Warning: Various Unpleasantries Ahead. If you do not want to get spooked, find a story other than this one.
Suggested songs included to set the mood. Happy Halloween.
====================Siren – New Translation OST – The Vision====================
The trip was rocky, the prisoner trapped in darkness as the coffin careened down the side of the cliff, throwing her around in the enclosed space, until at last she hit the base, slamming violently against the roof as the deep snow ground on stone, until at last the momentum dissipated, and she ground to a stop.
All was quiet for a few minutes, until she got the energy to push the roof of the coffin away, the slab landing roughly in the snow alongside her, the figure blinded by the intense rays of light, after being trapped in the claustrophobic vessel for so long.
As she blinked the pain from her eyes, she finally got up, taking the basic spear they had given her from the capsule, noticing how many others were joining her, their coffins falling open with a thud as they got their bearings. It didn't matter who they were, really, they were all prisoners, now exiles in this forsaken land.
Eleum Loyce loomed high above, upon the great cliff-face, its shadow cast over the rolling plains of snow on the barren tundra, where once lush trees and green fields had petrified and crumbled to dust long ago. This was the fate of all exiles: to receive just enough equipment to survive the cold and protect themselves from basic threats, other exiles, hollows, that sort of thing, but other than that they were left to fend for themselves, and find a way out. In a large group, they had pretty good chances despite the minimal protection.
Still, Amy couldn't help but wonder what the others had done to warrant being sent away. Were they murderers? Thieves? Rapists? Slanderers, heretics, and vagabonds?
Well, it didn't really matter in the end, they were all just exiles, now, their eyes traveling to one another, no doubt thinking the same thing as her: would I rather have a murderer, a thief, a rapist, a slanderer, a heretic, or a vagabond to watch my back as I find my way out of here? If everyone stayed together, they would likely be paired with all of the above, since only the filthiest criminals were exiled, rather than simply beheaded.
It started out with small talk, everyone getting their bearings, talking amongst themselves, determining who would do what. They had no food or water, so they would need to hunt for them on their own, out in the wastes. The conditions were very harsh, definitely not meant to be easily survivable, but they weren't too worried.
It was clear, and cloudless, the sun high in the sky, all they had to do was put Eleum Loyce behind them and walk away, until they found a new land to settle in. This banishment was little more than a setback, though Amy would miss the hearth at the knight's hall, they served the best mead, she smirked.
In the end they got organized and began the trek into the snowy tundra, Amy quickly noticing how hard it was to move around, her feet dragging heavily in the thick, ivory turf, everyone else looking not much better as they trudged along, her feet sinking in the fresh powder no matter how hard she tried to lift them.
This went on for hours, until people started saying they felt thirsty, with the strain. The thought made Amy's mouth water as they had burned a considerable amount of energy, the drifts dragging them down and the intense cold starting to burn her face. She would love a drink, now.
As she focused on her thirst, she looked around for some sort of lake, or spring, since they could break through even if it was frozen over. When they scouted, though, they collectively realized they couldn't see. The sun shone on the covering of ice so brightly, with no shade to dissipate it, it was literally burning them, Amy's tears starting to freeze at the edges of her eyes while the flair of a corona overtook her vision.
Dear Gods, this was getting miserable. Eventually they settled down for a rest, sinking into the drifts, and looking around. They couldn't see a single landmark, other than Eleum Loyce, a dot on the horizon off behind them. It was… disorienting to say the least, most of the exiles starting to wonder what they would do when it disappeared, since, disturbingly, even with the landmark their footprints swept all over the plain.
Walking was hard enough without the inability to hold a straight line, each twist adding extra time and energy they didn't have to give. She started to see some of the others eating the snow around them, since it was settled so deep for so long, it was perfectly pure. She gave in and did it herself, crushing a ball in her hands with a hollow crunch and biting into it, like an apple, relieved as it melted on her tongue, allowing her to enjoy the feeling of water entering her system.
