genedara

[genedara]

No Refunds

((Recommended listening: https://youtu.be/ZTVn6Mse_xQ?si=TsbBPQC64Q88Fnp2 ))

Kylona let out a mighty yawn as she stepped out of the portal, connecting her from Genedara’s tower to Booty Bay. On the other side of the portal Gene stood with her eyes closed, focused on keeping the spell going for as long as Kylona needed. The human girl waved at her friend before wandering through the tunnel leading to Booty Bay and eventually stepping out into the summer’s sun. She brought a hand up to shield her eyes, wishing she had grabbed one of Kallard’s hats before leaving the tower.

“Ah, well, a little sun isn’t gonna kill me,” Kylona muttered to herself as she wave her way through the small town.

“’Eeeey, what’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ here?” a Goblin asked as Kylona passed him.

Ignoring the man’s words, Kylona pressed on. Her flip flops slapped up against the wooden planks as she made her way down the ramp onto the main level. A healthy mixture of Horde and Alliance members were going about their business, their conversations barely audible over the screeching Goblins trying to peddle their wares on unsuspecting customers.

“Come get the best grenades in the whole of Azeroth! Guarnteed to make your foes pop like bubbles!”

“Kaja’Cola, ice cold Kaja’Cola right here with only a minimal import fee!”

“You lookin’ fer a new friend? Well, I got’cha! I gots all sorts of exotic pets for you and your hunting needs! Hungry? Buy two cats and get the third free!”

“Who needs magic when you have GUNS!?”

“Growth potions here! Want a bigger cock? Looking to grow a few feet? Tits too small? Come get Jameson’s Trusty Growth Tincture for all your growing needs!”

Kylona couldn’t help but laugh at some of the pitches the merchants were slinging. She ignored the wild claims, knowing better than to trust a Goblin selling random wares that seem to good to be true. The last time the Felmanns had invested in something a Goblin made it had blown up in their faces in a spectacular fashion, having stained their faces with soot. Since then, the family had made sure to steer clear of anything made by Goblins, fearing for their lives.

Eventually, after a few minutes of wandering around, Kylona found the merchant she had been looking for. The Goblin stood at the entryway to a very small storefront with little more inside than a counter with a register and a door leading into a back room. When she approached, the Goblin looked up at the girl with a wide grin.

“What’cha lookin’ for beautiful?” the little man asked as he puffed away on a cigar.

“A friend of mine had placed an order with you and I’m here to pick up,” Kylona said, slipping a hand into a pocket before producing a slip of paper and offering it over to the Goblin.

“Cool, cool,” he said, taking the paper and giving it a good look over. “Give me a sec and I’ll get your order.”

Kylona watched as the Goblin turned around and wobbled into the store, moving past the counter and opening the back door before vanishing into the threshold. She stood there and waited for what felt like ten minutes before the merchant came back out of his store, holding a cage that was nearly as big as he was. He grunted and placed the cage on the counter and motioned for the human to come inside.

“Uh,” Kylona said, pointing at the cage and it’s inhabitant. “That’s not what my friend ordered.”

“It is,” the Goblin grunted, pointing at the order number written on the door of the cage. “See? That’s your order number, same as the paper.”

“I don’t care what the paper says, that is not what she ordered.”

“I don’t give a fuck, she already paid,” the Goblin practically spat out.

Kylona glared down at the Goblin, who just stared up at the girl with his arms crossed over his chest. He puffed away on his cigar, the smoke quickly filling the small room. After several minutes of staring at each other, Kylona groaned, grabbed the cage and stormed out of the building.

“NO REFUNDS!” the Goblin shouted before slamming the door shut behind Kylona.

“Ugh, Gene is gonna be pissed,” Kylona muttered to herself as she stared at the cage’s sole inhabitant. “I hope she has some crackers…”

------

Genedara let out a sigh of relief when Kylona returned through the portal. Once she was safely though, the portal snapped closed, allowing the elf to relax once more. Her eyes gave off a quick flash of blue as she activated her magical sight. A frown spread across her lips as she saw Kylona set the cage down on the table nearest the camp fire.

“I think you got the wrong cage,” Genedara said as she approached the table.

“According to the merchant this is your cage.”

Sitting in the cage was not a raven but instead a green macaw with blue feathers on his wings. Beady black eyes observed the elf, the parrot tilting its head to the side slightly. It let out a squawk and tried to flap its wings, only to have its movement restricted by the small cage. Upon hearing the noise, Kallard jumped to his feet and ran over to the table, grinning down at the bird.

“Hah, a parrot! Hey,” Kallard said, his voice oozing with excitement. “Can you say fuck?”

“Can you say fuck?” the parrot squawked, repeating what Kallard had just said causing, the grizzled war veteran to clap his hands together as he laughed.

“Are you sure this is my order?” Gene asked as she deflated. “That female Raven was expensive…”

“Yeah, it’s the right one. See, this is why we don’t work with Goblins. They’ll just try and find a way to fuck you over,” Kylona replied.

Kallard reached over to the cage and opened the door, letting the macaw out. The bird glanced around at the group before stepping onto Kallard’s hand. With a toothy grin Kallard took the bird into his tent and came back out a moment later with a small pirate’s hat in hand. He gently set the hat down on the bird’s head and started laughing.

“Oh, we’re keeping him” Cassian said, watching as Kallard set the macaw down on Genedara’s shoulder.

“You’re a pirate captain now! Lookit that,” Kallard said as he took a few steps back, that grin never leaving his face.

“This is the happiest I’ve seen you since Cassian came back,” Marilini added.

“Let me guess, you always wanted a parrot?” Genedara asked, not entirely pleased about the whole situation. “I am going to kill that Goblin.”

“Dude, who doesn’t want a parrot?! They can tank and solve puzzles and swear like a sailor!” Kallard said, brimming with excitement.

“WHAT!” the parrot shouted as it bobbed its head. “What! What! What!”

“Oh for the love of…” Gene muttered.

“This is a side of Kal I haven’t seen in years,” Cassian told Kylona as Kallard took back the parrot and instead placed it on his own shoulder. “The last time he was like this was when he saw a burrowing owl.”

“Hey! That owl was very small and cute,” Kallard snapped back, still grinning.

“Hey doofus,” Kylona said to Kallard, pointing at him. “Your face is frozen.”

“Hey doofus! WHAT! Doofus! Doofus!” mirror the parrot.

“Someone kill me,” Genedara muttered, rubbing her forehead with one hand.

Eventually Genedara wandered into her tower, leaving the Felmanns with their new feathery companion. Kallard refused to let anyone else hold it while he attempted to teach it words only a real sailor or pirate would say. When it came time for lunch, Genedara found herself back down with the others, seemingly amused by Kallard’s antics, seeing a side of him that she was sure didn’t exist up until now.

“Fuck trumpet! Fuck trumpet!” cried the parrot all throughout the day.

[genedara]

The Golden Age

Look at ‘im now boys. Ain’t nothin’ like a little fear to make a paper man crumble.

((Recommended listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXmD_kzTMe0&themeRefresh=1 ))

((The following contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Themes include graphic and intense violence and sexual themes and imagery. Read at your own discretion.))

“I need to speak with Him,” Genedara told the Felmanns.

The elf stood before the four humans with her arms crossed over her chest while wearing a serious expression. The group before her were all dressed in casual outfits with various weapons scattered across the large tent. Outside Bao and Kun were basking in the sun with their bellied up and pointed towards the summer sun.

“The fuck you do,” Kallard said as he leaned back in his chair. “But, let’s say we entertain this horrible idea of yours. Why do you want to talk to it?”

“Because we face an enemy none of us has seen before. Sure, we’ve seen things similar to him. Things like the Void and Shadow magics. They all feel the same but the power he uses is different. It’s beyond ancient, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. If I am to figure out a way to kill him, I need to understand him. To see where he hails and what exactly he hopes to achieve.”

“I’ll save you the trouble and just tell you,” Marilini added, looking over at Gene. “He aims to kill all of us.”

“I have a hypothesis,” Genedara started, turning her attention to Mari. “You two were only possessed for a couple of weeks at the most. I’ve been with Him for months. Maybe the longer you stay the more you see, because I know for a fact he wants to do more than just kill us.”

“Does he want to make us his slaves?” Cassian asked.

“It’s possible but I won’t know for sure until I sit down at talk with him,” came the elf’s reply.

“Something tells me you’re about to give us some bad news,” Kylona muttered more to herself than anyone else.

“You are correct, there is bad news. If I am to do this, I cannot do it while the anti-magic shackle is on.”

“Fuck me,” Kallard and Kylona said in unison.

“How long would you need?” asked Marilini.

“Less than fifteen minutes,” the elf replied, looking back over at Kallard. “I won’t do this unless all four of you are on board.”

Kallard groaned and tilted his head back, looking up at Cassian’s concerned face. He stared at his husband for a moment before closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. The man went silent for a spell, carefully considering Gene’s proposal even though he thought it was a terrible idea. After a few minutes had passed, Kallard threw his arms up into the air, let loose an annoyed sigh and looked back over at Genedara.

“I’m in,” Kallard said.

“As am I,” Marilini added.

“If they’re in, I’m in,” Cassian chimed in.

“Ugh,” was all Kylona said, nodding her head in agreement.

Genedara looked at the group, nodded her head and then walked out of the tent. She motioned for the others to follow her as she took a seat next to the ever burning camp fire and got comfortable. Her legs were crisscross, hands laying in her lap. The Felmann’s made their way out of the tent and followed the elf. Rather than joining her on the ground, the others stood around her, all within arms reach of some kind of weapon.

“I’ll try and make this quick,” Genedara said as she allowed her eyes to drift close and her mind began to wander.

The instant she closed her eyes, several cracks split her flesh apart and grew outward from her eye sockets. Rather than exposing the delicate muscle structure below the skin, inky darkness was all the Felmann’s were able to see. Kallard watched as the cracks formed and split across the elf’s delicate features, giving her a sinister appearance. Neither of them said anything, but doubt started to plague their minds, worried that they may have made a tremendous mistake.

------

An immense and featureless space stretched out before Genedara. She stood on solid ground, her feet submerged in an inch of ice-cold water. A thick fog hugged the ground, making it nigh impossible to see more than 100 feet in any direction. Off in the distance voices could be heard, but their words were alien and impossible to understand.

Standing a few feet in front of the elf was Ralitha, the Thing’s first host. She stood there in black armor rimmed with silver highlights. A short sword was sheathed on her left him and a dagger on her right. Her horns jutted out from the sides of her head and curled in towards her forehead and then straight forward, ending in a sharp point. A set of tattered and torn wings lay folded up against the woman’s back, a few stray strands of leathery flesh dancing in a gentle breeze.

“What do you want?” the First asked.

“I don’t need to speak with you,” Genedara muttered while she strode forward to get up into Ralitha’s personal space. “Move.”

“You do not command me, elf.”

“MOVE!” commanded Genedara, compelling the woman before her to obey.

Ralitha’s face went pale as her body moved without her approval, shuffling off to the side and allowing the elf to move past her. She fought against the command to the best of her ability, but it felt as if her master was speaking directly to her. When did Genedara learn to use this magic? She had been so careful in guarding its secrets, hoping to keep them locked behind a sealed door in the chasm of her god’s mind.

“If you follow me I will tear you apart and spread your remains across the stars,” Genedara told Ralitha as she walked away.

“He will end you, girl! You don’t know what you are messing with! Only He will survive, only He will remain!” Ralitha shouted as the elf vanished into the fog.

Genedara walked for what felt like days as she moved through the featureless landscape. No matter how far she moved, the elf was never any closer to approaching the source of the voices off in the distance. With each step a chill ran up her spine, her body refusing to adapt to the cold water she was forced to tread through.

One moment she was walking and the next she was falling into a dark abyss.

At first there was nothing but darkness for as far as the eye could see. But then there were flashes of memories, disjointed and played out of order. A boy was born and immediately following a girl is getting fucked by her first lover. The tender moment is replaced with a drunken man being stabbed by a young boy defending his twin sister. Violence was then love as a couple kissed each other for the first time as a married couple.

Genedara watched as Ralitha stabbed herself with her own sword, driving the blade into her heart. The tip of the weapon was forced out her back with her still beating heart throbbing and gushing crimson liquid everywhere. The Preacher replaced the grizzly scene with her giving a blowjob to a priest, only to rip his manhood off after he finished in her mouth. She spat the mixture of cum and blood onto the floor, grinning up at the man. Her hands were cupped next to the wound and collected some of the blood before drinking it.

Blood was now cherry blossoms, drifting down from the heavens on a gentle spring breeze. The petals danced in the air as a city burned while war consumed the world. Crafts made entirely of metal shot across the heavens before turning into single celled organisms dancing in a primordial ooze. Memories of people warped into entire worlds burning as their inhabitants choked on poisonous air. An orgy became a scene of mass murder. Death became love and shifted into children murdered by a man led down a dark path, his compassion remade into fury.

Flashes of bright, golden light flashed by, its warmth vaguely reminding her of the Light. What was once warm and comforting, the light made a drastic shift into an inky violet that seemed to writhe in place. All around her, Genedara watched as the universe began to rewind back into itself.

An explosion rang off in the distance, its sound played in reverse, first deafeningly loud and then deathly silent. Every visible star was sucked into a pinprick point before the space around Genedara went completely black. There was no light from which she could see, feeling as if she was still falling into this dark chasm.

Then there was light once more, a blinding white light that spread far and wide. A single world danced around this white dwarf, one side of the planet constantly facing the sun while the other always faced the void. On this world lived two groups of beings, one made of light and the magic of life and the other of shadows and death. Together the two groups brought peace to their universe as it grew. Lesser lifeforms, once constrained to their single celled origins, began to spread across the universe of old.

Whatever was guiding the vision forced Genedara’s perspective to focus in on the origin world. She watched as the world grew bigger and bigger as it drew closer and closer before dropping her down towards the surface. Eventually she found herself standing at the edge of light and dark, watching as change started to tear through the world.

A new, younger voice rose to power among the beings of light. They demanded that the creatures of shadow should be purged from the world under the promise of creating a golden age without end. The idea spread like wildfire across the land of black and white, moving across the light side like a plague.

Genedara watched in horror as the creatures of light moved outside of their domain and into the darkness. They slaughtered everything in their path, killing entire families like cattle. The war was brief but bloody. In time the light was able of taking over their entire world, believing that they had cast their light into the shadows, killing everyone.

It didn’t take long for reality to begin unraveling, splitting apart like atoms in a bomb. One moment there was order and the next absolute chaos. An abundance of light spread out across the universe, killing everything in its path. It spread out across the cosmos, a wave of pure light originating from the once balanced home world.

One moment the universe was alive and growing to cold and dead as the light spread continued its outward journey. Just as the last life was snuffed out an explosion tore through the fabric of reality, killing one universe and creating another. Unlike the last one, however, a nigh endless golden age would begin upon its creation, promising galaxies swarming with life and powerful energies. Once contained to just one world, each star contained the soul of one being of light, ensuring that they would forever watch over their new domain, confident that the shadow was gone for good.

But one yet lived. He was all that remained of his people, the only survivor of the lights massacre of His people. He knew not their love, but their hate and it consumed him. Eons passed and his rage grew deeper and deeper. Eventually He was discovered and sealed away, knowing that if He were to remain free, He would eventually put an end to this great golden age. For billions of years He sat, plotting their demise. It was then Ralitha found him after she ascended to godhood, setting Him free without a second though, allowing Him to live in her.

“Now you know the truth,” a voice said from all around her.

Genedara was stunned into silence, the horrors of their war fresh in her memory.

“You feel as I do. You too feel the pain of losing one’s people.” “I do,” Genedara managed to say after moments of silence.

“What will you do with this information?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do not pity me,” the voice said, a hint of anger looming in the distance.

“I am not here to pity you,” the elf told the darkness. “I seek to understand you.”

“So you can destroy me, just as they have destroyed my people.”

“What if I don’t have to destroy you? Can we not live in unison?”

“No,” the voice boomed. “They will pay for what they have done.”

“More genocide is not the answer to your people’s genocide! More death will not bring them back, you know this!” Genedara pleaded with the beast, trying to talk some sense into it.

“And that is where you are wrong, Genedara Silverfury.”

All around Genedara the area around her began to change. Objects began to take shape in the darkness as a silver light was cast out into the void. Several people took shape, each one a former host to the Thing that lived within the elf. Ralitha stood there with a cocky smirk on her lips, eyes glinting with malice. The nameless woman known only as the Preacher also stood there, her milky white eyes gazing down at the elf.

