Ash rained from the sky as it had done for years over the desolated town. The soot slowly stained all that it touched in the fog induced world. Admits the ash stood a hunched figure hidden in the whitewash of the world. Slowly the hunched figure shifted through the ashes looking for anything salvageable in the white hellscape. The old crown dug further into the warm ash as it slowly burned her crooked fingers as she reached the items below. Freezing suddenly as the old woman heard soft footsteps echoing behind her. Turning slowly, she locked eyes with a small greasy child. Her hair was blacker than the tar covering her soot-stained face and most of her raggedy dress. The old woman started to shake, her hands curling in fear and sadness as the child spoke. "Mother...We have a task for you." The small black-eyed demon stepped closer to her 'mother' holding out a small golden box. The box glistened in the low light as ashes that wept from the sky seemed to dodge the box and fall around it. "Do this for us and all will be forgiven..." The old womans eyes widened at the thought of redemption or at least death. Death would be better than livening in this hell any longer and livening with the horrors of what she had done. Stepping up to the demon that looked like her daughter, she raised her arms for the box. "Take it to the church." The mother stopped dead before she touched the box. Snatching her hands back the old woman shook her head.
"I can't, I can't get anywhere near the church. They will see me...They will hurt me." She was afraid of the woman that ran the church. She would not be able to do the task demanded of her. The fear of Christabella was too great. The child sighed and stepped forward and touched the older womans face with a clawed hand, the other still holding out the golden box. "With this mother, Christabella will no longer be a problem. The church will fall, and it will all end. Don't you want that mother? An end to all of this?" Crying silently the older woman nodded as the child touched her face leavening a burn in its place. How she wanted this to end, and she would do this last thing for her daughter. Slowly grabbing the golden box, it felt like redemption in her hands. Like a cleansing fire and she would be the one to unleash it. The small child smiled a toothy grin at the human before her, as the broken woman headed in the direction of the church. It was coming all together, soon they would have their revenge and the blood that was owed. As Dahlia got closer to the church her cofinance began to fade. She was somewhat protected from the hells of this world by her daughter, and she was unable to die but that didn't mean the Brotherhood would not torture her for fun and amusement as her broken fingers were a testament to that. Huddling under her shawl her gray hair matched the soot of the world around her. She didn't know if she could do this. Looking down at the box in her hands it softly gleamed with the only touch of color in this world she had seen in a long time that was not fire and blood. She could just drop the box somewhere close to the church and stay at a safe distance, it might make the demon mad, but she wouldn't be endangered from the Brotherhood that way. Hearing a whisper from the box she knew she would be damned if she did not complete this task. Her feet slowly moved on their own towards her destination. She felt like it was an out of body experience, her feet moving in a direction she didn't want to go. She could almost swear she heard music from somewhere. Her eyes were glued to the box in her gnarled hands, she didn't even notice she had traveled so much distance until she heard a horn blow in front of her.
Snapping her eyes up from the box she shook and moaned painfully as she realized too late, she was on the steps of the church. Hearing shouting from inside as the lookout spied on her and began to grab weapons. Gasping in horror she dropped the box on the ground with a thud and she turned and bolted as fast as her broken body would allow her back into the foggy world. The doors to the church opened as men flooded out of it like cockroaches chasing after the hunched woman. One of the men in his excitement down the flight of stairs kicked the small golden box. It skidded and bounced down the stairs stopping at the feet of a stone gargoyle. A few shouts were heard from the misty fog as they chased after their prey. The box waited for the return of the men demanding to be noticed. Time slowly ticked by as the ash began to fall around it. As the men slowly began to trinkle back after their failed hunt. In sour moods they began to walk up the stairs. As the last straggler filtered in from the haze, he slowly trudged up the stairs only to suddenly stop as the sound of soft music was playing. Looking around, his eyes shifting fast, looking for new horrors the demons had summoned, he spied a small box in the ash. He could almost swear the music was coming from the box below the gargoyle's feet. Reaching forward the young teen grabbed the box and held it out Infront of him. It was pristine looking, holding no blemishes or staining from the soot around it. Hearing his father shout out at him to hurry inside the young man pocked the box and scampered up the stairs slightly slipping on the top step he bolted inside to their sanctuary with his prize.
Another chapter... it's been a bit.