They all gorged, grateful from the gesture of eating and hydration. But, after a few minutes, Amy started trembling, her eyes tearing uncontrollably and freezing painfully to her face, a numbness settling in. When she pulled off her glove and inspected her hand, the flesh went numb in an instant, but she still saw how pale her hands were getting within her gloves even before they were exposed to the air. She saw the others were no better, coughing and turning a stark grey, with violet hues settling at the edges, Amy realizing she had to look about the same.
With a start, Amy spat the last clump of melting frost from her mouth. Eating the snow was quenching her thirst, but, it was dropping her body temperature too fast, she would catch hypothermia before she averted dehydration.
Their only source of water was killing them. They all stood up, even more depleted than before, and begun to flee as fast as they could. They needed to find a good supply. It was known to them this was a forest, before the bitch in the cathedral froze the land, a forest that had several outposts and residents to keep an eye on the surrounding lands.
They had to be here, somewhere. How large could this plane possibly be?
They continued on, time starting to blur, as they didn't even know what hour it was, though the sun was starting to set on the horizon, darkness creeping in on them. Amy felt worn, trying to keep her pained eyes focused, an unwelcome feeling crossing her face.
The wind had picked up a bit, the party shaking off the cold spike, but as they continued on, it blew harder and harder, until they could hear it whistling intensely, as though the distant mountains were shouting at them, the loose powder peeling off the drifts and sweeping around her feet in a cloud.
Eleum Loyce was on the high ground, protected by its walls, and the winds. But, this was the low ground, at the tail end of a canyon. They prayed the tunnel wouldn't direct too much wind, but, they had no such grace as it picked up, stronger and stronger, until Amy had to brace herself just to keep from falling off her feet, the mist getting thicker, until they were plunged into darkness.
====================Peder Helland – Ominous Wind====================
They had been a little nervous as things went south, but as visibility approached zero, the exiles were starting to feel a very distinct fear. They had heard plenty of details, intimate details, of the Chaos, and had always seen winter as a period of calm, the frost that tames the flame, long enough for everything to go still and get a fresh start.
Now, it seemed like that was very much the opposite case, with the flame being a guiding light while this snowy field was hell. They didn't have a torch, and even if they did the winds were too strong to sustain it for long, the cold starting to get to them. Amy begun to list side to side, shaking herself awake each time she faded, her eyes so sore she could barely hold them open as they dried up in her puffy face, her eyelashes encased in ice from her own tears, which dug at her bloodshot whites, though she couldn't see anything anyway: just an endless, solid sheet of grey.
She swore she spotted shadows in the gloom, though she was getting so tired it was hard to tell, anymore. Where were they, again? With nothing to go by, she felt very, very lost, each person following the one directly ahead of them, since it was the only thing they could see anyway.
No, they couldn't get lost. They had nothing to sustain themselves out here, if they got lost…
She shook the thoughts from her head. They spared an execution for a reason, they wanted her to suffer, but, this plane of ice had to end, somewhere, eventually. Amy was not delicate, she could not be so easily dissuaded by a simple dusting of water.
They wandered in darkness, unbroken by anything, save for the sound of their own feet. Then, she heard a sound, above the roar of the wind-
What is that? It was too quiet to discern at first, but she held her focus on it, straying to the side a few times. It grew louder, and louder, approaching them.
What is that? It became clear: the sound of something hard, and hollow, hitting the snow in a rhythmic beat: pa pa pun, pa pa pun, pa pa pun-
What is that? She starred into the endless sheets, a strong feeling of vertigo clouding her as she felt displaced-
Which made it all the more startling when a great, dark figure shot from the cloud, its great roar sending a massive bolt of adrenaline up her spine. It looked like a very tall, scrawny horse, only its body was crystalline, and it had great, jagged horns, horns that rammed the side of one of the warriors, tearing into his flesh and sending him to the ground.
The snow turned red, his scream piercing the air, only to be silenced as it reared up and stomped down hard, crushing him, its body shaking as it pranced on his corpse, mangling him beyond recognition. All the exiles ran on it at once, including Amy, driven by some force beyond her, her spear in her numb hands.