“Your kind have a gift bestowed upon you by my tormentors, the gift of your soul,” the voice screamed in Genedara’s mind. “This world will burn so mine can thrive again. Your containment will not stop me. I will have my revenge and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

A pair of hands reached out and gently took hold of Genedara’s head. They began to caress the sides of her head, lovingly cradling her skull. The hands made a twisting motion with both hands and snapped Genedara’s neck and then tore it off. She was then forced to watch as her body was violated in every meaning of the word, unable to escape any of the pain as they violated her mind, body and soul.

“Only I will remain.”

------

Genedara’s eyes popped open and she lurched forward and emptied the contents of her stomach in the smoldering coals of the fire. She flopped over to her side as her body convulsed, muscles taut with tension. Cassian was there, and so was Kylona, the two ensuring the seizure passed without incident. It felt like an eternity but eventually the episode came to an end and the elf was left feeling exhausted.

“You okay?” Kallard asked from somewhere out of sight. “’Cause you were gone for a solid hour.”

“I’m… Fine,” Genedara mumbled while Cassian helped her sit upright once more.

“I vote we stop fucking with the thing and let Gene rest,” Kylona added, obviously angry at what had transpired.

“I don’t plan on doing that ever again,” the elf added, glancing up at the smallest of the humans.

“Good. You need to rest,” came Kylona’s snappy reply. “Go lay down in my bed and I’ll keep you company.”

Genedara didn’t need any further encouragement. She held her right hand out and Kylona took it and aided her getting off the ground. Ky then gently guided Gene over to her small tent and onto her plush bed. The elf sank into the soft, plushy mattress as a blanket was tossed over the elf.

“If you ask me to read you a bedtime story you’re outta luck,” Kylona muttered as she took a seat next to the bed.

“How long have you known Kal and Mari?” Genedara asked.

“Not too long, several months now, I think. Why?”

“You trust them?”

“With my life.”

“That is good to hear. I am sorry for bringing this chaos into your lives,” Genedara said softly.

“It’s okay,” Kylona replied with a shrug. “You’re not bad company, just a bit formal. All prim and proper, yeah?”

“Ah, yes, I am a product of my upbringing. My father was one of the mages who taught your people how to use magic. As a result we spent a lot of time with nobles, both with humans and elves.”

“That explains it. What was it like?”

“What was what like, my childhood?”

“Yeah,” Kylona said with a nod of her head. “I wanna know what it’s like to grow up in Quel’thalas.”

Genedara bobbed her head in agreement before retelling her childhood to the human girl, sparing no details. She explained what it was like to grow up not in one house, but many different ones in various kingdoms in the north. While she believed her story to be mundane, Kylona was simply enraptured with the idea of growing up and acting like a royal princess. Her eyes went wide and sparkly when Genedara spoke of the grand balls she had to attend. Tears were shed when Gene spoke of meeting her husband and laughter was shared when the elf spoke of the silly things her husband would do to cheer her up after a long day of work. Before long the two would agree that they were both tired and settled down to nap with the promise of a traditional Quel’dorei meal upon waking.

[genedara]

Home is Where the Heart is

For so long, I have waited

So long that I almost became

Just a stoic statue, fit for nobody

And I don't wanna get in your way

But I finally think I can say

That the vicious cycle was over

The moment you smiled at me

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Genedara said as she took a seat at the table inside the Felmann’s main tent.

Once she had recovered, the Felmanns packed up their gear and moved to the elf’s tower just east of Goldshire. They had decided to live out of their tents rather than moving into the tower, thinking they would be intruding on their new family member’s personal space. The wolves Bao and Kun were excited to have more space to prowl around, clearly enjoying their new home.

“What’s up?” Kylona asked while the others ate breakfast sandwiches.

“Given everything that’s happened in the past few weeks I have come to realize that I am a touch under-prepared for our current predicament. My father was a very prominent figure in Quel’dorei magical society and had a library of tomes that rivaled that of Dalaran. I have been putting this off for some time, but I think it would be a good idea for me to return to my homeland and retrieve some of those books.”

“Quel’thalas?” Kallard asked, perking up at the mention of the elven homeland.

“Correct. My estate lies in Silvermoon City,” Genedara said with a bob of her head.

“I’m in,” Marilini and Kallard said in unison.

“Well, if they’re both going then I want to tag along as well,” added Kylona.

“What, and staying here is the alternative? Count me in. Always wanted to see the towers in Silvermoon,” Cassian said with a warm smile.

“I am unsure as to what the political climate is like back home, but we should be okay. My estate lies in a section of the city that took the brunt of Arthas’ attack so there shouldn’t be anyone around. Should things get dicey I would prefer if no one died. There are only so many of my people left alive and our numbers must be preserved if we are to survive this rough patch.”

“Not really planning on starting the fifth war, so yeah, I agree. No deaths today,” Kallard said with a stern tone of voice. “Leave the weapons here. Should anything happen we’re more than capable of fending off a few folk with our fists.”

Kylona, Marilini and Cassian all reached down to their holsters and slipped their revolvers out before gently laying them down on the wooden dining table. Kallard’s pistol joined the others and he leaned back in his chair, the wood groaning under his weight. Having no weapon to surrender, Genedara sat there, hands in lap, waiting patiently for the others to finish their meals.

“So what’s the plan? That’s one hell of a walk,” Kylona asked after finishing her sandwich.

“Walk?” Genedara asked before chuckling. “You may walk but I will be teleporting us there. Much faster and easier this way.”

“Hold on a tic,” Kallard said with a smirk. “You’re telling me our new sister can teleport us places? Folks, looks like we are done walking everywhere.”

“You would be correct. I can teleport us to pretty much anywhere in the world should the need ever arise. But I will not be teleporting people just because you don’t want to look for an alternative method of transportation. Teleportation is tiring and can be dangerous if your calculations aren’t perfect.”

“Eh, no biggie. We’re all used to hoofing it everywhere,” Kylona chimed in. “Anyway, go get ready. We’ll meet here in ten minutes before heading out. Sound good?”

“Indeed,” Genedara said in agreement with a nod of her head. “See you in ten.”

---

Cassian was the first to step out of the portal that had formed in the Dead Scar. Kylona, Marilini and Kallard were the next to follow with Genedara ending the procession. Once she had stepped through the threshold the portal snapped closed and winked out of sight without a sound. The group stood there in collective awe when they saw the result of Arthas’ march north.

The Dead Scar stretched for as for as they could see, running the entire length of Quel’thalas and continuing through the water and onto the Isle of Quel’thalas. Death hung in the air, the feeling of corruption ever present, ever twenty years later. Off in the distance figures shuffled around, their movements sluggish and without purpose. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was the remains of some poor unfortunate Quel’dorei who had lost their lives at some point after their homeland had been ruined.

Without a word Genedara started walking north and past what remained of Silvermoon’s city walls. The Felmann’s watched the elf slowly make her way toward her old home before moving to follow her. The air was heavy with the scent of death, an ever present reminder of what had transpired here two decades ago. There was evidence of a massive explosion right where the city walls had been, several bodies having been reduced to ash and forever staining the golden stone walls and buildings.

Despite the obvious danger of undead there wasn’t a single guard or soldier anywhere to be seen. In fact, since the group had arrived they hadn’t seen a single person. While most kingdoms were rife with activity and people going about their lives, Quel’thalas was a complete and total ghost town. There was no hustle and bustle of a busy market nor did the cries of playing children ring out throughout the city.

Silence was the only thing that greeted them.

“My god,” Kylona muttered under her breath as she took in what remained of a once proud and strong nation. “I knew things were bad here but I never imagined it would still look like this. Where is everyone?”

“Most of my people died that day. When Arthas attacked we had believed our walls and gates would keep intruders out. Were it not for the actions of one mad man Silvermoon would still be intact. Instead the traitor opened the gates and welcomed our end with a smile and open arms.”

“Kal, Cass and I were in Stratholme when Arthas attacked,” Marilini said quietly. “SI:7 had caught wind of something running afoul in the northern kingdoms and dispatched the three of us. When we figured out what was going on Cass flew back to HQ.”

“You guys got out through the sewers, right?” Kylona asked, looking over at Mari as the group slowly moved through the ruins.

“Yeah. Barely made it out alive,” Kallard said softly. “I am not a religious man, but I pray that this never happens again.”

The group would go quiet once more, the heavy topic weighing heavily on their minds. The deeper they moved into what remained of Silvermoon the more skeletons they saw mixed in with the black soil. Blades succumbing to rust were scattered about like discarded toys waiting to be played with again after being ignored for years. One of the more common sights was red and gold helmets with their wearer’s skull still tucked away, safe from further harm.

After ten minutes of walking the group found themselves standing before a tower that loomed overhead. A large whole and been punched in the top floor, the remains of an open living space visible from street level. Genedara stared at the building with her heart bounding in her chest. She didn’t need sight to know what she was standing in front of. This was once her home, a place that had housed her family for centuries only for one crazed human to take it all away from her.

“Hey, you okay?” Kylona asked as she approached Genedara. “We can go if you don’t want to do this. Could always try on a different day.”

“No, it’s okay,” Genedara replied, her voice barely a whisper.

Without waiting for the others, the elf stepped through the open door. A beam of sunlight cut through the darkened room, broken shards of glass glittering on the marble tiles that made up the first floor of the once beautiful tower. It looked as if someone had torn through the building, looking anything of value. A cabinet had been smashed open and the expensive dinnerware that was once inside was now long gone with only a single teacup remaining.

“Wow,” Cassian gasped as he entered the ruins of the tower. “This must have been beautiful back in its prime. I knew Quel’dorei architecture was nice but this is like artwork, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

In drifted a Mana Wyrm, having floated in through an open window. The small creature ignored the group as it drifted around the room giving off a faint blue glow. Kallard and Kylona watched the beast with pure amazement, having never seen one in person before. Marilini was too busy poking through the remains of a shattered bookshelf, pulling aside planks of wood to try and find anything of use. Cassian watched the Wyrm float about before turning his attention back to Genedara, concern visible in his golden gaze.

“I had a piano in this room,” Genedara muttered as she looked over at a comfortable looking bench laying on its side next to another busted bookshelf. Sheets of paper littered the floor, the notes on the pages faded with time spent in the sun over a long period of time. From the looks of it, the piano was mostly used to play classical Quel’dorei music with a few Human composers tossed in for good measure.

“What was your favorite piece?” Marilini asked, glancing back at the elf.

“Flight of the Bumblebee,” Genedara replied without hesitation.

“Oh-ho, we have a sister with TASTE!” Cassian said with a chuckle. “Gods, I’ve had to endure the sounds of Jazz for decades. Please tell me you still have some records back at the tower.”

“For the last time!” Kallard shouted, looking back at his husband. “Jazz is the superior form of music. Embrace the chaos babe!”

“Ugh,” Cassian groaned with a roll of his eyes. “See what I mean? Barbarians! So uncivilized.”

Genedara glanced back at the others with a somber expression on her face. The only one who seemed to notice this was Cassian, who after so many years being married to Kallard knew when someone was more upset than they let on. He watched as she looked back at the empty space where the piano had been, a soft sigh pressing past her lips. She then looked up and around as if trying to find the source of a sound only she could hear.

“I think anything of value has been taken already,” Marilini said as she rose from a squat, having been poking around one of the ruined bookshelves in the room. “Was there a hidden room anywhere?”

“Yes, there was,” Genedara replied, pointing over at the westernmost wall. “There’s a switch hidden behind the portrait there.”

Marilini walked over to where the elf had pointed and carefully lifted the faded painting off its hook, gently setting it down on the ground. She brought her hands up and carefully inspected the area, eventually finding the hidden switch and depressing it with a soft click. The wall to her left rumbled and shook before a section of the wall slid off to the side, revealing a winding set of stairs that led under the ruins of the tower.

“Kal, you’re better and finding useful literature,” his sister said, turning to look at her brother. “Come with me. Ky, you and Cass stay up here and keep and eye on Gene.”

“Roger that,” Kallard grunted as he set down what was left of a statue of Prince Kael’thas. He would then follow his sister down the once hidden flight of stairs, vanishing into the dark and out of sight after a few steps down.

“You doing okay?” Kylona asked Genedara, standing next to the elf.

“Coming here was a mistake,” was all the elf could get out, her voice soft and barely audible.

“If this is too much for you we can go outside,” Cassian added, placing a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “There’s no shame in leaving. I understand how difficult this must be for you.”

Before Genedara could say anything both Kylona and Cassian froze in place. Their bodies were completely still, almost as if someone had stopped the flow of time, cementing everyone in place. She looked around, more concerned than confused. Could it be that the entity had recovered? Was He ready to bring forth his revenge?

“Hello?” the elf called out. “Is there someone here besides us?”

“There is,” came a familiar voice from another room.

Genedara gasped when she heard a man’s voice come from what used to be her kitchen. Her body slowly turned to face where the noise had come from, swallowing her fear and steadying herself for whatever horrors lay just out of sight. She cautiously made her way over to the open archway, crossing the threshold and seemingly stepping into a completely different building altogether.

Suddenly the room was brightly lit by the sun’s light, the smell of fresh bread hanging in the air. The sounds of birds native to the area could be heard outside while a group of children played in the city streets. Seated at a cherry wood table sat a man with his back to Genedara. His long, blonde hair was pulled into a casual ponytail. The long ears that were typical for his species held an assortment of golden earrings and diamond studs, many of them gifts from Genedara. She didn’t need the man to turn around to know who he was.

The man seated at the table was her husband.

“Kath’lien,” Genedara gasped as she took a step forward. “Is that you?”

The man set down a cup of hot coffee, a light brown color due to the dash of milk, and turned around. Brilliant blue eyes settled on the other elf, a warm smile spread across his lips. Upon seeing his wife he rose from his seat and pulled her into a tight, loving embrace. That was all it took for Genedara to break down into tears, burying her face in her husband’s chest and loudly sobbed.

“Hello my love,” Kath’lien said, his voice soft and comforting. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has been so hard without you,” Genedara managed to get out between sobs, holding a fistful of her husband’s shirt in one hand. “I’m so lost without you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” came his reply, whispering in her ear. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Kath’lien took Genedara by the hand and guided her over to the table. He pulled a chair out for her to sit in and once she was settled he took a seat next to her. A cup of coffee appeared in front of her, made just the way she liked it. The sounds of children playing grew louder, drawing the attention of Genedara. She looked out the kitchen window and into the street her estate once sat on.

“Are they here too?”

“They are.”

“When can I see them?”

“When we’re done talking,” Kath’lien said, placing a hand on his wife’s. “I know how badly you want to see them but I wanted to speak with you alone first.”

“That’s just the thing, how are we talking?”

“I called in a favor or two,” came his reply, a confident smirk spreading across his features.

“A favor?”

“I can’t really say how, but yes, I asked a few god-like beings for a favor. The attendants in the Shadowlands have been quite accommodating now that the Jailer has been taken care of. But, the catch is that this is the only time they will allow us to talk before you join us.”

“Okay,” Genedara said with a nod of her head before taking a sip of coffee. “Whatever it is you have to say must be important.”

“You can win against it,” Kath’lien said, getting right to the point. “It is not as invulnerable as it claims. Long, long ago its enemies managed to kill off their entire population while He was busy elsewhere. The magic is ancient and powerful. I can point you in the right direction but the rest is up to you and the Felmann family. Only with their help can you beat it.

“You must not stop fighting, my love. Do not give up. Do not surrender. Show this thing the power that lies within you. Show it the power of our people and our allies. You must show it that Azeroth is not to be trifled with. YOU are not to be trifled with. You are Genedara Runestrider and it’s time it knew how strong you really are.

“Seek out the Naaru. Seek their guidance and learn from them what you can. Their power is similar to that of its enemies and is the only way of killing it. When you cleansed the Felmann twins you rid them of the taint left behind the Sha and Him. They will be your weapons in this war. Together you can beat it. I know you can. You’re my wife and you are STRONG. I have the utmost faith in you, sweetheart.”

Genedara took a moment to take in her husband’s words. She hadn’t been aware of any previous corruption on the twin’s end and found herself relieved that she didn’t have to worry about the twins losing their minds again. Then, once her thoughts had been organized she turned to face her husband and pulled him into a tight embrace. She dried her tears on his tunic, watching the street outside, eager to see her children for the first time in twenty years.

