway, his shoulders and arms covered in bandages. The music box stopped.
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He looked down at the woman sitting in the center of the empty orphanage, cradling the bones of a child. He could see her glowing eyes under her crimson hood. She gently put the skeleton down and stood. She clasped her hands at her breast. The strange song left her lips. She held a hand out to him, her pale palm facing the ceiling. He could see her chipped and broken nails. The room grew cold. A thick fog swirled around him.
Something tugged at his pants leg. A translucent hand gripped his pants. A girl no more than five stared up at him. Other children stood in the fog around him. He looked up at the woman. She had vanished, a mirror standing in her place.
“Don’t go,” the girl cried in a fading voice.
He tried to push the child away but his hand passed through her. He moved closer to the mirror. The children moved closer to him. The room was lost in the fog.
“You’ll be lost like us,” a boy called, his voice grew into a rasp with each word.
The man touched the mirror’s face, his hand disappearing through it. He pushed through the mirror. Fresh grass crunched beneath him. A bright sun glowed overhead. He looked back at the freshly painted building. A bright sign hung over the buildings door. “Margret’s Home for Little Lost Souls” was written on it in blue. He turned back to the dirt path that led down a large hill. He followed the path absentmindedly as unseen birds chirped around him. At the base of the hill stood a massive farm. Cornfields flanked him as he walked up to the large red barn, where Horses stood. They watched him from their stalls.
The woman’s hysterical laughter pierced the calmness of the farm. The sun vanished, plunging the land in momentary darkness. Fire sprang up around him. The horses lay dead and rotting on the barns straw covered floor. Screams erupted from the fields. The woman continued to laugh. The man looked up at the figure standing atop the barn. The woman in red took a step and fell from the burning roof. The rope around her neck grew taut, the laughter stopped. Her body burst into a flock of laughing crows that vanished into the sky. The noose swayed from the roof. The man backed away in horror, His heart pounded in his chest.
“Don’t be afraid. Your soul is not among there’s, yet.” The woman rasped.
The woman stood within the barn, a smile on her beautiful face. She held her arms out to him, as if waiting for an embrace. A horse jumped up from the ground. Its rotting form ran past him. The other horse’s follower suit, each little more than bone.
“Come to me. I can make it all go away.”
He took another step back, shaking his head. The man sprinted to the farmhouse. He burst through the front door. His eyes desperately searched for an exit. The world outside the farmhouse faded into darkness. Twisted bodies formed out of the ground. Distorted faces looked up at him as their arms reached out to him. A mirror lay on the ground a few feet away. The man hacked away at the bodies blocking his way. With each swing of his sword, he grew closer to the glowing mirror. The woman appeared behind the mirror, her head tilted to the side.
“You can never escape. Your soul belongs to me now,” she said with a cynical smile.
The man cried out in anger and ran at her. He grabbed her by the shoulder and plunged cold steel into her stomach. She began to laugh like a mad woman and shattered like glass. The house around him began to crumble. He hurriedly stepped into the mirror, his feet sinking into the moist earth. A sign fixed to a nearby tree read, “Heathbane.” An arrow pointing west was painted beneath. The man fished in his bag and pulled out the necklace. He let it slip through his fingers as he walked in the direction of the town called Heathbane.
Pale fingers plucked the necklace from the mud. The woman retied it around her neck. Silver eyes watched the traveler walk away. She turned and walked in the direction of her own home. Beasts followed her in the nearby trees.
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The man entered the grime-covered town of Heathbane. Whores whistled at him from alleyway s. Drunks stumbled past him as he made his way through the crowd. People watched him with suspicious eyes. He entered the local tavern and sat down at a vacant table.
“It’s rare to see a new face around here,” a barmaid hollered over the noisy crowd.
She handed him a mug of ale, a smile on her thick face. The man smiled up at her.
“So what’s your name ,stranger?”
“Derek,” the man replied.
“So what brings you to our little port town? Work or riches?”
“Neither. I find quicker routes between towns and sketch out maps.”
“Sounds like fun,” the woman laughed.
“Barb, get back to work!” the bartender hollered.
The barmaid turned, her hands went to her large hips. “I am working. I am taking care of a new feller. All these other bums come in here and sit on their asses everyday of the week and for once we have a man that’s never been here before. So don’t tell me to get back to work,” the woman hollered back. She threw a dishtowel at the man’s head and turned back to Derek. She pinched his cheek. A man from the table behind Derek leaned back and grabbed his shoulder.