It swept its horns hard to the side, the force great enough to knock the hardened criminals of their feet, it's feet coming up again and crashing down, lightning arching from the tips of the hooves-
She halted, the snow lighting up as it was melted and electrified at once, the exiles convulsing and crying out as they were cooked alive, their eyes popping as their flesh reddened and smoldered. Amy collapsed, crying out as one of the sparks lanced her foot, though she was just far enough away to evade getting fully electrocuted, struggling to her feet with the help of her spear and running as fast as she could, limping hard on her ankle.
She dared not look back, following the hazy silhouettes of the other exiles, though she had no bearings, the sheets of snow continuing to blind her. As she ran along, another dark shape dropped from the sky, lightning arching off his horns as it's frozen mane shook and rattled, it's feet coming back to kick a weary exile, crushing his ribcage and leaving blood pouring from his mouth.
Two!? Then a third ran from the side. Three? How many of them were there? How many were hiding? Amy ran without even looking for the others, the pounding of hoofs shaking her to the core, fearing at any moment one of them would swoop in from the dark.
She ran until she rammed into a broad shape, crashing into the surface and bouncing off, looking up the side of the brick wall. Someone screamed for her, Amy getting up from the snow and running for the voice, finding herself near a doorway, and diving inside.
The next part happened so fast it became nothing but white noise, but she knew she could see again, a great door getting slammed shut, chains rattling as massive irons were locked down, people screaming and throwing all they could in the way, before it was silent again.
====================Fallout Dungeon 4 (Dunwich Forsaken Ruins)===================
All at once, Amy found herself inside a large structure, alongside some others. It was a rough third of the group, the rest…
Something pounded on the door outside, some pleas for life audible, everyone stepping from the heavily barricaded entrance, and waiting. Enormous force after enormous force hit the door over the course of several minutes, a voice silenced for each impact, Amy shrieking each time, involuntarily, clutching herself tightly, gazing on the loose, insecure bolts and rusty hinges.
It did not break.
After awhile, weapons drawn so tightly they started to splinter, it quieted, the only sound left the roar of wind outside as the storm went on.
They relaxed, slightly. The idea to wait until the storm passed was met in kind, the troupe going around, looking for things to keep themselves sustained, as they waited. The walls were wet with condensation, as it was a little warmer inside, though it was still frigid, the floorboards under their feet cracked apart by ice and pressure.
There was some broken furniture and chairs, ransacked cupboards, but nothing of use. Until they searched a far corner. There were various bags, some heavy furs left to dry by a strange fountain: shaped like a human face, with a cube shoved into the gaping mouth, water pouring down the eyes.
The water was scalding hot, but the exiles didn't care, Amy pulling her gloves off and sticking her hand, into the pool, her skin pruning and turning red in an instant, though warmth flooded her soon afterward.
They could warn up, and maybe drink. Drink, they needed to drink. They found some cracked, dusty jade flasks piled on a table, a faint gold residue staining them, the vessels getting filled one by one, and passed around. The fountain was pure, but vile, Amy resisting the urge to gag on the miraculous, broiling liquid as it filled her, though the warmth it brought her was good enough to ignore it, for now.
When they were full, they found even more: some folded bedsheets and odd, heavy furs for blankets that looked roughly patched together and cured. With furs, came meat and what looked to be fish from a lake they must've not seen, all of it packaged nicely, save for some frantic tearing on some, all in range of the sweeping mists of the fountain for warmth.
Amy even noticed that the room was lit by some ancient, nearly exhausted torches hung here and there, a few pots of oil smoldering on their twine ropes. This looked to be a survivalist outpost, maybe a building taken over by some wanderers like them, who simply had their wits about them, stocked well enough to last a few weeks, hopefully.
It was all great, but as they looked around, Amy gulped, feeling some hesitation in her stomach. There were a lot of supplies, but no signs of life, save some bootprints around the room, too worn to be from any of them.
It didn't matter, though, whoever it was was locked out by the doors, if they wanted in, they would need to bang on the irons and alert the party, assuming they weren't killed by the beasts outside.
The exiles made themselves comfortable, finding a few iron sheets to serve as skillets, frying up some meat to feed themselves, feeling refreshed as they huddled around the fountain.