Almost as if they could read their mother’s thoughts, the children outside came clattering into the house. They tossed aside the toys they had been playing with, running through the main living space and into the kitchen. Three little elves burst into the room and swarmed around their mom, small arms wrapping around her legs and torso. Kath’lien joined the tiny elves and wrapped his arms around his wife.

For the first time in two decades Genedara was truly happy.

---

“What happened?” Kallard asked as he came flying out of the tower’s secret basement with Marilini close behind him.

“I don’t know,” Cassian replied without looking back at his husband. “One second she was standing there and then the next she’s on the ground unconscious.”

“She said someone’s name and just dropped down,” Kylona added. She sat on the ground with Genedara’s head in her lap while Cassian checked her body for more injuries. When he pulled up the elf’s shirt everyone let out a collective gasp upon seeing the state her wound was in.

The bandages had been soaked through with blood, most of it fresh. It appeared as if a couple stitches had broken but that was not the main concern. The flesh was inflamed and hot to the touch with black ink-like features arcing away from the wound like lightning. It was almost as if the toxins left over from the poison had grown stronger thanks to the latent shadow magics that permeated the land they currently stood on.

“Fuck, she picked one hell of a time to black out,” Marilini muttered as she ran over to one of the open windows, peering out into the empty street outside. “The only good part about this is that we’re in a dead part of Silvermoon. I don’t think anyone is going to be coming here any time soon.”

“That doesn’t matter. We’re stuck behind Horde lines with no weapons, no armor and no medicine. She needs to wake up and take us home or else we’re all fucked. What are they going to say when three former SI:7 agents are seen carrying a wounded elf out of the city?” Kylona asked as panic began to set in.

“Please tell me you guys found something downstairs,” Cassian said, looking at the twins.

“Yeah, I found a bunch of books,” Marilini said, setting down a leather sack next to the fallen elf. “Found this bag of holding down there as well. Whatever we found before you called us is in there. I just hope it was something useful. Kinda hard to figure out what’s good when it’s all in Thalassian.”

“Hey, Savant,” Kallard pleaded the fallen elf. “Wake up. You can’t go all useless on us now. You’re our ride out of here!”

“Ugh,” groaned Genedara as her eyes fluttered open. “Just… Place a hand on me,” she managed to get out before closing her eyes once more.

Without asking what she meant, Kallard and Marilini ducked down and each placed a hand on the elf while Cassian and Kylona did the same. One moment they were all seated on the ground in what remained of Gene’s estate and the next they were inside the Felmann’s main tent outside her tower in Elwynn Forest. Cassian and Marilini went right to work, stripping the elf of her shirt and tossing it aside while Kylona ran into the tower to fetch Gene’s healing supplies.

Kallard plopped down in a chair next to the elf’s bed, watching his husband and sister work. He had only known Genedara for a few days but could feel himself growing attached. She was the only one who knew the pain of losing someone you deeply loved and because of that he felt the urge to protect her like a good big brother, despite her being two centuries old. The fact that she threw her life away to save his life spoke volumes about her character and he wanted nothing more than normality to return to her life.

Once Cassian and Marilini finished tending to Genedara’s wounds, Kallard remained by her side. After a while he had Kylona go fetch a book to read from the tower. Rather than reading it to himself, Kallard instead read it aloud to the unconscious elf. He read her the story of a soldier who refused to carry a weapon and the lives he saved as a result of his bravery and love for his fellow man.

When Genedara finally woke up the sun was beginning to drift below the horizon as dusk set in. Kallard had fallen asleep after finishing the story, the book propped open in his lap. Everyone else was seated around a fire outside the tent, talking quietly amongst themselves. Eventually Kallard’s eyes drifted open and he let loose a mighty yawn before looking at Genedara.

“Whoa, hey, you’re awake,” he said with a tired smile.

“And so are you,” was her soft reply.

“You feeling any better?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Good,” Kallard said as he rose from his seat, placing the book down on his chair once he had stood up. “C’mon, let’s go get something to eat.”

Kallard offered a hand to Genedara, allowing her to use him to get out of bed. She let out a sharp hiss of pain, her left hand falling down to rest on the freshly tended to wound. Seeing this, Kal hooked his arm with one of hers and slowly guided her out into the cool night air.

“Ahah, there she is!” Cassian said with a broad smile as he quickly rose to his feet, offering his seat to Gene. “Here, sit.”

“Thank you,” Genedara said quietly and eased herself into the pre-warmed chair and settled into it. “Whats for dinner?”

“Fish and chips,” Marilini replied as she prepped a plate. “I caught the fish myself and Ky did the potatoes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Did I mention it’s deep fried fish?”

Genedara chuckled and shook her head. “Okay, I’m sold, I’ll take a helping.”

For the next couple hours the group would talk among themselves, keeping the conversation casual without bringing up the whole trip to Silvermoon. They all knew Genedara would talk when she was ready. Neither of them knew exactly what happened, but they were able to see a glimmer of hope in the elf’s eyes, almost as if she had a conversation with her guardian angel. Regardless of what had happened, the Felmanns were more than happy to ease their sister’s concerns.

[genedara]

A Truly Selfless Act

((The following contains subject material that may be triggering/upsetting to some. Themes included graphic and intense violence, horrific imagery, mention of sexual assault/rape. Read at your own discretion.))

“Are you two ready?” Genedara asked, looking at both Cassian and Kylona. “There’s no turning back once we start this. Either we accomplish what we came to do or we die.”

“Gee, you’re sure good inspiring your troops before battle,” Kylona muttered with a roll of her eyes. “Let’s do this.”

“Hey, I’ve heard worse speeches,” Cassian said, smiling down at Ky before turning his attention to Genedara. “I’m ready. Let’s go get our family back.”

---

Since the twins had been kidnapped the remaining Felmann family members worked tirelessly to find them. While Cassian and Kylona were tearing apart both Elwynn Forest and Duskwood Genedara was busy at work finalizing the spell that would draw in and trap the Thing inside her. She saw no other alternative after scouring through the memories the Thing had left behind. Throughout the Thing’s long lifespan not a single person or group found a way to effectively kill it. Some had managed to weaken it long enough to seal it away in a box locked away in the depths of a place called the Heavens.

“He won’t make this easy,” Genedara had told Cassian and Kylona. “While our goal is to save the twins, theirs is to kill us. To ensure no one accidentally kills one of them I will be blunting the blades of your weapons. Oh, and please, avoid any blows to the head. Your friends won’t be of any use to you when they’re concussed and seizing on the floor.”

“What are we supposed to do, then?” Kylona had asked the elf.

“Distract them. Keep them busy. No matter what you do they cannot get to me. Once I start the spell there is no way for them to break it outside of killing me. There is a high possibility that the twins will ignore you two while making great efforts to stop me. I advise putting an anti-magic collar on each of them to keep Him from using any spells.”

“Seems simple enough,” Cassian remembered saying. “How long is this spell going to take to cast?”

“A couple minutes at the most. Most of the prep work is done already so it’s just a matter of drawing in enough mana to pull this off.”

“Are you capable of doing this alone?” asked Kylona.

“While you two were busy looking for the twins I was busy prepping the spell. Every day for the last two weeks I have poured most of my power into my staff,” Genedara told the two, motioning over at her quarterstaff composed of a shiny, silver-like metal. “The core is filled with crystals and other various reagents. There’s more than enough power contained within it to allow me to cast such a complex and powerful spell.”

“And you’re not going to fuck us over, are you?” Kylona asked, looking into Genedara’s milky white eyes. “Because if you plan on betraying us I won’t hesitate to slit your throat. I say this not as a threat, but as a promise. Fuck us and you die. We clear?”

“Abundantly clear. Now, are you done wishing me bodily harm or can I continue planning on how to save your friends?”

“They wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t paid us a visit. Things were fine before you reared your pretty little head,” Kylona snapped, glaring at the elf. “If this had happened to anyone else I wouldn’t stop that thing from tearing you apart.”

“Ky, that’s enough. You’re starting to sound like Kal,” Cassian told her, place a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get them back.”

---

Genedara took a deep breath and allowed her eyes to close. She held both of her hands out, each one hovering over a pair of weapons held by either Kylona or Cassian. The air shimmered as a spell was cast, each weapon rendered non-lethal. The revolvers the Felmann family all carried stayed in their respective holsters, neither Cassian or Kylona wanting to rid themselves of their strongest weapon. They both didn’t want to use the firearms but knew it would be foolish not to carry them should things go south.

Now that their blades were dull the trio slowly made their way through the darkened forest of Duskwood. They approached what remained of a wooden cabin to the south, having discovered that the twins were hiding in the basement. A week into their search Kylona had caught a glimpse of the twins trekking through Duskwood with a small group of assorted men and women, leading her to this very spot. The Thing was up to something and they all knew it. The time had come to put an end to whatever machinations the Thing was up to.

“KALLARD!” Genedara shouted, amplifying her voice with the use of magic. “Cease these games and face us! Either you both come our or I start dropping bombs. Make your choice.”

“Wait, bombs? What bombs?” Kylona asked, keeping behind the elf. “You never mentioned anything about bombs!”

Ignoring the girl, Genedara stared at what remained of the cabin. She slowly inhaled and let the cool night air fill her lungs. Several of the runes the elf kept secret flared to life, giving off a brilliant blue glow. The elf raised a single hand and let it hang there for a moment before tearing the hand downward and balled it into a fist. Cassian drew his sword and shield, taking up position in front of Kylona, standing before her, blocking her body with his own. Both him and the girl took up fighting positions, a look of cool composure washing over their features.

The elf brought her right leg up and stomped the ground as her hand made its descent. A red flame consumed her hand as giant, flaming boulders dropped from the heavens. Several of the rocks punched through the decaying cabin’s wooden remains as if it weren’t there, their impacts felt through the ground beneath their feet. Cassian and Kylona watched in awe as Genedara made fire rain down from the sky, her hatred towards the Thing fueling her magic.

“You better pray they didn’t get squished,” Kylona muttered.

“I could drop the moon down on them and they’d still come out alive,”Genedara replied, glancing back at the little warrior. “You need to stop underestimating Him and His power. Your friends are essentially demigods right now. If my spells don’t work I don’t see any of us walking away from this in one piece.”

Before Kylona could open her mouth to reply the group all witnessed a hand trust itself towards the sky as the dust settled. Kallard crawled out of what remained of the cabin, Marilini appearing at his side. The twins wore confident smirks and started advancing towards Genedara and the remaining Felmann family members.

(( Recommended listening: https://youtu.be/5MfYp3WMmdc?si=99FSOIf88O6yGrHE ))

“Alright, this is it!” Genedara shouted at the other two. “Remember the plan! We can do this, I kn—” Something let loose a bestial roar, cutting Genedara off mid word. She took a nervous step backwards as the ground started to rumble and shake.

The smell of decaying meat hit their noses the same moment dozens of men, women and children spilled out of the darkness. Their bodies were in varying states of decay, some people missing entire limbs where as others looked to be fresh kills. They all had matching shiny, silver eyes filled with mania and blood lust. The zombies roared as they charged forward, their bodies animated with necrotic magics. In the blink of an eye the swarm was within arms reach, their filthy hands hungry for flesh.

“Holy shit!” Cassian cried out and swept his sword from left to right. “This wasn’t in the plan!”

“No shit!” Kylona shouted back.

The two warriors closed in and stood in front of Genedara, assuming she was incapable of fighting in close quarters. The elf muttered hastily under her breath, quickly undoing the spell that blunted the blades the Felmanns carried. When Cassian left himself open Kylona swept in and covered the holes in his defenses, deftly cutting the head off one zombie. Genedara on the other hand was flinging spell after spell with apparent ease. The runes on her arms and hands gave off a brilliant baby blue glow as the elf expertly wove the mana around her and inside of her.

While the trio was busy defending themselves against a seemingly endless swarm of undead, the twins made a slow advancement forward. Their smirks grew and warped, eventually morphing into an unfriendly smile that seemed to match the dread that radiated from them. The crowd of zombies largely ignored the twins, their only focus on the three living people in front of them. The swarm wanted nothing more than to tear the trio apart and feast upon their entrails.

“How did we not know about this?” Kylona shouted at Genedara as she cut the head off a naked woman.

“You can’t plan for everything, Shortstack,” Cassian called out in reply as he swung low, slicing a horribly decayed woman in two before jamming the tip of his sword into her forehead.

“Quit complaining and focus on the task at hand,” Genedara snapped as she flung a spice of ice at the torso of a zombie. The foot long bolt drove itself deep in the undead man’s chest before exploding, sending large chunks of rotten flesh in ever direction.

The twins continued their slow advance, their undead companions swarming in and around the pair, pushing and shoving their way over to the trio. Despite their obvious advantage, the undead were being dispatched at an alarming rate, the soldiers tearing through wave after wave of shambling corpses. In less than a minute a pile of corpses started to build up around the survivors. Thick, black ooze gushed from the fresh wounds, mixing with the dirt to create a sickening smelling sludge.

“Don’t stop!” Kylona shouted while swinging her sword in an arc. The woman’s blade swept through a half naked older male and cut a small zombie’s head in two before getting stuck in a third corpse’s neck. Blood squirted from the wound, spraying Ky with a crimson mist.

“Don’t listen to her,” Kallard shouted over the sounds of war. “Drop your blades and cease your spell casting. Come, join us. Give into His love and become one with Him.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Kylona grunted as she tore her blade free. “Do not relent! Keep pushing!”

The trio continued their fight until the last zombie hit the ground. The battlefield was littered with dismembered limbs, heads and various internal organs. Some of the undead were still moving but incapable of doing any harm. A severed hand dragged itself towards Cassian only to be squished under his boot. With the immediate threat gone, Kylona and Cassian took up positions in front of Genedara, putting themselves between her and the twins.

“It’s over, Kallard. Drop your weapons. Let’s talk this out,” Cassian pleaded. “Please, don’t force us to hurt you.”

The twins laughed in unison as they came to a halt a few feet from the two warriors. But, despite their confidence, a single tear ran down Kallard’s cheek as his body moved on its own. He brought his sword up and pointed it at the Paladin, that cocky smirk of his never fading. Ever observant, Cassian watched the small display of humanity shine through the darkness that had consumed the twins.

“This isn’t the man I married, nor is this the woman who adopted Kylona. You both have such kindness in you. Don’t let this thing win,” Cassian told the twins.

“The twins are dead,” the two said in harmony. “Only I remain.”

“Bullshit,” Kylona spat. “C’mon, Mari. Is this what you want? Do you really want to let this thing win? What ever happened to the woman who killed a bunch of men after they raped me? Where’s that justice now?”

“Your words are meaningless,” the twins said, their voices slightly out of sync.

“Bullshit!” Kylona snapped back. “Mari, what are the wolves going to do with you gone? Those two wolves are miserable without you. Don’t give up on them. Don’t give up on us.”

The twins came to a halt and a vacant look washed over their features. Kallard’s eyes twitched and his head jerked from side to side. It looked as if they were struggling to free themselves from the grasp of a snake squeezing the life out of them. Their muscles bulged and veins rose to the surface of their flesh, eyes narrowed in concentration. Upon seeing this Genedara perked up and urged Cassian and Kylona to continue talking to the twins.

“Keep talking to them,” she said, looking between the twins and their family.

“Kallard, is this really what you want? You went back in time to save me! You broke every rule there is to get me back and now you’re just going to let this thing kill me? You need to fight this! Our love transcend time itself and I’ll be damned if I’m going to watch my husband become a monster! You’re going to fight this, dammit! FIGHT!”

“S-silence!” Marilini screamed in a deep masculine voice. “Cease your games!”

“Fuck,” Kallard gasped. “You. Let us go!”

“NO! You belong to me! Together we will bring a new world order! All who oppose us will perish and I’ll finally have the power to bring my people back. Your words are meaningless!”

While Cassian and Kylona kept the twins distracted, Genedara was busy casting a myriad of spells. The first was to bind her in place, magical chains keeping her tethered in place and making movement impossible. Despite having known the Felmanns for only a few days the elf put her life in the hands of the two soldiers, relying entirely on them to keep her from dying. Once the first spell had been cast she moved onto the second binding spell but did not finish it, leaving the spell hanging as she moved onto a different school of magic all together.

“Kallard, do you remember the day we got married? We had just finished boot camp and Mari was busy stuffing her face with chocolates. You dropped down to one knee and presented me with the cheapest ring you could find and said you’d rather die than be without me. Is that man still in there? I know he is. Our love is strong and I’ll fight to the bitter end to save you my love.”