“So where’d you come from anyways? The only way into this town is by boat and I didn’t see you step off the docks.”
Derek cringed away from the man’s sour breath. “I came from the marsh. I traveled from Valenwood. The mayor hired me to find a quicker route to this town. “
The bar grew silent. Barb backed away from him and the man let go of his arm.
“Did you get those wounds from the marsh?” The man asked in a quiet voice. Derek nodded, confused.
“Get out,” Barb hissed. She pointed a trembling finger toward the door. Derek stood, everyone was staring at him.
“A man can only get marks like that from a wolf,” the man said gravely. He ran a boney finger through his beard.
“I don’t see why you people are acting like this. I’m fine.”
“You’ve been cursed,” Barb stammered.
Derek gave a skeptic laugh.
“You belong to her now,” the man sighed.
“Who?” Derek ran a hand through his hair, still confused.
“The banshee,” the man replied around a swig of ale.
“What, that woman in the marsh? I killed her.”
The man laughed, “You can’t kill her, you fool. You can’t kill something that’s already dead.”
Derek pressed his fingers to his temple. “What does any of this have to do with a few scratches from some wolf?”
“The banshee controls those beasts. She sends them after people, makes it easier for her to take your soul. The beast bites you and she ‘saves you.’ The empty shell of a creature runs about like her lapdog once she’s got your soul.”
“This is all nonsense. You people are insane.” Derek pushed his way through the growing crowd. He moved out onto the street. The street had grown silent. Those around him moved out of his way. The women in the alley huddled together, giggling. In a matter of minutes, he had gone from a stranger to a monster. The town crier stood at an open doorway. He came over to Derek and blocked his path.
“When night falls you will turn. By day you will look human, but your humanity will begin to fade. When she gets a hold of you, you will no longer change. Your humanity will leave your body as soon as your soul is taken,” the man whispered. Derek ignored him and continued walking out of the town.
“Listen to me boy-”
Derek whirled around and grabbed the man by the shoulders. “You listen to me. I have encountered that banshee and every time I have I’ve been sent to places. Placed I can’t even explain. The only time I was ever attacked by those things was when I escaped.”
He let go of the man who began to laugh. “You didn’t go anywhere. You fell under her spell, just like so many others that had wandered into the marsh. It’s how she keeps her prey still while she sends her pets for them.” The man shook his head sadly. Derek walked away. He reentered the marshlands.
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The woman sat on the edge of the stone bridge. A large beast moved up beside her. It whined and nudged her hand. She scratched it behind the ears. It lifted up a large hand to her. Its fingers uncurled to reveal a marble. The woman kissed the side of its face and took the marble. She placed the little gem into the satchel that tied around her slim waist. The beast leaned against her. She laughed quietly and began to pet it. Another wolf lay on the ground below the bridge. Others moved around them, hidden in the shadows. She stopped petting the creature. Its ears flattened against its skull, a growl forming in its throat.
“He belongs to this world now.”
The beast looked at her. It moved away with a sigh. The woman stood and jumped from the bridge. She faded into a forming fog.
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Derek walked back to the old town. He made camp in the house closest to the road. Pain seared through his body as night fell. He sat beside the small fire burning within a crumbling fireplace. His breathing became ragged. Sharp cracks ran through his body as bone rearranged itself. Derek fell back, biting back a cry of pain as his body elongated. Coarse tan fur covered his new frame. Yellow-blue eyes searched around the house. He walked awkwardly on four slender legs. He left his makeshift camp. New scents and sounds filled his head. The musk of the dead land overwhelmed him. He could hear fellow creatures howling in the distance.
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“You’re treating them well,” a female voice remarked. Its pitch fading in and out.
The banshee looked at the spectral figure that stood beside her.
“I told you I would.”
The specter smiled.
The banshee returned the smile. “You know I don’t like to see humans suffer.”
The specter’s smile faded. “If that’s true then why didn’t you help us?”
Silver eyes met the spirit’s pale gaze. “I couldn’t.”
The specter vanished. The banshee turned toward the light colored wolf that stood a few feet away. Mixed eyes stared at her, glowing with malice. She curtsied and turned away from it. She walked over to the bridge. The wolf followed her. Yellow eyes watched him approach from the archways above. His ears flattened at the sight of them. They smelled like him, only wrapped in death and rot. The woman stood at the center of the bridge. The beasts moved around her as Derek moved closer. The woman opened her arms. Derek stopped moving, his hair stood on end.