They at once started to feel hot and filthy, deciding it would be best to use some rags to wipe down their clothes, and bathe in the fountain in order to clean themselves and let the seemingly endless supply of hot water replenish their strength.
They bickered on who to let go first, Amy wondering how to disrobe safely, when she felt a pull at her back, hungry eyes on all sides. Out of roughly twenty, their group stood at only eight, Amy one of three girls who'd managed to anger the Knights of Loyce as much as she had.
It didn't take a brilliant mind to know what they wanted, being isolated in this dim, chilled building, a reek of death seeming to close in. Fortunately for them, Amy was not a prude woman, her furs already shedding alongside the other two.
The evening was hot, and pleasurable, their moans drowning out the howling winds outside as they worked in and out of the fountain to avert the cold, as they didn't want to start a fire without any ventilation and the mist only went so far of the water. Still, as Amy lost herself to her more basic needs, she couldn't shake a strong dread.
Something was wrong, she could not understand what it was, but there was something they had missed, that was very important. Dots that had not been connected.
Unfortunately, as she was passed about her thoughts muddled, until she finally drifted to sleep…
-Screetch-
===================The Prestige – Scariest Music Ever====================
Amy's eyes peaked open, her head a little foggy, so she decided to settle back down…
-Screetch-
There it was again. She sat up, looking around, and seeing everyone else was still curled up, asleep. The wind was still howling outside, nothing hitting the barred doors, the irons still firm. Everything was locked out, for the time being.
-Screetch-
She looked around, trying to spot the source of the noise, or at least figure out what it was. It wasn't anything of theirs, and it wasn't one of them, so, what was it? She heard it again, louder this time, and found her gaze drawn to the ceiling.
The noise was coming from directly above her head. She gulped hard, her breath a little shaky as she looked at all the supplies they had pillaged for survival. They hadn't paid much mind to who they belonged to, but, in the process, they had forgotten something, which she finally remembered.
The building had a second story, and they had not checked it since barring themselves in.
She listened for it, the sound coming once more, this time she was positive she knew what it was. It was the unmistakable sound of metal grinding on wood, something heavy being drug across the ceiling above them.
They were not alone.
Amy shook the others awake, though they protested loudly, telling them what she had heard. They didn't believe her at first, but as they listened, they too heard that there was something being drug around the attic. As they got up and dressed, grabbing their weapons, they were alert for other noises, but so far that dragging noise was the only thing audible, aside from the whistling of the wind.
They agreed that whoever it was, they couldn't take any chances, since they had no way to know what the occupants were like, and they couldn't get thrown back out in the blizzard, not with those… things out there. They looked around, seeing no way up, until one of them tried a door to a dark, cluttered little storeroom. As they sifted through the piles of items, Amy saw a staircase at the back corner.
Whoever thought it was a good idea to place a staircase inside a closet was disturbed: it was dark, almost pitch black, forcing them to backtrack long enough to get some torches and light up the area, the light of the burning oils turning everything a stark, pale color in the gloom. Amy wasn't frightened easily, but, there was something seriously wrong with this place, that seemed to send her heart racing as they made their way up.
The stairs were so steep, it was like scaling a ladder, the long, iron nails screeching as they stepped up, the wood bowing, seemingly ready to break under them. Amy gulped, staring past the others, but only seeing the old steps and darkness ahead of her. Whatever was up here knew they were coming, if not because of all the noise, because they were bringing their crude torches along with them, which seemed blindingly bright in the gloomy space.
The woman was horribly shaken by the time she got to the top of the stairs, so much so time seemed to slow as she crept up the last step, looking around hard, yet being in the protection of the stairwell didn't comfort her much. The attic was almost completely empty, nothing but a vast, dark space with a pitched roof, now falling apart in places with snow and a little bit of sun filtering down, though the storm made it impossible to see out the cracks and holes.
The dark was the first thing she noticed, lit only by the torches the various groupmates were carrying around, but the second was the smell.