“CEASE YOUR GA—” Marilini started to shout. Before she could continue her vague threat, the woman dropped down to to her knees and clutched her head with both hands. A pained groan pressed past her clenched jaw as she pushed against an invisible force holding her down. “Let. Me. Go.”

Kallard’s head snapped over to look directly at Genedara as he finally noticed the large amounts of mana the elf was building up inside of her. From underneath her clothes a brilliant baby blue glow could be seen. It appeared as if every runic tattoo etched into her flesh was alight and charged with raw mana. As the continued to draw more and more into her body the twins appeared to grow more agitated.

“NO!” Kallard boomed, his eyes wide with panic. “No, no, not their magic. NO! I WILL NOT BE BOUND!”

Genedara stood her ground and continued to work, too focused on her spell casting to worry about the ramblings of a madman. Before anyone could stop him, Kallard let loose a roar laced with fury and shot towards the elf. He roughly shoved Cassian off to the side and pushed past Kylona. His short sword was drawn back and then driven deep into Genedara’s abdomen. The tip of the blade was thrust forward and through the elf’s body, forcing its way through a kidney and out her back. She cried out in agony and squeezed her eyes shut, pushing past the agonizing pain rushing through her body.

“Shit!” Kylona gasped and spun around, trying to pull Kallard off of the Mage.

“Too… Late,” Genedara whispered in Kallard’s ear. “I win.”

The air around the elf shimmered with magic as eight golden lances formed around Kallard in a circle, evenly spread out with equal gaps between each lance. The magical weapons were then pulled inward and into the bodies of the twins. While there was no physical sign of injury, the spell did seem to agitate the being possessing the twins even further. The creature’s fury bled outward, seeping into the minds of the three survivors.

Kallard tried to pull himself away from Genedara, seemingly frozen in place. Marilini would start to scream in pain as a dense, black cloud burst forth from her open mouth. The man’s rage grew, his hands reaching out and wrapping around the elf’s neck. He squeezed with all of his might, cramming his thumbs into her wind pipe in an effort to stop her from casting more spells.

“I will not be beaten by the likes of you!” he shouted in the elf’s face, spraying her with droplets of saliva. “Entire worlds have risen against me only to fall in the end. You cannot stop me! You cannot kill me!”

“What makes you think I’m trying to kill you?” Genedara asked the twins with the last of her air in her lung.

Kallard’s eyes went wide when it dawned on him as to what the lances were actually doing. The cloud of smoke that had left Marilini shot over to Genedara and forced its way into her body through any means possible. Her entire body began to spasm, held in place by Kallard. A chain composed entirely of magic formed between the elf and Kallard, binding the spirit within him to Genedara, effectively trapping it within her body.

What remained of the creature was sucked out of Kallard and into the elf. He finally released her, letting Genedara fall to the ground before falling over backwards. Marilini ceased her screaming and drooped forward before falling unconscious. Kylona dropped her weapon and ran over to keep Mari from cracking her head open on a stone while Cassian dropped down to Kallard’s side.

“’M fine,” Kallard said weakly, waving a hand in the elf’s direction. “Go help her.”

The last thing Genedara remembered hearing was Cassian speaking softly to her, praising her for her selflessness and bravery. While she was unable to see his face, she was able to hear the smile in his voice. Before she lost herself to fatigue, Genedara muttered the final word in the spell she had paused prior to trapping the thing within her. With the final power word spoken a series of chains sprung forth from the ground and wrapped themselves around the elf like a python constricting its pray. But, rather than kill her, the chains sealed themselves around her and vanished from view. It was then she lost consciousness, falling limp in Cassian’s arms.

---

One week later…

Genedara could feel the sun on her body as she lay in an unfamiliar bed. All around her she could hear the songbirds singing their lovely songs, the world seemingly at peace with itself. Her eyes fluttered open and she slowly sat up, wincing as a lance of pain shot through her torso. A hand fell down to her abdomen and gently landed where Kallard had impaled her. A jolt of anxiety rocked through her upon realizing the wound hadn’t been healed.

The sound of fabric rustling could be heard to Gene’s left. Her head snapped over to look in the general direction of the intruder. She tried to call upon her magics but found herself unable to do so. Her other hand reached up and gently tugged on the metal collar shackled around her neck. Whoever had entered the tent gasped and dropped what sounded like a bucket of water.

“Whoa shit! Cass, she’s awake!” Kylona could be heard shouting as she ran back out of the tent. “Cass!”

Well, that answered the question as to where she was.

“You’re finally awake,” Cassian said with a smile as he entered the elf’s tent. “I was started to get worried you weren’t going to wake up.”

“Did it work? Are the twins safe?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Kallard said from behind Cassian.

“Oh, you are?” Marilini could be heard asking her brother. “You’re still fucked in the head.”

“Fuck off.”

Cassian stepped closer to Genedara and reached out with both hands. He muttered a spell under his breath, unlocking the anti-magic collar strapped around the elf’s neck. With a soft clink the device opened and dropped down into her lap. Cassian silently took the collar and placed it on a small bedside table.

Genedara couldn’t help but smile at the reaction of the Felmann family. With her magic restored, she looked between the four humans and was surprised that there wasn’t an ounce of hostility in any of them. They all wore clean casual clothes without a weapon in sight. For the first time it looked as if Kallard was actually smiling at her, a look of respect on the war hardened veteran’s face.

“I’m glad,” Genedara said with a bob of her head.

“But, there is a bit of bad news,” Cassian replied softly as he took a seat at the foot of the elf’s bed. “The blade you were stabbed with was poisoned. I was able to rid your body of most of the toxins, but it seems the main effect is slowly down the rate at which the wound will heal.”

“How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad. You’re down to one kidney. I had to surgically remove the damaged one so you’re going to have to change your diet to adapt. And, due to the nature of the poison used any attempt to tend to the wound with Light magic only caused more harm,” Cassian replied in a soft voice, placing a comforting hand on Genedara’s knee.

“We worked with some Druids during the third war that I’ve reached out to,” Kallard chimed in. “While most of them are busy with the new world tree, one of them is willing to swing by and take a look at the wound. He’ll need a couple days to shake off the Dream before he arrives. My hope is that the wound is only resistant to Light magics.”

“I appreciate the help you and your family is offering,” Genedara said with a respectful bow of her head.

“We’ve served with a lot of people in our time,” Marilini said from Genedara’s side. “But none of them have done what you did for us. Now that we know what was really behind your actions in the past, I want to say for all of us that we forgive you. You weren’t in control and thus cannot be blamed for hurting us and others.”

“Yeah, that was some serious hero type shit,” Kallard added.

“I was just doing what I felt was right,” Genedara said softly. “It is what my husband would have done.”

“I can say, without a doubt in mind that he looks down at you with pride in his heart,” Cassian said, giving the elf’s knee a comforting squeeze.

“So, with that said, I have a question for you,” Kallard stuck his hand out. “Do you wanna join us?”

“Join you? What do you mean?”

“What the big oaf is trying to say,” Kylona replied, playfully punching Kallard’s shoulder. “Is that we want you to join our family.”

“Even after everything that’s happened?”

“Lady, you just tore an evil being out of my sister and I and trapped it inside your body. You didn’t do this for yourself. You didn’t even do this for us. You did this for the betterment of the world itself and I refuse to let that kind of strength and talent go to waste. Join our family and we can work together to figure out a permanent solution to this problem so you can live a normal life again,” Kallard calmly said.

Genedara went silent for a moment as she through the proposal over. It was true, she would need help keeping the beast contained. Such a task is possible alone but easier with the help and support of others. For the briefest of moments she could feel the comforting presence of her husband and children as a warmth that spread through her body. Tears welled up in her eyes as the elf nodded in agreement.

“Okay. I will join your family.”

The Felmanns all let loose a collective cheer and applause.

“But I have a condition. I cannot live a tent. My tower isn’t far from here and there’s more than enough room for you and your belongings.”

“Shit, we get a new ally and a tower to live in? Yeah, I’m down,” Kylona said with a smirk.

“As am I,” Marlini added with a warm smile. “Welcome to the family, sister.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Kallard chimed in, offering a fist to Genedara to bump.

“You all know I’m okay with this,” Cassian replied.

The remaining four members all bumped their fists against Kallard’s, Genedara included. With the new addition to the family, the Felmanns would spend the rest of the day getting to know their new sister. While she normally was a very reserved and private person, Genedara found no issue in retelling her traumatic past to these people, knowing that they would understand her pain. Tears were shed and drinks were had and at the end of the night, the Felmann family drank and celebrated.

For the first time in a long time, the Felmann family was at peace.

[genedara]

What was and what will be

There’s nothing…

I know.

“What did you do to the twins?” Genedara asked the Thing. She stared the abomination down, arms crossed over her chest. The two of them were staring at each other on the top floor of the elf’s personal tower. The Thing wore the guise of the demon woman, a cocky smirk spread across her lips.

“We’re borrowing them,” the two said in unison, their voices overlapping each other.

“That’s great. Give them back to their family. Now.”

The demon woman laughed, shook her head and said, “No.”

“Why? What could you possibly want with them?” Genedara asked.

“We don’t have to explain anything to you,” the woman said as she started to pace around the room. “They will serve their purpose just like you.”

“What is their purpose? Do you really need another host to do your murdering in, or is this a fetish for you?”

“I DO NOT NEED TO EXPLAIN ANYTHING TO YOU, GIRL!” the demon woman screamed. The windows in the tower rattled in place and downstairs in the small kitchenette a couple of glasses fell off the counter, shattering the moment they hit the ground. Genedara shrunk into herself and took several steps backwards.

“Who the fuck are you to demand things from me? Who the fuck are you, hm?” the woman asked, turning to face Genedara. “You’re what, 900 years old? What have you accomplished in that time?”

Genedara opened her mouth to reply but instead clamped her jaw shut and continued to stare down the woman. She knew that most of her accomplishments were due to her parents standing in Quel’thalas society. It was true, she was one powerful Mage but there were others far stronger and smarter than her so she was by means not the best there was. The only thing that she had done herself was establishing herself in the Stormwind economy with her enchanting business.

“That’s what I thought,” the woman said with a shake of her head. “You’re nothing. A fucking nobody. They only redeeming quality is the trauma you faced in the past. That is the only thing keeping you alive.”

“Well, if I am nothing what does that make you? How are you any different than me?” Genedara asked, a hint of annoyance lingering in her voice.

“You dare mock me?!” the woman shouted as she charged forward, her wings unfolding as she moved. She closed the gap between the two women in the blink of an eye and grabbed Genedara by the throat, hoisting her off the ground. “I am Ralitha Moonfall, High Queen of Midgard, slayer of gods and conqueror of the Heavens! I am a goddess! Now kneel before me! FUCKING KNEEL!”

The final word uttered by the demon woman carried the weight of submission, forcing Genedara to obey. The elf dropped down to her knees and bowed forward, touching her forehead to the wooden floorboards. She hung there, her whole body trembling, unable to escape the rage that radiated from Ralitha. She could feel just how powerful this woman was, brief flashes of memories darting through the elf’s mind.

“You are an ant compared to us, Genedara Silverfury. In the grand scheme of things you are worthless to us. You are merely a vessel for Him. If you continue to disobey we will forcibly take control, pushing your consciousness off to the side. You will be forced to watch as He carves a bloody path through this pathetic world.”

“Whatever,” Genedara muttered, looking away from her tormentor. “Are you done? I have nothing else to add to this conversation.”

Ralitha snarled and dropped the elf, letting her crumple to the ground like dead weight. The two women glared at each other before the demonic woman stormed downstairs, eventually vanishing. That left Genedara alone and laying on the ground feeling utterly defeated. It felt as if every attempt to better her situation only made things worse.

Genedara stayed on the floor for some time. The minutes turned into hours and before she knew it the sun was setting and she was still on the floor. Any drive to get up and be productive went out the window when Ralitha made her appearance. On a typical day she would spend most of her time working away in the shop. But the last twenty four hours had been an absolute nightmare, making focusing on work nigh impossible. She considered the idea of going to Stormwind and walking around but the thought of being around others made her feel sick.

“You’re pathetic,” the Thing’s voice said in the depths of her mind. “Look at you laying on the floor. Did the First’s words wound you so severely you cannot drag yourself off the ground?”

“I am not your entertainment,” Genedara muttered. “Just kill me and be done with it.”

“You won’t get off that easy,” the Thing said, seeming to sound like He was right next to her. “You will not be the first host to fight me.”

“No, I’m not. But I will be the first host to kill you,” the elf snapped.

“So confident yet too weak to drag yourself off the ground. Maybe I made a mistake in choosing you.”

“You did make a mistake! At what point in my life did you think I’d make a good home for you and your psychopath groupies? I was a scholar and an educator, not some bloodthirsty adventurer or self proclaimed hero.”

“You remind me of someone,” the Thing said. He stood over Genedara, arms crossed over his broad chest covered in bone-like armor plating. His face shared features found in most of the bipedal humanoids on Azeroth save for the lack of eyes or eye sockets. A series of holes had been drilled into the plates of bone that covered most of his head but did not appear as a way for the creature to see. He loomed over the elf, standing roughly seven feet tall with strong musculature. Lacking any real flesh, the creature’s long, fang-like teeth were visible for the world to see.

“Yeah, right. I bet you knew a lot of people like me in your long, worthless existence.”

“If you do not cease your disrespectful attitude I will start removing body parts,” the Thing said, its sightless gaze never leaving the elf’s form. “Maybe I’ll take your hearing next. Or maybe I’ll rip one of your legs off and watch you hop around while you bleed to death.”

“Please, you’d be doing me a favor,” Genedara said and rolled onto her side, tired of looking up and seeing Him standing there.

The Thing bent over and grabbed the elf by her shoulders, forcing her up onto her feet. He brought his face down to be inches away from hers, looking very much like an angry parent about to scold their child. Genedara kept her eyes closed, not wanting to look at this new horrific visage the Thing had taken a liking to.

“I grow tired of your games, elf,” the Thing said, speaking to Genedara in her mind. “It is time. Time to end this. You will submit or face a fate worse than death.”

“I will never submit to you,” Genedara spat back.

“So be it. If you remain sane through this then maybe I will grant you some leeway as to how I treat you,” the Thing said, reaching out and placing a large hand on the elf’s head, sharp talons digging into her scalp. “It is time you see what I have seen. Feel what I have felt.”

“What are you tal-” Genedara started to say before cutting herself off.

A hot lance of pain shot into the elf’s mind, so intense she couldn’t help but scream in agony. She could feel herself being dragged through the Thing’s memories, witnessing eons of abuse and death. Several impossibly long lifetimes were spent inflicting pain wherever He went, leaving a trail of dead bodies in His wake. He pulled her deeper into His memories, showing her how He hopped from reality to reality whenever He grew bored or had been met with too much resistance.

Going back through time Genedara witnessed the reverse of the Big Bang, watching the universe shrink and shrink until she was floating in a vast, dark ocean without any light to guide her way. He did not stop there and continued to reveal more and more about His existence. In the vast sea of nothingness two planets formed, orbiting an uncharacteristic large white dwarf star.

For eons the two worlds existed in perfect harmony, each of their inhabitants careful not to overthrow the delicate balance of the known universe. One one world were beings composed entirely of light and energy while the other world was cloaked in a permanent night, its inhabitants just as dark as the world they lived on. The two races were two opposite sides of the spectrum, one representing Order and the other Chaos. For their universe to exist the two peoples had to live in harmony, otherwise everything they knew and loved would perish in an apocalyptic event.

But all good things must come to an end.

Eventually the beings of light grew tired of the games the darkness would play. Due to the nature of their very existence, the darkness fed on the negative energies the beings of light would emit when under intense stress. A great warrior, tired of the status quo, sought to end the darkness and bring light to an ungrateful universe. He aimed to eradicate their entire species just so his people could find a measure of peace.

The resulting war destroyed both planets. The beings of light were able to stick to their goals and eradicated the people of darkness. Or so they thought. The Thing, the last surviving member of his entire species had been gravely wounded in battle. Seeking to bring justice to those who slaughtered his kin, the sole survivor unleashed a devastating magical spell upon his enemies. Not only did He kill the survivors of the great war but He destroyed both worlds.

With the balance of life and death destroyed, the universe collapsed into itself. It folded in on itself until there was nothing but the Thing. He watched as a new universe was born from the ashes of the old one, all traces of his kin wiped clean from the history books. No one would know of His people’s suffering or the horrible spell He unleashed. As time went on, the Thing grew hungry. He turned on the new lifeforms that sprung up, once more feasting upon their negative energies.