“I can make your pain go away,” she cooed.
Derek backed away, as a thick fog began circling the woman. Pale figures danced around her. Invisible fingers passed through his fur, pushing him toward the woman.
“You mean nothing to this world. They only see you as a monster,” the banshee rasped.
The marsh disappeared in the fog. She smiled at him and took a step closer. Derek growled at her, white teeth bared. Her smile faltered. The woman clasped her hands in front of her and began to sing. Voices drifted around Derek, ushering him toward the woman.
“You’re already lost.”
“Follow her.”
The song pulled at him. The woman vanished into the fog. He wandered further into the white shroud, searching for her. He stopped beside a puddle. The singing came from within. He stepped into it.
Derek stood in the center of a grassy field. A stone bridge sat ahead of him. On the other side of the bridge stood a windmill, its bright sails stood out against the thicket of trees behind it.
Derek's white skin glistened under the warm sun. The woman sat on the edge of the bridge, staring down into the creek. She pulled her hood down and looked up at the sky. Derek walked through the waist high grass. He hesitated at the bridge. The woman looked at him and smiled. She jumped down into the water and darted under the bridge. Derek ran to the other side, trying to block her escape. A flock of crows burst from under the bridge. The woman’s cold laughter filled the air as the birds disappeared like smoke.
A music box melody drifted from within the windmill. He followed the soft song but stopped at the structure’s entrance. He inhaled deeply and stepped through the doorway. He stood on a fading blue rug and faced a wall lined with cradles. The woman sat on a rocking chair. She raised a finger to her lips. A sleeping infant cradled in the crook of her arm. She carefully stood and placed the sleeping child into its cradle. She faced Derek. “They were such sweet little things. It saddens me to think that they will never awaken.”
The room changed, wood rotting as dull colors faded to grey. The woman vanished as the music box came to a shuttering halt. Derek moved over to the cradle. Inside lay a bleached skull with a bonnet tied around its small chin. He jumped back and fell through the open doorway. He landed on his elbows in the dirt. He stared into the windmill’s normal interior. With a shaky laugh he looked up at the turning blades. He slowly stood and headed back to the bridge. The woman appeared in front of him. She walked past him and stepped into the shallow creek. She looked back at him but continued walking. Derek chased after her. The woman walked past the edge of a pond and sat at the base of a praying statue under an aged oak.
Derek jogged up beside her, his body slick with sweat. He pushed damp locks of hair away from his face.
“What do you want from me?”
She shrugged, “Who ever said I wanted anything from you?”
She moved out from under the tree.
“Where am I?” Derek moved in front of her.
“In my stolen memories.”
She moved around him. A smile stretched across her face but her eyes filled with sorrow.”I only bring you here so I can save you.”
“Save me from what? All of the things that have happened to me are because of you. I-I’ve been attacked by God knows what and now I’m turning into one!” He grabbed her by shoulders and shook her violently. “You do nothing but kill people.”
Her face was blank. She tilted her head to the side.”Do you believe in god?”
Derek blinked, “What?”
“You referred to god. Do you believe in him?”
“I guess I do. What does this have to do with anything?”
“Do you think your god will save you?”
Derek let go of her, his anger returning. “You are a freak, a monster that should never have been allowed to live.”
“I free lost souls from a frail body. I let them live on in a peaceful state. I do more for humanity than your god ever will.”
Derek gave a skeptic laugh.
“You suck the life out of them,” he spat.
“I take their life force in order to preserve my own, but I allow the soul to live on in this place.” She motioned to the land around them.
“We are the only ones here.” He moved closer to her and pushed her to the ground.
“Maybe you’re just blind,” she smiled up at him.
“I’m sick of your games.” Derek raised a hand as if to strike her. The woman cringed, her arm moved in front of her face.
“You’re still among the living. Only the dead can see one another.” She said with a shuddering breath.