There was an overwhelming smell of soot and ash, char marks across the ceiling and the edges of the room, though it was so cold it was extinguished early. She crept on, seeing a faint pile of wood in the light of a hole in the roof. It seemed that whoever it was had lit a fire to stay warm, and opened a vent in the ceiling, but it went out of control.
Did that have something to do with the party of hunters or exiles from downstairs?
Amy froze, her heart racing. They were in the attic, but they had yet to see a single person other than themselves. Holding her torch out, she turned around on her axis, lowering it when she saw another exile was coming towards her, his torch still flickering in the dark.
"Hello?" She called, the torch coming closer to her, its light gently bobbing in the corridor as he came closer still. She stepped back a little as it continued to move for her, the exile saying nothing, when she realized how erratically the light was moving.
It shifted to the edge, the torchlight going across his body, adorned with burnt, torn furs that smoldered in the cold, his face dead and rotted with massive blisters and red blotches over there side of his head around his hollow, black eyes.
She screamed, the torch bearing figure leaping on her, dropping his light in the process as he wrestled her to the ground, Amy struggling to kick him off, easily overpowering and throwing the frail figure aside, though he immediately started jumping up again, Amy paralyzed when she saw his face up close:
Burned away with rot and soot dripping form the festering pores, his fur armor charred with the iron plates burned black, the Hollow diving back at her, when it was speared through the side of the head by another exile, the figure falling limp. She struggled away from it, when the room filled with the sounds of many, many footsteps, their eyes looking about.
The faint rays of light showed figure after figure, wheezing and growling, all burnt up and lingering in the dark, their silhouettes filing out of the darkness with their various weapons drawn. The exile pushed her away, looking back long enough for an axe to bury itself in his skull, tossed by one of the warriors, the mad figures howling as various other exiles screamed, and fought back.
Amy struggled to her feet, looking back, and not seeing anyone in the space, but hearing the drum of their feet as they closed in, everytime she hit someone she lashed out, throwing them back, tripping on something that smelled dead and struggling down the way, blind. The torchlights swirled around her, she looked for a face, or a hand, but all she could see was the torch, hear them coming towards her.
Her feet stepped into air, the woman tumbling down the steps, and hitting her head with force, before flipping down the steps and falling back to her feet, her back dragging down the stairs painfully, until she finally stopped at the bottom, her vison flickering as she ran through the store, tripping and stumbling as her head rung painfully.
An impact scattered some pots behind her, Amy looking back as a hollow dropped down behind her, then another, and another, the hollows tumbling clumsily down the steps, too feral to coordinate, until they formed a piled of dead, burnt boddie. She ran in the dark, ramming the wall and feeling out for the door, resting her hand on the knob and wrenching, finding it locked.
"Let me out!" she screamed, looking over her shoulder and seeing the dim hollows stumbling over eachother with feral moans, crashing over the debris, getting closer, and closer, "Let me out!" she shrieked again, looking back as they fell right behind her, her fist aching as it banged on the door, ramming her shoulder in, a hollow rising to his feet, its ragged breath on her neck…
The door fell open, Amy falling through, hearing it slammed shut behind her again, a hollow's hand coming around the door and getting crushed in it, the undead shrieking and struggling to force it open, more of them piling up as a few men strained to force it close. Finally, one of them took and axe, and roughly chopped the hollow's arm off, pressing the door closed and roughly bolting it once more.
They barricaded it, the hollows on the other side hitting it again and again, mindlessly, relentlessly, howling in anger when they couldn't break through, but they kept it up, Amy swearing she could hear the wood splintering behind the shelves they pressed in.
She heard screams from upstairs, but it was too late now, their voices, one by one, going silent, a few even making it near the door, the hollow's assault stopping for a few minutes, before it picked back up again. It was just Amy and three of the other exiles, now.
====================Charlie Spring – Pier to Nowhere====================
She huddled up near the fountain, wiping her eyes, but she couldn't gather her thoughts as the hollows continued to howl and hit the door, over and over again. This went on for days. Was it days? There was no day or night, only pitch black and grey. Amy could not tell, as she stopped sleeping after… after when?