Genedara fell to the ground and curled up into a ball, the Thing having dropped her when He was done showing her his past. She remained there for the rest of the evening, her brain struggling to comprehend seeing the death of two species, leading to the creation of a new universe. Is that all there was to life? Light and Dark, life and death. Was that truly all there was? She didn’t seem to care anymore, indifferent to the truth of all things.

And so Genedara carried on about her life as if nothing had happened. She now knew it was impossible to try and resist. And thanks to her actions two people were now missing, their family working tirelessly to try and save them. The elf was determined to help them, even if it meant her own death.

[genedara]

A Bad Idea

Run, run, run, run.

You haven’t changed anything yet. You haven’t changed their futures. You - you haven’t saved any of them.

Close your eyes, Bev.

Fuck you!

If you don’t believe, close them. And see.

((The following contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Themes included: graphic violence and scenes of disturbing imagery. Read at your own discretion.))

Genedara let out a soft sigh as she closed the front door to her store, Mystical Enchantments. She slid the bronze key into the lock and twisted it to the right, engaging the deadbolt and locking the door. The key was slipped into a pocket in her trousers and her other hand was pressed up against the door. A magic circle roughly three feet across flared to life as mana was pumped into it, activating the seal that kept her business safe from external threats, effectively raising a barrier around the building. With her store locked up tight Genedara pulled her folded up white cane and flicked it open. She turned to the right and started the short walk to a quiet spot near the Trade District, the preferred spot for her lunch break. The city was rife with activity today, the Trade District packed to the brim with adventures seeking out new gear for their journeys. Gene made her way through the crowds, sweeping her cane from side to side. Most people were aware enough to stay out of her way but occasionally someone would bump into her.

Eventually the crowds thinned out and Genedara was able to escape the hustle and bustle of a busy market. She walked parallel with the canal and stopped when she was at her favorite bench. A handkerchief was removed from a pocket that was used to wipe the bench off to avoid sitting in a puddle. Satisfied the bench was safe to sit on, she pocketed the handkerchief and sat down and set down her lunch box to her right.

“Nice part of town, isn’t it?” a woman asked, having approached Genedara without making a sound.

The elf let out an annoyed sigh, having hoped to avoid people until after she had eaten. Business had been booming as of late and as a result Genedara hadn’t had time to eat breakfast or lunch the past few days. Coupled with twelve hour days, she was running on fumes. She did her best to avoid sleep, fearing that if she were to lose consciousness the Thing would come out again. Ever since she had learned of the Thing living within her, Gene only slept in short bursts.

“Yes,” Gene snapped back. “Is there something I can do for you? I don’t have a lot of spare time and I’d rather be eating my lunch than providing small talk for a stranger.”

“Jeez, no need to be a bitch,” the woman said quietly. “I just wanted to talk with you. I figured we had a lot to talk about.”

“We have nothing to discuss,” Genedara said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Begone, I am hungry and not in the mood for whatever you want.”

“You can try to banish me,” the woman said in unison with a second, deeper voice. “But He has commanded I speak with you. I am going nowhere until I have said what needs to be said.”

Genedara snapped to attention, her body going rigid as she channeled Arcane magics through her body, activating her Arcane sight. Standing before her was a woman in her early twenties with light brown hair styled into a bob. She had brilliant yellow eyes and a set of horns growing from the sides of her head, a set of leathery wings folded up behind the stranger.

“Who is this? Why are you hiding in the guise of a Succubus?” Genedara asked the strange woman.

“A Succubus? As if. I’m more like you, you see. Same background. Dead kids, dead husband and oh woe is me,” the woman said, making a crying motion with her hands. “I am the First.”

“The first what?”

“The First. The first host. I found Him sealed away in the Heavens, a prisoner as old as time itself, the last of His people.”

“What do you want with me?” Genedara asked, abandoning all hope of eating her lunch.

“He knows what you’re doing. Or rather, what you’re trying to do,” the woman replied as she dropped down to a flat-footed squat. “He knows you’re trying to seal him away in a staff. He wanted me to tell you that it won’t work.”

Genedara sat there in stunned silence. She had hoped that the Thing wouldn’t be able to observe what she was doing while she was in control. She had assumed that everything would be okay so long as she didn’t fall asleep. It dawned on her that she was out of her league and was on a path of destruction rather than one of salvation. If He knew what she was doing, would it even be worth it to try? Is doing nothing to stop things really her only option?

“Won’t know until we try,” Gene said, trying to feign confidence. “Your friend may be strong but he has not faced anything like me before. I’ll learn your weaknesses. I have a long life ahead of me and have more than enough time to figure out a way to end you. I will not go down without a fight, that I can promise you.”

“Fight all you want,” the woman said with a shrug of her shoulders. “You wouldn’t be the first person to resist Him and you certainly won’t be the last. I admit, He is scary at first. I was scared too. Spend a few eons with Him and you’ll change your mind. Soon enough you’ll find comfort in his presence, just as we all did.”

“All? How many of you are there?” Genedara asked.

“Hundreds. Thousands. It’s hard to tell,” the other woman said with another shrug of her shoulders. “He’s been around for a long time and has met a lot of people who wanted to be apart of His journey. We are him and he is us. We are one.”

“And that is what is going to happen to me?”

“That depends,” came the woman’s reply as she stood back up, abandoning her squat. “Work with us and you will continue to live. Keep on resisting and he’ll return you to the state he found you in twenty years ago.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Genedara asked, her eyes never leaving the stranger’s form. “What state was in twenty years ago?”

“Lady, you blew yourself up. You turned your body into a fine red mist when you set that bomb off. Your body was vaporized. Just… Poof, gone! Boy, was that a show. You’re quite the accomplished mage, being able to pull a spell like that off.

“We saw the whole thing, you know; we followed Arthas for his entire journey. Kylona was host back then, that little psychopath. I’m sure you’ve seen her work in your dreams by now. But anyway, the perfect little prince went and did his thing. We watched your house collapse with your family inside. Heartbreaking, really. One moment you have the perfect life and the next it’s all taken away. So sad. The perfect host, a woman defeated by life but too cowardly to take her own life. That’s okay. You’ll have an eternity to come to terms with the death of your crotch goblins.”

“What did you call my children?” Genedara snarled as she rose from her bench. “Insult my children again and I’ll vaporize you.”

“You could try,” the woman said with yet another shrug of her shoulders. “Not gonna do anything. For you see, I’m not really here. You’ve been talking to yourself this entire time. What, didn’t you see the people who walked by giving you the hairy eyeball? Oh. That’s right. You’re blind. My bad!”

And then the woman was gone, vanishing without a trace. Genedara was left there, alone, her lunch abandoned. A couple could be seen walking away in the distance, having passed by just a moment ago while she was having a discussion with the air. Feeling like a fool the elf gathered up her lunch and started fast walking to the city gates.

Ever since Genedara discovered the Thing living inside of her, she had started having horrible nightmares. She knew now that those were not mere dreams but actual memories of her body committing atrocious acts in the name of this Thing. In several of these dreams a pair of twins were seen actively interfering with the Thing whenever they ran into each other. They were the only group of people to consistently avoid dying at the hands of the Thing. Be it through sheer luck or skill, Genedara needed those twins now.

It was time to pay them a visit.

------

“Babe,” Cassian said, roughly shoving Kallard’s shoulder. “Babe, wake up. Who falls asleep cooking?”

Kallard let loose a mighty yawn, closed his eyes, extended his arms and legs and did a mighty stretch with a soft groan. He reached up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, sitting up in his lawn chair. Kylona had her nose stuck in some book, wrapped up in a blanket near the fire and Marilini was in the tent drying the wolves off after their afternoon bath.

“I wasn’t cooking anything, I’m smoking meat.”

“Well, you smoked the meat into charcoal pucks,” Cassian muttered, pointing at the now ruined food. “Why don’t you leave the cooking to me, yeah? I want to actually eat today.”

“It’s true, Kal,” Kylona chimed in without looking up. “You suck at grilling.”

“Whoa, hold on there. I thought you all loved my steaks.”

Kylona just laughed in response.

“Shut it, Shortstack,” Kallard snapped back.

“Uuugghh,” Kylona groaned, finally looking up from her book. “I hate that call sign you know.”

“And I hated mine when I got it. Suck it up, buttercup. Embrace the suck,” Kallard said with a wave of his hand.

“Well, your call sign actually makes sense. You’re a fucking rascal, Kal. You’re always up to no good,” Cassian chimed in, elbowing his husband in the ribs. “You’re a menace.”

“Bullshit! I’m not always scheming, right sis?!”

“Leave me out of this!” Marilini shouted from inside the tent. “Shut up and make me some food!”

“FINE! I’ll make us some stir fry you lazy fucks.”

“It’s your turn to cook, dumbass!” came Mari’s reply.

It had been a few months since Kylona was saved by the Felmanns and she couldn’t have been any happier. Finally, for the first time in her life she was surrounded by people who not only respected her, but loved and wanted her around. The Felmanns were a rough bunch but they had their hearts in the right place. Kallard may be abrasive and offensive but deep down he was a kind man who would die for his family. In the weeks that followed Kylona’s rescue she had been formally adopted by Cassian and Kallard and had taken on their last name.

They spent practically all day together, either training, shooting the shit or just quietly existing around each other. Cassian was finally caught up on recent events due to him missing a good ten years of history. Kallard was working Kylona hard, running her through what he called Boot Camp. Every day for a good portion of the daylight hours was spent training and readying Kylona for future conflicts. They had even given her one of the four revolvers the family used, officially making her a Felmann.

“What meat do you bums want?” Kallard ask the group, tossing vegetables into a large wok. “We got chicken, pork and a few shrimp left over from last night.”

“Chicken!” Cassian and Marilini said in unison.

“Chicken it is. Grub’ll be rea-” Kallard had started before a bomb went off roughly one hundred feet from the camp; someone or something had triggered their early warning traps.

Marilini came flying out of the tent, tossing a double barrel shotgun in her brother’s direction before slipping back inside. Kallard snatched the weapon out of the air and cracked open the breach to check it was load before snapped the barrel back into place. Kylona abandoned her blanket and book, tossing both items aside as she popped up to her feet, drawing her revolver as she moved. Unlike the others Cassian did not arm himself and instead took up position next to his husband.

“Watch it be a deer,” Kylona muttered after a moment of silence.

“Ain’t no deer comin’ out here. The Murlocs to the south keep most prey species away which also keeps the predators away. Things know to avoid an area when they see their buddies dropping left and right,” came Kallard’s reply.

Kylona opened her mouth to reply but instead snapped her jaw shut when a woman stepped out of the forest and into the clearing where the Felmann camp was. She held her hands up in the air, palms facing the group in an attempt to show them she was not armed. The woman wore clothing fit for a Gilnean noble with platinum blonde hair pulled into a tidy ponytail. Her milky white eyes gazed at the group, radiating a soft blue. It was the same elf who had had been terrorizing the area for as long as the Felmanns were there.

“The fuck do you want?” Kallard asked the elf, keeping the barrel of his shotgun aimed at her head. “Last time you showed up you tried to kill us. You got thirty seconds to explain yourself.”

“I am not here to fight,” the woman said calmly, keeping her gaze on Kallard. “I know that I have tried to harm you in the past and I want to make it absolutely clear that I will not harm any of you this day. I am here to explain myself and see if you would be willing to offer me aid so we can put this part of our lives behind us. Please. I cannot keep Him contained forever. He must be dealt with.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Kallard spat. “Ain’t no he or him. It’s you. It’s always just been you.”

“I am possessed. You haven’t spoken to ME once. The entire time you were talking to HIM.”

“Yeah, and? Go see a fucking Priest!” Kylona shouted at the woman. “We’re not exorcists or holy men.”

“Well, there is one holy man here,” Cassian said, looking at the woman. “I don’t know your history with my family but I am willing to at least verify what you are saying.”

“What?! No, we’re not helping her!” Kallard snapped back, looking at his husband briefly. “Cass, she’s been killing people left and right. You’ve heard the rumors! What about that church full of people that up and vanished? Or what about that farmhouse that was painted with blood? That was all her! She’s just using this possession bit to garner sympathy for her.”

“Kal, hun, I’m a Paladin. We help people, even those who have tried to harm us. I would be breaking my oath if I were to turn her away,” Cassian said softly, placing a comforting hand on Kallard’s shoulder.

“Please,” the woman begged. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. These hands are covered in enough blood. Help me end this.”

Without waiting for Kallard’s permission, Cassian stepped forward and approached the stranger. He offered her a kind smile and gestured for her to lower her hands before doing the same for his family. Kylona hesitantly lowered her revolver but Kallard kept his shotgun trained on the woman. He did a half circle around the elf and his husband, keeping the former in his sights.

“Ignore him,” Cassian told the elf, reaching out with his right hand. “I’m just going to do a quick probe. If you are telling the truth then I will detect two souls within you, which we all know isn’t normal. It won’t hurt. I promise.”

“Alright, you may run your test,” the elf said, letting the Paladin’s warm hand rest on the top of her head.

The smile never left Cassian’s face as he closed his eyes and focused for a moment. Thanks to his training as a combat medic and a Light based healer, it didn’t take long for him to see the truth behind the woman’s words. There was indeed two distinct and separate souls residing within the woman. Her soul was strong and steeped in magic but the other had a sinister energy to it. Whatever it was, it knew what Cassian was trying to do, a hint of amusement rising to the surface. Cassian gasped and withdrew his hand, feeling as if he had touched a hot pan on the stove.

“She’s telling the truth,” the Paladin said first looking at the woman and then down at his hand. “Whatever else is inside of her is wicked.”

“Now do you believe me?” the woman asked, keeping her gaze on Kallard, the obvious leader of the group.

“Do I believe you? Yes. Do I trust you to roam free around my family? No. What’s to stop that thing inside of you from taking over now and killing all of us? What are you doing to keep it contained? Doesn’t it know you are doing this? Surely it’s not going to sit there and watch us lock it away.”

“Kal, chill. Let her explain herself,” Kylona chimed in, looking over at the man that she now considered to be her adopted father.

While the others were distracted with their ethical debate, Marilini sneaked out of the tent. In her right hand was a large, open shackle. Several runes had been carved into the shiny metal, each one giving off a dull blue glow. Without warning, she leaped at the elf and tackled her to the ground, forcing a cry of surprise and pain as the two women hit the ground. Th elven woman felt the cold metal of the shackle close around her neck, sealing itself with a soft click.

“That’s better,” Kallard muttered, dropping down to a squat as Mari rolled off of the elf. “You feel that? That’s an anti-magic collar. You ain’t castin’ no spells or fuckery. Had this made special, just for you.”

“Are you done? Pretty sure we established that it wasn’t me who hurt you,” the elf said with a face full of grass, not wanting to move and anger the veterans.

“Nope, not done,” Kallard said, poking the elf with the barrel of his shotgun. “I don’t trust you. You can say what you came here to say without your magic.”

“I already told you what I needed to say. I need your help if we are to deal with this problem. Do you think He’ll stop with me? He will come after you next. You’re the one he wants to move to when I die. He wants you to serve as his host, Kallard,” the elf told the group as she rolled over and sat upright.

“Yeah, and? I already knew this, lady. What can you do to prevent that from happening? You gonna wave your hands and make all of our problems disappear? Why the fuck should we trust you?” Kallard asked the woman, anger seeping into his voice. “I have half a mind to blow your fucking head off and be done with this bullshit once and for all.”

“Killing her won’t solve your problems,” said a calm, almost soothing disembodied voice.

The campfire exploded in a giant ball of fire before becoming a giant, flaming pillar. A pair of shiny, silver eyes appeared in the center, gazing out at those assembled before it. Kallard looked up at the fire but kept his shotgun trained on the elf. He narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin with a free hand.

“Oh, wow, look at that. You led it right to us. What a fucking surprise!” Kallard muttered as he roughly shoved the elf with the barrel of his shotgun. “Stupid cunt. Gonna enjoy this.”

Kallard shifted his index finger from the top of the trigger guard and wrapped it around the trigger. Without another word or approval from the others the first shotgun shell was fired, a deafening boom ripping through the camp. A high pitched whine laid over a low buzzing noise came from the elf as the buckshot made contact with a barrier placed around the elven woman. Once the energy had dissipated the small metal spheres fell to the ground, leaving Kallard to sit there staring at the woman with an annoyed expression.