Derek let his hand fall to his side. The banshee sat on the ground. Her mournful eyes never left him. He held his hand out to her. She accepted it and stood. She dusted off her tattered dress and took a step onto the water. She seemed almost weightless as she walked on the water’s surface. Derek hesitantly followed her. His feet lightly touched the shifting water as he followed her to the center of the pond. She turned to him. With a smile, she pushed Derek. He fell into the water. He pulled his head above the surface, coughing and sputtering. He looked toward the muddy shore, but the banshee was gone. A lone horse stood under the tree, grazing. Derek got out of the water. He touched the horses flank, it raised its head. Empty eye sockets stared at him from a yellowing skull. Derek jumped away from it. The horse crumbled into a pile of bone. The world erupted in a blaze of fire. Derek turned back to the windmill. Its sails continued to turn even as they burned. People ran through the field. Shadows chased after them and cut them down. Derek ran back to the bridge and ducked under it. He peered out from the shadowed underbelly of the stonework. The banshee stood in the field, cradling an infant. She was staring at it lovingly as she hummed a soft lullaby. Her head turned toward Derek. A shadow formed in front of her. A sword was thrust into her. She fell to the ground. The infant began to wail. The shadow picked up the child and laughed. Derek turned away, but he could still hear the child’s cry as the shadow snuffed out the young life. He looked back just as the shadow spotted him. Hellish eyes glowed as it moved toward him. Derek began to run. He spotted a mirror hanging from a burning tree. He jumped through it and found himself standing in the Home for Little Lost Souls.
An older woman was trying to calm a group of crying children. A small boy clung to her. He buried his face in her chest and she tried to console him. The door was forced open. A group of shadows entered the small building. Two dragged the now screaming woman and boy away. The others moved toward the children with unsheathed swords. The children screamed as their throats were slit by the merciless shades. One shadow moved over to Derek and forced him out of the home. He carefully stepped over the small bodies that littered the floor. Infants cried in their cradles as the shadows dragged Derek away.
The shadows forced the remaining townsfolk into iron cages as the town burned around them. The older woman clung to the boy as she was put into a cage. The boy’s body hung limp in her quivering arms. A blade was placed against Derek's neck. Cold steel bit into his flesh. He could feel his warm blood run down his chest. He fell to the ground and closed his eyes.
Derek reopened his eyes. He was sitting by the fireplace in his makeshift campsite. He dressed and left the house. He wandered aimlessly through the ruined town. He entered an old tavern. Rotting tables and chairs sat before the old bar. He picked up grime covered bottles, looking for anything drinkable. Glass crunched behind him. One of the banshee’s pets stood behind him. Large yellow eyes were fixed on the blue bottle in his hand. He gently set the bottle down on the bar counter. The beast moved beside him and carefully lifted the bottle. It sniffed at the contents inside of it and growled. It poured out the foul black liquid and ambled away with the bottle in hand. Derek followed the creature. Whenever he neared the beast it growled softly. The beast trotted down the fading path that led away from town. Derek followed but made certain to stay at a distance. They treaded over rocky hills covered in black moss that had once been fields. They came to a pond. A crumbling statue sat under a dead tree beside the pond. The crumbling statue’s head had been replaced by that of a doll. A crudely built shack sat behind the pond. The beast walked through the old carriage that made up the front of the structure.
The banshee sat within the shack on a rocking chair. Bits of colored glass lined the walls of the home. The overhanging chandelier made the colored bottles, marbles, and other odds and ends shine like precious jewels. The beast handed her the bottle. She kissed its head and placed the bottle on a shelf above her. Pieces of bone hung from the chandelier and over a water bloated cot that lay in a corner. Children’s toys lay scattered on the dirt floor. The creature crushed them as he moved over to the cot. The banshee’s large eyes fell on Derek.
“Why do you come here?”
Derek shrugged, “Better to kill you in a confined space then out in the marsh.”
The banshee sighed, “Why do you insist on killing me?”
“A monster is a monster now matter how sad a story it can spin.”
Derek turned the blade in his hand. The beast growled but did not move toward him. The banshee’s eyes grew brighter. The air around them grew cold. The banshee levitated off the ground, sweeping her hands forward. Derek was hurled out of the shack. He landed on the pond’s shore. The woman floated above the water. A thick white fog began to cover the ground. White orbs circled Derek and formed into the pale bodies of children.
“They tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen,” she rasped.
The children latched onto Derek, translucent fangs digging into his soft flesh. He tried to push them off but his hands swept through them. The banshee wailed as Derek dropped his sword to cover his ears in an attempt to block out the sound. The woman disappeared into the water, the wailing stopped. The ground beneath him erupted. A shower of earth and rock fell down upon Derek. The ghost children faded as the banshee reappeared. Derek grabbed his sword and ran at the serene figure. She began to sing. Derek grabbed her by the throat and drove his sword through her chest. The singing turned to hysterical laughter. She moved away from him and slowly pulled the sword free. She tossed it aside and pointed a slender finger at him.