Each time it teased her, she would drift to sleep, when the hollows would finally smash down the door, running towards her with that wild, unkempt gait, leaping on her and ripping her throat open, chopping her to pieces with their crude weapons... and she would snap awake, panting in primal fear with sweat burning her eyes and caking her body.
They piled more and more on the door, but it never felt right as they head the feral creatures continue to skulk around the storeroom, scratching and roughly hitting themselves on the wood, she could even hear a few sniffling, like they were tracking their unseen prey. Upstairs, they could hear everyone walking, moaning, active after their long sleep.
Amy felt knots in her stomach, tears streaming down her face as the walls closed in on her, more and more, the indoors suffocating her. How would they survive this, but, the storm had to break. At least, It had to break before the hollows breeched the doors. Or… how long had they been here, where was here, there was something about Eleum Loyce, was that a kingdom they were going to.
But the storm did not break, the grey sheets lasting on and on, Amy jumping to her feet, her wild eyes flashing back and forth when something pawed on the main door, but it never got in. What was it, that gallop sounded familiar but… what was the creature, it looked like… what was it? She started to keep time by their food, when she realized it was wearing down, further and further.
A few fish, a hunk of meat, each day, hour by hour. It was too fast, she didn't know how long it was but it was going too fast, the gloomy building holding all they had, but… there wasn't enough. They had been living there since as long as she could remember though, what was that noise, in the ceiling?
Maybe have to check that out with the others…
Sooner or later, they would need to go out into the storm, but, wasn't their something out there… no, they could not leave, not yet. Why is there barely anything left? A hollow banged on the door, Amy curling up as the trot of beasts went by the window.
She was near catatonic… who was she again? It didn't matter, someone tried to grab her, the woman kicking them off, when she was hit back, forced down.
It was more than days, or weeks, was it a month already? Or two? How long, how long would it last, they couldn't travel at night, or in the storm, but when a storm passed, it was the winds, when the winds ceased, a storm. It never broke long enough. She couldn't even remember the last time she saw the sun, when was it… couldn't seem to remember, was there always a storm here? Why were they in this building if they couldn't travel?
But then, it happened, the day. The promised day. They looked all over, but they had run out of food, it was all eaten up. It wasn't so bad at first, just some stomach pains, some dryness in her throat, but her body was worn out already so it didn't bother her. But then, the days started to slowly creep along, her mind losing its ability to comprehend, it went on and on, the storm never parting, not once.
One of them left, ran into the storm, while he had his strength while they were asleep. He never returned, Amy staring at the door, the hollows now just wandering around, their feet gently padding around in their room, waiting, or maybe they simply lost their patience.
Is that what would happen to her, soon? She felt like she asked, though she couldn't hear herself speak, one of them responding by hitting her over the face and shouting something, though it was lost on her, just watching his lips move. The two started to get violent, pacing around and muttering to themselves, the walls pressing in, until the mansion started to feel like a closet, then a drawer in a cupboard, the glassy eyed woman feeling her throat dry up and stomach curl as she crept into the corner of the fountain, were it was safe. Out, she wanted out.
But it seemed apparent that by the time the storm broke, if it broke, they would be too tired to make the trip. Why was this happening? Maybe she was just weak, she couldn't remember the last time she ate, maybe she never ate, or they had always lived her without food. Why were they here?
She hadn't slept since then, when they heard the sound in the ceiling, and she was starved. She begun to dream awake of things, terrible things, nightmares arriving though she could not sleep. She would lie down for hours, wide awake, staring, but even then she saw horrid things, felt-
The space, it was too small. That was it, it was too small, especially for three, not even one, one was too many. It was too small.
Her eyes burned, her hair matted, when she was taken yet again. This time it was savage, and she was certain that something broke, though she wasn't lucid enough to tell what. She was hurt, now… could she make the trip… oh gods, this storm, it never ended, it never began, it always was: it held her down. She must have just been born here, that made sense. Her head… oh, it hurt. How hard did she hit it all those years ago, on the stairs?