(( Recommended listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdlvgIFdNZU ))

“You mortals never think before doing something, do you?” the voice asked Kallard, the shiny silver eyes locked onto the veteran. “Genedara is safe so long as she remains my host. Try to harm her again and I’ll end you, Kallard.”

“Okay,” Kallard said with a shrug of his shoulders before firing the second shot. With that done he tossed the weapon off to the side and rose to his feet. He reached out with his right hand and caught something that Marilini tossed in his general direction. In his hand was a grenade packed to the brim with Azerite, a weapon strong enough to vaporize anyone foolish enough to remain within its blast radius.

“You’d kill everyone here just to get me?” the voice asked Kallard. “How delightful.”

“Nah, just you and this cunt,” Kal grunted as he hitched a thumb back at the elven woman. “What’re you gonna do this time? You gonna spook us again? Oooooh so scary.”

“You will fear me when I am through with you,” the voice boomed, losing the sense of calm it carried just moments ago.

From the fire emerged a figure with its skin removed with bone-like armor plating covering the vital parts of its body. The creature stood over six feet tall and was built like a professional fighter. Its body was lean and muscular with spikes jutting forth from its chin. A wicked grin was forever etched into its features with no visible eye sockets. The creature took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, blowing a thick, black smoke from deep within its body.

Something took hold of Kallard and dragged him forward and then up into the air. He thrashed around mid-air, trying his hardest to fight against the invisible hand that was holding him in place. Cassian took a few steps backward and took in a deep breath, calling upon the Light. Kylona didn’t waste any time and opened fired on the fleshy creature. The barrel of her revolver kicked upwards as she dumped all six rounds into the thing’s chest, having barely made a dent in its thick armor plating.

“You will all fear me,” the creature roared.

“Fuck you, I bow to no one!” Kallard shouted back. “Stupid bitch! Fight me like a man!”

One moment Kallard was shouting obscenities and the next he was screaming in agony. Whatever was holding him in place simply tore the man in two, discarding the two halves as if they were trash. Kallard’s intestines spilled out of the gaping hole in his torso, dead before he hit the ground. The rest of his internal organs joined his intestines, his heart giving one final beat before falling still. His gaze was locked on Cassian, he husband’s face the last thing he saw before being brutally murdered.

“KAL NO!” Kylona screamed, eyes wide with shock.

Marilini hissed in pain and clutched her chest, her face dark red and beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. She took a few steps forward, stumbling towards her brother as her body grew weaker and weaker. Her body would then give out, the remaining twin hitting the ground with a pained yelp. A single hand reached out and grasped her brother’s body before she too fell limp, dead without a scratch.

Kylona stood there in stunned silence after watching two of her closest friends die. She stood there motionless, eyes locked onto the corpses of the Felmann twins. Tears flowed down her cheeks as her knees gave out. She collapsed onto her knees and covered her face with both hands and softly sobbed. After finally meeting people who actually cared about her had been a blessing, something Kylona had never had in her life. But now they were gone, nothing more than two sacks of meat.

Cassian on the other hand was not stunned into silence. A column of bright golden light shot downward from the heavens. The Paladin held up his hand and a large, glowing mace appeared out of thin air. With a roar he charged forward, bringing down the mace on the creature that had so effortless killed the two people who meant the world to him. He was filled with a righteous fury, knowing the Light will allow him to act upon his grief.

The creature ducked out of the way of the magical mace and stepped off to the side. The thing stood there, basking in the suffering that now radiated from the remaining two Felmann family members. Knowing the grieving Kylona wouldn’t be joining the fight, the abomination turned its full attention on Cassian.

A pair of brilliant golden wings exploded from Cassian’s back and spread open, giving the paladin an impressive ten foot wingspan. The fury of the Light burned in his eyes, trails of magic drifting off from the corners of his eyes and into the cool air. He continued his advanced on the abomination, swinging his mace around with ease. But, despite his best efforts, Cassian would be unable to harm the thing that killed his husband.

Whether it was due to his grief blinding him or if it was simply due to being overpowered, something was preventing Cass from doing anything substantial. After a few minutes of one-sided combat the paladin took a few steps backwards, breathing heavily. It had been a while since he had called upon the Light in such a fashion, the effort practically draining the man.

“It won’t be today, it might not be tomorrow, but I promise you this,” Cassian gasped. “I will kill you.”

“You will try,” the creature said, letting out an amused chuckle.

And then it was gone.

Sensing the worst of it was over, Genedara relaxed her posture and eased herself out of the fetal position. She sat up and looked around, expecting a bloodbath. Instead the camp was clean and free of any bodily fluids and internal organs. Neither Kallard or Marilini were anywhere within sight nor inside their tent. The elf looked around with a frown, unable to sense the twins presence anywhere hear them.

“Where are they?!” Cassian screamed as he took hold of the elf’s neck, hoisting her off the ground. “Tell me where you took them!”

“I didn’t take them anywhere. Did you fail to see me curled up on the ground?” Genedara snapped back.

“Why the hell did you come here in the first place? If you knew that thing was going to do this then they did you come here?!”

“I thought you could help me!” Genedara shouted back.

“Yeah, well, look what that brought us,” Cassian said, defeated. He dropped the elf and turned away from her and into the tent. “You ought to leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“LEAVE!” Cassian and Kylona screamed at the same time.

Genedara looked at the two, their rage and sorrow the result of her poor decisions. Had she not come all the way out here the twins would most likely still be present. There was no indication that the creature was nearby or hiding within her again. The elf reached up with both hands and rubbed her eyes, feeling agitated and defeated. She looked between the two once more before turning around and silently making her way back home, not bothering to say goodbye.

“What do we do?” Kylona asked no one in particular.

“I’ll take Bao and search the forest. You take Kun and do the same to the west. They couldn’t have gotten far,” Cassian muttered. “We have to move fast.”

“I know that, Cass, but it would be really fucking stupid to just rush into this. What are we even fighting? What the fuck was that thing?”

“I don’t know what it was but I do know this: I’m going to kill it and save my family. Kallard ripped through time to save me and I’ll be damned if I don’t put in the same effort to save him and Mari.”

“Wait,” Kylona said, turning to look at Cassian. “What do you mean he ripped through time?”

“I died ten years ago. I was slain in combat during our Pandarian tour. Kallard went back in time to the point where I had just been given the lethal blow and brought me back here,” Cassian told Kylona, finally tearing his gaze away from the tent and over to her. “He broke every rule in the book to save me.”

“Then let’s do the same. Let’s do something so stupid they’ll write about it in the history books,” Kylona said, a grin spreading across her face. “C’mon, Cass. Let’s bonk our heads together and come up with a plan. No point in standing around with a thumb up our asses.”

Cassian smiled down at the shorter woman and pulled her into a tight embrace. The two stood there for a moment, holding each other and processing what had just transpired. After a couple of minutes the two sat down next to the fire and started their planning. At first the pair split up, each one taking one of the wolves into the woods, hunting the twins’s scent. But, despite their best efforts and after an entire day’s worth of searching they met back up at camp and collapsed into their chairs. Neither of them had any clue as to where the twins were but Kylona and Cassian wouldn’t let that stop them. After a quick meal and a short nap the two returned to their search.

------

Kylona and Marilini were suspended in mid-air. Their feet were bound together with iron shackles, their hands tied and shackled behind their backs. A thick wad of dirty linen had been shoved into their mouth and a blindfold pulled over their eyes. Neither of them were conscious at the moment, locked away in a magical coma. The creature stood before them, gazing deep into their bodies and admiring their tainted souls. This is where they would remain, locked away in an unknown basement in some unknown area, trapped in a slumbering state.

And so the hungry god feasted upon their doubts and fears, gorging itself on their grief and rage. And what fine meals they were.

[genedara]

Everything in its right place

You know, there are two kinds of evil. There's the evil that exists as an external force that threatens the well-being of the tribe. Survival depends on understanding and awareness and fear of physical threat to our daily lives. The other kind of evil lives inside of us. Like a sickness or an infection. It's more dangerous because we may not know we're infected.

(( The following contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Themes included are graphic violence. ))

(( Recommended listening: https://youtu.be/NUnXxh5U25Y?si=HjUHAb4bVH-8hSlT ))

It was morning in Elwynn Forest and Genedara was just rolling out of bed. She let loose a mighty yawn and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Somewhere up in the rafters of her tower came the caw of a raven. A large, black bird swooped down and landed on the elf’s shoulder, looking at her with beady black eyes.

“Good morning, Myth,” Genedara said, reaching up and affectionately scratching behind the raven’s ear.

In response the bird let out a squawk and flapped his wings playfully before settling back down. Genedara stood up and walked over to her large dresser, filled to the brim with high end outfits and accessories. She pushed aside outfit after outfit, each one carefully laid out on a metal clothes hanger. After a moment of digging the elf eventually removed a set of robes and light armor. With her outfit for the day picked out, she walked over to space reserved for her small bathroom.

Given the fact that Genedara lived in a tower, space was limited. Her bed was situated in the center of the room, set right in front of the curved wall. To the left of her bed was her dresser and to the right was her bathtub, sink and full body mirror. The elf stepped in front of the mirror and started to undress. Myth hopped around on her shoulder, staying put but not getting in the way. The bird let out a caw upon seeing its reflection, looking at it with a single black eye.

“I need to borrow your eyes, Myth.”

A spell was cast and the elf’s eyes flared to life, glowing a bright baby blue. She looked at herself through the eyes of her familiar, taking a moment to adjust to the change. Her eyes came into focus and a gasp rang out, Genedara’s eyes wide as he looked at herself in the mirror. Her pale flesh was covered in dried, crusty blood.

“What in the..?” came her shocked realization that something was very wrong.

With a wave of her hand, Genedara dismissed Myth and speed walked over to her bath. She reached out and twisted the two nobs that controlled the flow of water. Not bothering to check to see if the temperature was tolerable, the elf slipped into the water and started to scrub the blood off with her bare hands. Just as she was about to clean her hair, the elf’s body went limp. She slid down deeper into the water, eventually coming to a halt when her bath water was up to her chin. Milky white eyes stared straight ahead, a blank and lifeless look settling onto her features.

———

When Genedara came to she found herself standing in a vast, open space. A heavy fog hung over the area, making it impossible to see more than a few feet. Figures moved around just on the edge of what was visible, talking in hushed voices. Their words overlapped each other, making it sound as if there was a couple hundred people all speaking at once. It was maddening as her mind struggled to pull words out of the gibberish.

“Good morning, Genedara.”

The new voice cut through the mess, a strong, dominating tone that commanded obedience. From the fog emerged a mirror copy of Genedara, right down to the freckles on her butt. The two elves stared at each other, one with milky white eyes, the other with shiny silver discs set in an impossibly dark void. The light reflected off those unnatural eyes, flashing like a cat’s eyes in the dark.

“Who are you?” one elf asked the other.

“A god,” the silver eyed elf said, puffing out her chest. “An angel to some, demon to others.”

“I serve no god,” Genedara said, taking a single step back. “I want nothing to do with you. Release me so I can continue about my day.”

“SILENCE!” the other elf shouted, her words ringing out like an explosion.

Genedara’s mouth snapped shut, both hands flying up to probe her face. She tried to talk but was unable to. Her lips had fused together, forever dooming her to living the life of a mute. Her fingernails dug into the new flesh, trying hard to cut her way through. Blood dribbled down her chin and down onto her breasts. Her hands tore away chunks of meat, discarding it as if it were trash.

“Look at you,” the other elf said as it approached its opposite. “Desperate to talk yet unable to. What words would you cry out? “Oh gods help me! Someone save me from this monster!” What a joke. So strong yet so weak. What would your husband think of you now?”

Genedara’s facial expression quickly shifted from scared out of her mind to a righteous fury. Her hands dropped down to her sides and she sucked in a lung full of crisp air. The runes tattooed all over her body flared to life, giving off a brilliant blue glow. The very air itself started to vibrate as more power was drawn into the naked elf. She let loose a muffled roar of anger, thrusting her hands forward, one palm overlapping the other.

A shockwave burst forth from the palm of her hand, forcing the other Genedara backward by at least twenty feet. The fog surrounding both elves thinned out and they were both able to see a sea of bodies standing just at the edge of the fog. The silver eyed elf chuckled and dropped the form of its host, revealing its true form to her.

A dense cloud of black smoke stood before Genedara, its form in a constant state of motion, folding in on itself and expanding at the same time. When the elf stared down the cloud she could feel it gazing back at her, boring deep into her mind. One moment the cloud was there, the next five year old Leana stood in front of her mother.

“Only a monster hides behind the visage of a child,” Genedara spat out, refusing to fall for this creature’s tricks. “You can’t fool me anymore. I know you’ve been using my body to do horrible things. How many people have to killed using my body?”

“Untold millions have died at my hand,” the child said, speaking with two voices overlapping each other. A deep, commanding male voice and the high pitched tone of a little girl, no older than six.

“That isn’t what I asked you. How many people have you killed using my body?”

“Do you really want to know that answer? What purpose does it serve to know how much blood has been spilled with by your hand? What, do you think you have a chance of beating me? You, a lowly mortal stripped of her family history. You’re nothing to me, an ant ready to be squashed under my boot.”

“He speaks truth,” a woman’s voice called out from the dense fog. “He only speaks the truth. You would be wise to listen to His words. Through Him we find peace, forever locked in His loving embrace. Come, child. Join us. Only then will you know true power.”

Joining her master, a woman stood next to the small child, grinning at Genedara with sickly yellow teeth. The woman looked to be in her fifties her forehead a mess of worry lines and freckles. Her silver hair was cut short, barely making it to her shoulders. A pair of silver eyes looked down at the elf, the cocky woman overjoyed to be standing next to her master.

“Who are you, his slave?” Genedara asked the other woman, ignoring the demon in the shape of her youngest child.

“Slave? Hah!” The woman chuckled and shook her head. “What a simple little mind. You see us and assume I am his slave, unable to act of my own accord. You couldn’t be anymore wrong, little one.

“I am his preacher, His most loyal and devout follower. It was through me that His love and light is spread across the world. But that was then and this is now. Now we live in you, elf girl. We are the lord and you the slave. Failure to act will result in swift punishment. And trust me, you do not want to be on His bad side.”

“I will never be a slave,” Genedara spat out, her runes flaring to life once more. “I am done playing your little games. I am Genedara, first born daughter to Jen’nis Silverfury, grand master of the Arcane arts. My family has taught the power of magic to others for thousands of years. The collective knowledge of my entire bloodline lies within me and we will NEVER submit to you and your “god.””

Genedara reached up at the colorless sky and grabbed a fistful of air and balled her hand into a white-knuckled fist. She roared with fury and brought the heavens down on the being and its preacher. Large, flaming boulders began to rain down on the field of fog. With each impact an explosion would ring out, the rocks slamming into the ground and leaving behind smoking craters. Before the dust cleared the elf was already working on her next spell. Another roar slipped past her usually stony disposition as a jet of blue flame shot out of the palms of her hands. She took several steps forward with the strength and determination needed to put an end to her nightmare.

Once the smoke cleared Genedara let out a sign of relief when she saw the dismembered bits and pieces of the human woman scattered about the battlefield. A rope of intestine and half a heart sat at the elf’s feet, slick with fresh blood. An eyeball stared at the elf from a distance of ten feet, its twin nowhere to be seen. Just as Genedara began to relax the pieces of the human woman started to wriggle in place with wet, slapping noises. Birds and pieces of internal organs started crawling toward each other and eventually linking up and slowly rebuilding the preacher.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Genedara said to herself, swearing for the first time in years.

“What?” the pile of organs asked. “Did you think that your magic could kill us? I am apart of our god! He and I are one, and soon, so will you.”

———

Genedara woke with a scream, trashing around in her bathtub. The water had gone cold and night had descended on the Eastern Kingdoms. She sat there, breathing heavy and struggling to gain her bearings. The familiar scent of home and the sounds of her familiars signified that she was back in her tower.

The elf dragged herself out of the bathtub, summoning a robe to swoop over and wrap itself around her petite frame. She shivered into the fabric, teeth chattering loudly. How long had she been lying in the tub? Was that just a dream or was it real? She had a dozen questions and answers to none of them. Whatever had just transpired would sit in the elf’s mind for some time. Was she really possessed by this thing and its preacher? What does someone even do about a situation like this?

“Fuck,” Genedara muttered with a shake of her head, cursing for the second time today. “As if my life wasn’t difficult enough, now I have a lunatic and a monster living rent free in my head. That’s just dandy.”