“You have made your choice. I offered you salvation and you spat in my face. Unlike you, I am a forgiving creature and will always be here. If your mind changes I will come find you.”
She faded into the fog. The fog dissipated, Derek was alone.
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Night washed over Derek once more as he wandered through the marsh. His body began to change. The pain had intensified from the night before. He could feel his grasp on humanity slipping away as the beast overcame him. The banshee’s haunting melody never found him. For days, he was left to suffer, growing with each passing day. A week had passed, and the banshee still had not returned.
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The sun crept over the horizon. Derek’s form reverted to its human state. He collapsed on his side, pain overcame him once more. A cold hand passed through his damp hair. Cloth skimmed over his back as the woman sat beside him. Derek looked up at the strange silver eyes that gazed down at him, the same eyes that always seemed to be filled with a never-ending sorrow. She placed her hand on his shoulder and the pain faded. She sighed softly.
“Please-“
She placed a finger to his lips. A faint smile tugged at her lips. She pulled him to her chest and kissed his forehead. She began to sing. Derek closed his eyes. When he opened them he was in a small outcrop of trees. Sunlight filtered through the thick green canopy overhead. He walked through the trees and stepped onto a dirt path. The orphanage stood across from him. A massive farm loomed in the distance on his left. To the right he could see the windmill and smoke from the chimneys of a nearby town. The woman walked out of the Home of Little Lost Souls.
“Why could I see people the last time I was here?”
“You saw a memory.”
Her eyes drifted toward the town.
“The children told me that if I followed you I would become lost,” he said as he grabbed her hand. She turned back to him and smiled.
“They were right.”
She kissed him lightly and pulled away. She walked in the direction of the town. Derek followed after her. She pulled off her hood as she walked. Derek slowed when they passed the windmill.
“There is nothing in there,” the banshee called.
Derek’s attention snapped back to her. He ran to her side.
“Do you have a name?” He asked as he grabbed her hand again.
She stopped walking.
“No,” she said in a blank tone. She pulled her hand free and continued walking.
“Everyone has a name.”
She spun around. “Monsters don’t have names.” Agitation bit into her words. She turned away from him and began walking faster.
“In stories that I read as a kid they said that banshees were once human and that they were created from the tortured soul of a heartbroken women. If that’s true, then you had a name at one point in time.”
“Those stories are a lie,” she murmured.
Derek’s gaze fell to the ground. A light breeze blew past him. Derek looked up and saw that he was alone. He walked into the town and searched the homes for clothing. A house near the center of town had what he was looking for. After dressing, he left the house. The banshee was sitting on the edge of the well that stood in the center of the town. Her knees were drawn up to her chest. Derek sat down beside her.
“I used to live here. I died along with the rest of this town. I don’t remember my name.” She buried her head in her knees. Derek wrapped his arm around her frail shoulders. She shrugged him off. With a heavy sigh she pulled herself together. Her eyes glowed in the waning sunlight.
“Time for you to wake up.”
She pushed Derek back into the well.
Derek’s eyes snapped open. A coarse blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. The woman still held him in her arms. Her singing faded. Derek looked up into the fading sunlight with fearful eyes. The woman pushed a loose strand of hair away from his face.
Pain ran through his body as the banshee began to sing. Her song was different than before. She inhaled deeply. A white mist covered Derek’s body. It pulled away from him and entered the banshee. His body went limp. The banshee stood as his body shifted. Tan fur became black and blue flecked eyes turned gold. The beast shook itself and stood. It nuzzled the banshee and trotted away.
♣♥♠♥♠♥♠♥♠♣
The banshee sat atop the archway, gazing out at the remains of the old town. A spectral hand enclosed hers. She looked up into the figure’s blue eyes and smiled. Pale lips fell upon hers and faded away. The banshee’s pets wandered below. She quietly sang as she gazed at a town forever lost.
- by Patchwork_Heaven |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 06/02/2010 |
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- Title: Melody of the Lost, full story
- Artist: Patchwork_Heaven
-
Description:
i'm just going to go ahead and put up the entire story. sorry for the spelling errors and what not but english is not my strongest language.
- Date: 06/02/2010
- Tags: melody lost full story
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