The hunger, it was too great. She needed space, else, she could suffocate, the stones smothering her. Then she saw, two animals by her side, yes… how could she not realize it, their souls, so bright...
She did it fast, good and fast. the first had his throat torn open at the edge of her knife, which she had found, the crescent of blood weeping all over her hadn , but he was quiet, the second, she just took his axe and drove down as hard as she could.
She had never beheaded anyone before, so it was rough and ragged, his head clinging at the edge so it feel sideways when he sprung up, her axe coming down again and again, but he wouldn't die as his severed head laughed in her face, so loud it was like rocks or stairs beating on the side of her skull, she saw him burn up and hollow, the ligaments attaching as he came forward and lunged for her, his limbs coming off and peeling, but he wouldn't die, he wouldn't die!
She pressed him down, haphazardly grinding her blade to his bones, tearing them muscles open and lapping the blood off her hands as he ripped everything off the skeleton, throwing a pot of burning oil on it and watching it burn, the smell of meat intoxicating her, until it stopped burning, and she feared, feeling his souls enter.
The two… they fed her so long, she couldn't remember the last time she was hungry, though she still felt starved as she withered on, sitting huddled in the corner, breathing loudly and pressing her hands to her crotch. Must keep it out, what, who? Who was that in the ceiling, he was coming to get her? Behind some debris, was that… they were coming in, no they were inside.
After staring into the grey for a long time, Amy finally saw it thin, then vanish, the sun, so blinding her eyes could not even look, coming over the horizon. She did it, she spat into the face of death and ate his bones, infused him with her bosom and used that strength to survive. Quickly… move… quickly….
====================Peder Helland – Ominous Wind====================
She stumbled to the door, pulling the bolt aside and dropping the chains, squinting her eyes shut as the deep, cold air blasted her in the face. She drunk in how fresh, how pure it seemed, and ran towards the horizon. She could see, oh the wonders she could see!
The path was clear, it was right there, alight in the sun, she would reach the end of the maze and befuddle the gods that had sent her scampering in.
She wandered, the sun showing her the passage of days. First one, then two, three and four…
Funny, was there someone else, those footprints, are they familiar? They were hers, but that meant she was going in the right direction, it was the blazen path! No, stupid, wrong, why was she going in a circle, she was going strait? Where was strait? So much snow, an endless white in all directions, the moon turning into a silver ocean. She stopped keeping track, feeling calmed… yes, just walk along, eventually… will get somewhere…
A gorge opened near her, and she begun to follow, deep, deeper still. She wandered along, scavenging some along the way, camps, the dead, eating the water frozen at her feet. But, she had wondered her entire life, there was… she knew how to live here, this was her home, in the snow.
As she wandered, she heard it, a chill in the air, as the wind begun to pick up. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening. No, that wasn't right, how, why another storm, the last raged for a decade and now another, or maybe she was this long walking as the grey clouds drifted into view.
She ran, faster than before over the snow, along the cliffside, it had to end, it had to end one day. The wind picked up, snow beginning to sweep into a mist and cloud her sight. Again, why? She collapsed in the snow, the hollowed woman panting with exhaustion, the ghosts mocking her.
She saw it in the distance, a blot of ink in the snow, her sunken eyes focusing, when it turned towards her, the wind blowing over her back, putting her upwind. For a while, neither of them moved, then the mist clouded her sight.
When it parted, the ghost was bounding at her full tilt…
She lifted her spear, the great black beast leaping high in the air and coming down towards her, Amy leaping back, though the covering of snow pulled her down again, the monster crashing down in front of her, Her spear coming forward and lancing the side of the great tiger's face, only for its paw to come out and knock her from her feet, gashing her armor open.
She fell down, her blood staining the snow, looking into the eyes of the laughing beast, and seeing… pity… did it pity her? She leapt up, lunging to gouge his eyes out, something ramming her back, and knocking her down.
She looked back over her shoulder, a second coming from behind her. Before she could think, the first drug her up from the ground by its teeth, the second biting down on her midsection-
The tundra was filled with the sound of the hollows raspy shrieking and tearing flesh, the snow turning rouge…