As she dried herself off, Genedara started to warm up, finally shaking off the cold bath. She pulled on a nightgown that stopped just above her groin and light pink in color. It had been a style her husband had picked out for her. He made it know that he loved when she wore it, giving her husband an opportunity to gaze at his wife’s near naked form. The warmth of the memory hung in her chest, a hand resting over her heart. Without another word the elf climbed into bed, pulled herself under the covers and settled in for the night despite not being truly tired.

Just as Genedara fell asleep her eyes snapped back open. A pair of silver discs hung in her eyes, reflecting off the moonlight visible through the roof window. She threw aside the covers and crawled out of bed, letting out a groan as she stretched out. An outfit was picked at random a quickly put on before the elven woman made her way downstairs.

It was time to get back to work, for He had grandiose plans. And so Genedara went, carrying out into the night. Death followed in her wake and the terrified screams of innocents filled the air.

[genedara]

A Silent Night

No tears, please. It’s a waste of good suffering.

(( The following contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Expect to see the following themes: Graphic/Intense violence and horrific imagery. Read at your own discretion. ))

(( Recommended listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6f45mmOiiw ))

“Help me!”

The girl’s voice cut through the silent night air. An owl swooped out of a tree, spooked by the sudden loud noise. The bird flew without making a sound, choosing to find a quieter place to wait for its next meal. Back at its previous hunting ground, the girl continued to wander around in the dark, occasionally barking a request for help.

Tucked away deep in Elwynn forest stood the Holton farm. While not a large farm, the Holtons were responsible for growing various fruits and garden vegetables that fed the Alliance. Having spent the day tending the field, the Holtons were tucked away in their beds, safe from the chilly night air. Orvelle rolled over and pulled his wife close to him, holding her against his body.

“Please help me!” the girl drawled, her voice just loud enough to be heard inside the small farmhouse. “Oh Light help me!”

“Did you say something?” Lorena asked as she rolled over and buried her face in her husband’s chest hair.

“Nuh-uh,” mumbled Orvelle. “Probably just a bird.”

“Please help me!”

This time the voice sounded like it was coming from right outside the house. Orvelle wormed his way away from his wife and sat up in bed, staring at the window that overlooked the fields. He couldn’t see anything outside but it did look like there was something moving around off in the distance. A hand was then placed on his wife’s shoulder, a kiss planted on her forehead and then the farmer was out of bed.

“Stay here,” Orvelle said sternly, looking at his wife. “But I won’t object to you standing near the door with the shotgun. You remember where it is?”

“Of course, dear,” Lorena replied with a single nod of her head. She tossed her legs over the side of the bed and slid off the mattress. With bare feet Lorena walked over to her husband’s dresser and opened the first drawer, revealing a double barrel shotgun resting on a pile of men’s underwear. “I really wish you’d find a better place for this.”

“Ain’t gonna find a better place. No one will ever think to check the dresser for a weapon.”

Lorena grabbed two shotgun shells and slid them into their respective barrels. Once the weapon was fully loaded she hoisted the weapon up and held it at the ready with a smile on her face. Having dealt with bandits several times in the past, the two had developed an ability to be ready for danger with just a moment’s notice to prepare. Orvelle unlocked the two dead bolts and carefully drew the door open, peering out into the darkness.

“Hello?” he called out tentatively before stepping outside and onto his porch. “Miss, where are you?”

“Oh gods, help! HELP ME!” the girl cried out, sounding as if she were just a couple feet away from Orvelle.

“Miss, I can’t see you. Follow the sound of my voice!” the farmer shouted back, cupping his hands around his mouth in an attempt to amplify his voice. “Come to the house! We can offer you shelter and protection!”

From the gloom emerged the girl, her legs shrouded in shadows. Her torso was bare, her breasts exposed to the elements, nipples stiff due the cold. The girl’s body could be described as an hourglass shape, topped off with a pretty face and long brown hair. Black mascara lines ran down her cheeks, red and puffy eyes staring down the farmer.

“Oh my gods,” Lorena said from the doorway, the barrel of the shotgun pointed down at the ground. “Sweetie, are you okay? Are you hurt? Please, come, come. I can give you some clothing so you’re not naked.”

“Please help me!” the girl shouted, acting as if she was unable to see the couple in front of her. “Oh gods, please help!” “It’s okay,” Orvelle said, cautiously stepped off the porch and approached the naked girl, holding a hand out for her to take. “I promise you no harm will come to you.”

“Please,” the girl drawled, the tone of her voice dropping several octaves. “Help meeeee.”

A dull thump sounded as the girl’s head dropped to the ground, brown eyes staring up at the shocked farmer and his wife once her head stopped rolling. The rest of her body stumbled forward, the sight of which caused Lorena to let out a sharp cry of surprise as she stumbled backwards several feet. The farmer stood there in stunned silence, eyes wide as he watched something that shouldn’t exist emerge from the darkness, standing in the light of the moon.

“Pleeeeaaaassssseeeee heeellllpppp…” the girl continued to drawl on and on, repeating the same two words again and again. “Hellllppppp pleeeeeeasssseee…”

The naked torso was the only normal thing about the girl’s body. Her arms were held up at the sky, as if praising some unseen deity. Her torso was much longer than a normal person’s but ended in an explosion of assorted limbs of different sizes and skin tones. The thing ambled forward slowly, moving on a mixture of feet and hands, seemingly cobbled together with thick, black threads holding the abomination together.

The girl ceased her begging, staring up at Orvelle as her body advanced towards the farmer and his wife. A thin red laceration took shape at the base of her neck and ran down the entire length of her elongated torso. With the sound of flesh tearing the girl’s torso exploded, thrashing tentacles dancing about where her organs should have been. A pair of bone-like blades burst forth from the bloody mess, glistening crimson in the quickly vanishing moonlight as dark clouds moved in, cloaking the forest in darkness.

“Coooommmeeee jooooiiiinnn uuuuusssssssss…” the girl said with a voice that clearly did not belong to her. The voice was like nails on a chalkboard, a sound so foul you couldn’t help but wince. The words were laced with an intense feeling of dread that was only amplified as the abomination stumbled closer and closer.

Orvelle looked at the horror before him, his eyes moving from its mess of limbs to where the girl’s head once was. The farmer froze in place when a pair of silver discs formed in the space above the neck. Blood continued to pump out of the wound, running down her ruined chest, breasts reduced to nothing more than a pair of sickly gray nipples on decaying flesh. The stench that radiated from the creature was overwhelming, smelling of old, rotten meat and stomach bile with a touch of shit tossed in for good measure.

“BABE!” Lorena cried out from the doorway, watching in horror as the abomination approached the farmer. It reached out with clammy hands and gripped the man by the neck and hoisting him off the ground. He was held in place, eyes locked onto the silver discs that floated above the creature. The tentacles lashed out and wrapped themselves around Orvelle’s arms and legs, drawing him closer and closer until bare flesh was touching his.

BOOM!

The shotgun blast was deafening in the silence that had followed the girl’s arrival. Lorena stumbled backward a couple feed, dropping the gun as she moved instinctively away from the loud noise. The buckshot punched its way through Orvelle’s back, killing the man in one shot. His vital organs were now riddled with holes, the small metal balls nestled deep inside his flesh.

“NOOOO!” the abomination screamed, its voice so high pitched it caused Lorena to cover her ears.

“What a waste of good suffering,” came a mixture of voices from the depths of Elwynn Forest.

A Quel’dorei with platinum blonde hair tied into a ponytail emerged from behind the abomination, one hand gently laid on one of the being’s many limbs. She cooed and started to gently rub the creature’s leg, almost as if she were soothing a crying baby. A pair of milky white eyes stared out at the woman cowering inside the house.

Lorena sat on the ground, the shotgun resting several feet away from her. Something held her in place, preventing her from rearming herself. The farmer’s wife could do nothing but watch as her husband was torn apart in a fit of rage. A rope of intestines hit the ground with a wet plop, the stench of partially digested food hanging in the air. The abomination reached out with one of its many hands and gently took hold of Orvelle’s heart. With a grunt the organ was ripped out of the man’s chest, spilling blood all over its mangled and gruesome chest.

“Your family is so nice,” the elf said in her multitude of voices, sounding as if a man and a woman were speaking in unison. Lorena could also hear the voice of a child but it was faint, barely audible over the male voice’s presence. The elf radiated obedience where as her creation was a source of immense dread and despair. “Your husband will make a find addition to my child.”

The abomination took the two halves of Orvelle and stuck them against its pale flesh. It held the meat in place as they became one being. The farmer’s body was absorbed the new flesh drawing it into itself and eventually consumed the body whole. Four new limbs stretched out from its groin, reaching out and grabbing at the air like a newborn reaching out for their mother’s breast. Lorena was forced to watch the man she loved simply vanish into this horrific monstrosity led by some psycho elf bitch.

“Why are you doing this to us?” the farmer’s wife asked while tears streaked down her face. “We ain’t done nothing to anybody.”

“You are prey,” the elf said as she strode over to the prone woman. “And I am a predator. Do you not have prey species on this world, or are you too stupid to know of their existence? What makes you any different than the bovine you consume every day? But now you are the bovine and I am the hunter. Fret not, my child, for your essence will sustain me. I will feast on your flesh as I feast on your fear.”

Opening her mouth wide, the elf looked down at Lorena as her teeth elongated fangs, sharps as needles. Without saying another word, the elven woman let loose a hungry roar before dropping down to a squat, biting into Lorena’s neck. The fangs punctured the flesh as if it was a hot knife cutting through butter and with a twist of her chin a chunk of flesh was torn off. The farmer’s wife screamed briefly before slumping over to the side as blood pumped out of her neck.

“Help…” Lorena gasped as the blood drained from her face. “Me…”

“No, I don’t think I will,” the elf woman said with a frown, watching its prey bleed out before it. “Rest well my child, for your body will sustain me and my children. Not a scrap of flesh will be wasted. Come, my pet, and grab your meal. It is time we retire to our tower before the Host wakes up. Come, come.”

The elf bent down, grabbed one of Lorena’s hands and dragged her out of the farmhouse. A streak of blood followed after the elven menace as she slipped back into the shadows, her horrific creation following after her like a loyal dog. The two would vanish into the night, once more leaving behind a scene of intense violence. It would be several days before the grisly scene is discovered, leaving behind more questions than answers.

[genedara]

(( The following contains subject material that may be triggering to others. Subjects include graphic and over the top violence and horrific imagery. Read at your own discretion. ))

(( Recommend listening: https://youtu.be/s4DayGTThsk?si=0qu6VBAlZ9iOT73T ))

Genedara let out a sigh as she closed the only door leading in and out of her tower. She twisted the dead bolt lock to the right before slotting a plank of wood horizontally across the door. The first floor of her tower was mostly barren with a winding set of stairs leading up the second and third floors. Most of her books and a large desk adorned the second floor where the third mainly served as her bedroom and kitchen. Unable to see, the elf had little need for candles or lanterns to guide her way.

The thin, four foot long white cane used to aid Genedara’s ability to get around was carefully popped up next to the door. She would then slip out of her shoes, leaving them next to her cane. For a moment, Genedara stood there in darkness trying to gather her thoughts. Ever since Arthas’s attack in her homeland, she had been dealing with an intense bout of depression. Some days were easier than others, but for the most part her condition made it difficult to feel anything but the emptiness that lived inside her. In an effort to keep herself from dwelling in the past, Genedara worked hard and left little time to sit and loiter. But today had been a slow day at work which had allowed her to catch up on some back orders.

By the time she had arrived at home, the enchantress had little to nothing to fill her time. And so Genedara turned to face the stairs and made the climb to the third floor. She took her time making her way up, practically dragging her feet forward. It took longer than usual to arrive at the top and once there the elf took a seat on the edge of her bed. Her hands fell to rest in her lap as she stared straight ahead. With nothing to occupy her mind, she instinctively thought back to a time her life here she was happy.

It didn’t take long for the faces of her children and her husband to rise to the surface. She looked back at their time together fondly, longing to turn back the clock and be with her family again, even if it was only for a moment. She could feel the comforting weight of her infant in her arms, babbling as his chubby little fingers grasped at his mother’s hair. Leana squealed as Kath’lien scooped the little girl off her feet and started tickling her sides. Suddenly the joy was gone and her world went dark once more. The light went out and Genedara deflated. She sat there, defeated and alone and wept.

Tears trickled down her cheeks for the briefest of moments. She then quickly sat upright and took in a sharp, deep breath and held it in before slowly exhaling. Silver irises glittered in the light of the moon, like that of a cat’s eyes at night. Genedara slowly rose to her feet, the floorboard groaning as the elf planted both feet back on the ground. Without making a sound the elf slipped into the shadows, leaving the tower behind.

———

“I’m sick and tired of you deciding how I get to live my life!” Rachel shouted at her father. “I’m eighteen, dad. I’m an adult, and if I want to marry someone I actually like, then I’m going to fucking marry him! I’m not some little girl you can boss around. Not anymore!”

“Sweetheart, I just want what’s best for you. You don’t even know this guy! You’ve known him for what, three weeks? Sure, you think you’re in love but what’s going to happen when those feelings lessen? You’ll be stuck with him. Light help you if he gets you pregnant. Do you really want to spend the rest of your days with a stable boy? He reeks of animal shit.”

“He’s more than his job, dad! He’s a good man!”

The pair continued to argue, pointing fingers at each other and hollering at the top of their lungs. It was clear the father only wanted what was best for his now adult daughter. He didn’t want to see her make the same mistakes he had when he was her age. Neither of them seemed to notice a figure standing outside the house, peering inside from the kitchen window. The figure stood there in complete silence, watching the two with a pair of silver eyes. Back inside the house, a large grandfather clock slowly came to a halt and stopped after one final click.

Located just outside Goldshire, the house wasn’t anything to brag about. It was made of the same materials as every other house in the region and made no effort to stand out. The moon hung high in the sky, casting shadows across the already dark forest. Outside you could hear the father and daughter shouting at each other, their voices audible from a distance. The figure stood outside the window motionless, offering the occupants inside an unnerving and unfriendly smile.

“Ugh! Fuck it! Good luck telling me what I can and cannot do when I don’t live here anymore!” Rachel said, storming over to the front door.

Her hand wrapped around the doorknob and gave it a twist before pushing forward. Only the door didn’t open. No matter how hard she pushed or pulled the door wouldn’t budge an inch.

“What the fuck?” Rachel asked no one in particular.

“Who are you?” She could hear her father ask.

“Your daughter. What, are you pretending I don’t exist now?”

When Rachel turned around her eyes landed on a petite elven woman with platinum blonde hair. Her clothing was made of the finest materials possible and seemed to glitter in the candlelight. Just like the rest of her people, the elven woman was beautiful. Her silver eyes flicked from daughter to father as a smile spread across her lips.

“Hello,” the woman said, her voice overlapping a deep baritone voice. “Who are you?”

“What do you mean, who are we? The fuck you doing in my house?!” the father asked.

“So rude,” the elven woman said with a light shrug of her shoulders. “That is no way to address me. Kneel before me.”

“Kneel?” Rachel queried, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re no king.”

“I said KNEEL!” the woman’s voice carried the weight of blind obedience and submission, lashing out at their minds with the crack of a whip. Both Rachel and her father dropped down to their knees, each of them letting out a startled gasp. The pair watched as the elf circled them slowly, occasionally reaching out to stroke a cheek or tilt their chin up so she could gaze into their eyes. It felt as if a butcher were sizing up a cow prior to the harvest.

“Rachel and Nicholas Smith. Father and daughter. Ah,” the elf muttered, dropping down to a squat so her silver eyes bore into the father’s. “My favorite prey.”

“What do you mean, prey? We have nothing. We’re not worth killing,” Rachel babbled.

“That’s cute,” the elf said, turning her cold gaze to the girl. “I won’t be doing anything to either of you. Instead, you’ll do it for me.”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” cried the father. “You can’t force me to do shit.”

“And that is where you are so very wrong,” replied the elf.

“No, fuck you!” shouted Rachel as she pushed into whatever invisible force was keeping them in a kneeling position. The elven woman shrugged her shoulders and casually tossed a knife over to Nicholas.

“Kill the girl,” the elf spoke, once more her words carrying the weight of total submission. Her voice carried with it a terrible power, one that oozed an inescapable feeling of intense dread. It was like something had pulled a blanket over the sky, casting the world below into darkness. Rachel watched in horror as her father obeyed, reaching out with one hand, plucking the knife off the floor and taking hold of its grip with both hands.

“Please, no! Not my daughter!” the father sobbed, unable to stop himself as he scooted closer and closer. “Gods, no, please no!”

“Daddy, no!” Rachel screamed.

Nicholas took the knife and very slowly thrust it forward. The tip dipped into the soft flesh of Rachel’s left breast and was pushed deeper and deeper. Rachel could feel a hand clamped over her mouth, preventing her from crying out in pain. She was helpless to watch as her father drove the blade deep into her chest. It thrust into her lungs, making the girl’s breathing raspy. She coughed up mouthfuls of blood and tears streamed down her face. No matter how bad the pain was, the elven woman’s grip was unrelenting, holding Rachel in place as her father slowly and painfully killed his own child.

Nicholas withdrew the blade and drove it back into Rachel’s chest, cutting through the soft flesh like a hot knife through butter. He would stab his daughter a total of twenty times before she stopped breathing. Nicholas sat there in front of his only child cut to ribbons by his own hand. If he were to survive the night, tonight’s events would last in his memory for the rest of his days.

“Why are you doing this?” the father asked between sobs, the bloody knife still in his hand.

The elven woman offered him no explanation, simply gazing down at the fresh corpse. She walked over to the grizzly scene and placed a hand on Rachel’s slashed up chest. The girl’s eyes snapped open and she sat upright so quickly her intestines spilled out of her stomach, hitting the floor with a wet splat.

“What are you doing Rachel?” Asked her father, watching as his child scooped up her own organs, shoveling them into her mouth. Blood and partially digested food dribbled down the girl’s chin, seemingly oblivious to what she was eating.

“Rachel,” commanded the elf, her words once more carrying the weight of obedience. “Eat your father.”

“Wait! No! Rachel, please, don’t do this!”

“SILENCE!” Commanded the elf, her voice causing the wooden cabin to vibrate. “Drop the knife.”

The knife fell to the floor with a clatter, coming to a rest at Nicolas’s knees as he was still kneeling. He reached up with both hands and clawed at his lips that felt as if they were sewn shut. He was powerless to stop his daughter from ripping entire chunks of his skin off. Not a single sound was made as the man was torn apart, his undead daughter happily chowing down in her father’s flesh. She would not stop eating until there was nothing but bone and sinew left behold. A pile of Nicolas’s organs and clothing sat at the base of his remains, Rachel hunched over the corpse as she loudly chewed.

“Good girl,” the elf muttered, gently patting the girl’s head.

Rachel started screaming bloody murder and fell over. She started thrashed around, flailing her arms and legs around wildly. Her screams grew in pitch, making it sound as if she were being burnt alive. And then, without any warning, the girl’s head exploded, spraying chunks of grey matter in every direction.

By the time someone had come to investigate all the noise they would once more find a grizzly scene of murder but would find no bodies. There was blood all over the floor, the walls looking as if they had been painted by an abstract artist. There were bits of skull were wedged into the wooden walls, a testament to the strength of the explosion. No one had a clue as to what happened, chalking it up to just another home invasion gone wrong.

[genedara]

The Death of Innocence

My heart is shuttered, soon it will crumble away

Stifling my tears, I scream day after day

(( The following story contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Such themes include grief and the loss of one’s living and unborn children, graphic violence and suicidal ideation, self-harm and suicide attempt. Read at your own discretion. ))

(( Recommended listening: https://youtu.be/aUCSDCNi6Wo?si=ou96kI7oeNI2MAAc ))

Twenty Years Ago

“Higher, daddy, higher!” Leana shouted as her father playfully tossed his daughter into the air. He caught the child with ease, beaming at the girl while the two of them played. The little elven girl giggled endlessly, squealing with joy whenever she was tossed upward.

“Throw her any higher and you’ll end up tossing her into space,” Genedara said. She held a small bundle up to her chest, a small infant’s head visible. One arm held the child close to her chest while her free hand rested on her pregnant belly.

“What, you don’t want to be the mother of the first space pioneer?” Kath’lien asked his wife, briefly glancing over at the woman he had been married to for the last century.

On their hundredth anniversary Genedara had approached her husband and asked if he would like to be a father. She remembered him scooping her up into his arms and twirled around with joy. Neither of them could remember a period where they were this happy. Genedara had finally established herself as one of the best Arcane tutors in the kingdom and was pulling in enough money to start a family. It only made sense to her to start popping out kids. Both parents were overjoyed when Leana was born, welcoming the baby with open arms. It was a few years before they wanted another and thus Aelriel was born. They had not planned on having anymore but were more than willing to have a third when Genedara found out she was pregnant again.

“Wheee! More, daddy!” Leana giggled as she dropped back down into her father’s loving embrace.

Unknown to the Runestrider family, Arthas had finally crossed into Quel’thalas. With his army on the dead following him he carved his path through Eversong Woods, killing anyone brave enough to stand in his way. Sylvanas had fallen and her ghostly form bound to the Lich King, cursed to do his bidding. The banshee tore through the people she once protected, unable to resist Arthas’s control over her. The army of the dead effortlessly made their way north only coming to a halt when they arrived at Silvermoon City. While battling with the city guard wicked siege engines were brought to the field of battle, raining death from above. The flaming stones punched holes into pristine towers, killing anyone who stood in their way. The happy family’s day was cut short when one of those boulders plowed into the Runestrider estate. In the blink of an eye their once beautiful home was reduced to rubble.

Genedara groaned as she came to, unable to see anything. She could hear the sounds of war raging outside her estate, the dying screams of her people a sound she would never forget. Something heavy had pinned her to the ground, one of the house’s stone walls. It was then when she remembered what she was doing before the explosion. Panic flooded her mind as she tried and failed to free herself.

She couldn’t hear anyone other than herself. She cried out, desperately pushing the wall. Tears streamed down her dirt caked cheeks, her voice rising to a panicked scream as her arms strained against the weight. A series of runes tattooed in white ink ran down her exposed arms which flared to life when Genedara poured mana into them. A invisible hand took hold of the rubble and flung it off, finally feeling the once pinned woman.

“Kath’lien! Leana! Oh gods, no! No no no, not you. Please gods no,” Genedara begged as she crawled over to the bundle of blankets her infant was wrapped in.

He wasn’t moving.

“No gods, please no!”

Outside the rubble a war waged on. Arthas’s troops were cutting through Silvermoon’s defenses like it was child’s play. Whenever someone fell they would be reanimated and forced to fight their loved ones. Those that fought against the rising tide of undead would forever be haunted for the rest of their lives.

Genedara pulled her deceased infant into her arms, holding the bundle close to her chest. She cautiously rose to her feet, ignoring the shards of glass that littered the floor. When she found Kath’lien impaled with a broken wood beam her knees gave way and she fell back down. Just a couple feet away was the body of Leana, her head caved in when one of the bookshelves fell over when the first volley hit.

“Don’t let them past!” someone shouted nearby, his voice carrying over the chaos of war. “Hold your ground! We must give everyone time to evacuate!”

“I can’t kill them!” came another voice. “They won’t stay down!”

“Cut the heads off!”

During all of this, Genedara knelt there, motionless. Her gaze was locked onto the corpse of her first and only daughter. A hole opened up her chest and her heart spilled out as a void filled the cavity. Her arms still held the lifeless infant, holding his body close. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her mind struggling to cope with everything that had just happened. One minute she was having a lovely afternoon with her family and the next they were all ripped from her grasp.

Something else felt wrong. Horribly wrong.

Ever since he was big enough to move, the unborn Lerel was still. He was usually full of life and constantly kicking his poor mother. Leana would often sit with her head on her mother’s stomach singing to her little brother. Genedara would never hear her children ever again.

Something deep inside of Genedara flushed all positive thought out of her mind. In its place was an endless pool of grief and fury, something she would spend next two decades trying to drain the ocean of loss. Her once positive outlook on life took a drastic and sudden shift, turning her once bright and vibrant life into shades of gray and black. She knew, deep down, that she would never experience another day of joy until the day she died. Only then, wrapped in death’s sweet embrace, would she have the strength to move on.

It felt as if someone else was driving her body when Genedara rose to her feet. She watched herself walk over to Leana and carefully scooped her off the ground before walking over to where her husband lie impaled. Without a word Genedara gently laid her son and daughter down on her husband’s chest and moved his stiff arms so that he was holding the two children.

“I’ll be with you soon, my love,” Genedara muttered as she took a step back. “I love you.”

With a wave of her hand a magical flame consumed the body as if it were soaked in fuel. The grief stricken elf stood there and watched the remains of her family turn to ash, only to be whisked away by the wind. The void in her chest swelled, threatening to consume her. Without really thinking, Genedara dropped down to a squat and picked up a shard of glass. She pressed the glass against her wrist and with a quick jerk to the right split the flesh in two and severing a vein. Blood pumped out of the open would as she slashed her other wrist, dropping the bloody shard to the ground when she was done.

As if moving on autopilot, Genedara walked over to the giant gaping hole in her house. She stepped through the threshold and out into an active battlefield. Her tattered and torn gown fluttered in a warm gust of air that carried the scent of rotting meat. It took her several minutes to realize what was happening all around her. With an indifferent gaze she watched as a guard was cut down by a shambling corpse only to watch him get back up after a couple of minutes. Suddenly she was glad she had burnt the bodies.

At least she wouldn’t have to kill them again.

“Ma’am, you need to evacuate!” A guard shouted as he ran over to the half baked bleeding woman. “Oh shit! You need help! MEDIC!”

“Leave me,” she told the guard before brushing past him. “I am not running away. If I am to die then I will take them all out with me.”

As Genedara advanced she discarded what was left of her gown, letting the once expensive fabric drift to the ground. She strode through the sea of death wearing close to nothing at all, allowing the world to see the Enchantress’s trump card. Tattooed with white ink, an elaborate series of runes covered her entire backside, vanishing into her panties and down her legs. A line of runes ran down both arms, ending at the wrist with a single rune on each hand. She sucked in the smoke filled air as the runes started to give off a brilliant orange glow. One by one the runes were activated, the air around the Mage shimmering as the caster drew in as much mana as her body could contain.

A hand was brought up to the air and was quickly balled into a fist as it was ripped downward. As if out of thin air a cluster of large, flaming rocks came crashing down from the sky. One slammed into a guard, killing her instantly while another smashed into one of the Scourge’s seige engines, killing its crew in the process. As Genedara strode towards the front line bigger balls of molten rock fell from the heavens, indiscriminately killing anything in their paths.

“Oh thank the gods, a Mage!” A wounded guard cried out as Genedara walked past him. “Wait, what are you doing?”

Another guard tried to keep her from advancing, roughly shoving her away from thr bsttlefield. What business did a naked woman have with an ongoing fight for survival? What could she possibly do to slow the advancing Scourge?

“Withdrawal your men and run,” Genedara said as she walked past the highest ranking guard. “Or don’t. I don’t care.”

The captain had never seen a woman so casually walk into a war zone. Nor had he ever witnessed a skilled mage fight as if they had nothing to lose. Fire rained down from the heavens, burning everything in its path, living or not. He could see the energy building up inside of the woman since the air around her glittered like diamonds. Bits and pieces of rubble started to drift upwards, acting as if they were suddenly weightless.

“Shit, pull back, pull back! Move, move, move! She’s going to explode!” the guard ordered his troops.

No one argued with the order and every available guard pulled back from the frontline. They the started gathering up whatever civilians were left and rushed out of the area. Genedara stood there, staring down an army alone. She spread her arms wide, took in a deep breath and muttered the single word of power, effectively ending the casting.

The world went silent. The clash of swords could no longer be heard, nor the angry mashing maws of the Scourge. At first the sound was barely audible but as time went on it grew louder and louder. Just as suddenly as the ringing had started it came to a sudden conclusion. Roughly twenty feet in the air, looming directly over the Scourge’s troops. A single pinprick of light formed and danced around, moving like a panicked animal in a small room. One second it was as small as an ant and the next it was fist sized and emitting a blinding bright light.

Genedara stared at the light for its entire duration, watching as it grew to the size of a melon and then collapsed in on itself. The resulting explosion shook the ground for miles around as a massive plume of smoke and fire rose into the sky. A shockwave tore through the Scourge, obliterating anything in its path. Not a single soul remained where the bomb had gone off. The field around where Genedara once stood was littered with body parts, blood and guts strewn all over. Several of the undead started crawling forward and just like that the Scourge’s numbers were replenished and the advance continued. The explosion, while big, had done little to nothing to an army that grew every time they killed. In time the Scourge would overtake the city and eventually the Sunwell. And once Arthas was done with his conquest the Quel’dorei were left with a broken kingdom and a traumatized populace. Quel’thalas would never be the same.

——-

Genedara dropped out of the sky and hit the ground hard. She groaned softly and rolled onto her back, trying to get an idea as to where she was. Only, she couldn’t see anything. No matter which direction she looked in, or how hard she rubbed her eyes, she would see nothing but darkness. Her body was covered head to toe in severe sunburns, the adrenaline keeping the pain at bay for the time being.

“Holy shit, it’s raining naked women!” a man cried out.

“Oh my gods, cover the children’s eyes!” cried a woman.

“I saw her boobies!” a little boy giggled.

A stranger reached out and cautiously touched the naked elf. A moment later she would be covered with an itchy blanket that only irritated the burns. Someone then helped her up and into a chair. It was then that she realized that she hadn’t landed outside and was instead inside a stranger’s house.

“Whoa, Mary, do your old man a favor and go fetch a healer. Go, go, child! Quickly,” a gentle voice said. “Ma’am do you know where you are?”

“No,” was all the elf said.

“Well, for one you fell out of the sky and into my living room. My daughter ran off to get a healer. Is there anything I can do? You’re bleeding and just covered in burns. What happened? Who are you?”

Despite the volley of questions, Genedara sat there in total silence. She wasn’t intentionally being rude, she was just incapable of processing any new information. Her mind, for the time being, would dwell on the death of her family for several years. It would be sometime before the once happy and outgoing mother could regain any semblance of normality. The first few months were spent at the house where she had appeared while she worked out how she got there. Gene didn’t remember casting a portal and just assumed it was a result of the mana she had pulled into her body.

While the healer tended to her slit wrists, the elf just sat there. She would remain in that chair for the next day, doing nothing but silently staring at nothing, quietly accepting the deaths of her children, both living and unborn. In just a single day Genedara lost everything dear. This is why It chose her. The trauma of the invasion of Quel’thalas would pave the road from the wicked abomination’s eventual possession and ruination of her new life.

[genedara]

A Most Holy Night

This is not real!

But Rose, your mind makes it real.

What are you? Why do you do this to me?!

Because your mind… Is so inviting.

(( The following contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Subjects included are graphic and intense violence, horrific imagery and excessive gore. Read at your own discretion. )

“Compassion,” the preacher started with a warm smile on his lips. “Means to suffer with another person. The word has a strong personal element. To have compassion means more than just feeling sorry for somebody. It means to get down where they are in the midst of their need and to suffer with them in the midst of their pain.”

Assembled before the preacher in his Chasuble and Stole was his adored congregation. They all lived in and around Lakeshire and met up once a week to listen to the preacher speak of the Three Virtues. This week he was speaking of compassion, one of his favorite subjects. What better way to celebrate the Light and its divine power than to help your fellow man?

“When Wesley Webster published An Azeroth Dictionary of the Common Language, he began his definition of compassion this way: “A suffering with another; painful sympathy. Painful sympathy. I like that, but I find it very challenging.

“As an illustration of this “painful sympathy,” Wesley Webster quotes Lukas, “His father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.” That verse is very significant because it shows us that compassion is more than just a feeling.

“It’s not just an emotion. It’s more than feeling sorry for people in trouble. Divine compassion means that you see the problem, you are moved by the need, you go out to where the problem is, and you get your hands dirty trying to help one person after another get their problems solved and raise them up to a higher level of life.”

Just as the preacher opened his mouth to continue with his monologue, the doors to the church banged open. A woman in her twenties exploded into the room, slamming the doors shut behind her. Her clothing was stained in a dark liquid, most likely her or someone else’s blood. The woman’s shoulder length blonde hair was disheveled and her makeup was ruined, dark black tears streaking down her cheeks. Brown eyes were wide with shock, the woman’s chest rising and falling as she rapidly sucked in air.

“Please!” The woman gasped. “I need help!”

The crowd all started talking at once, asking the woman questions while also loudly gossiping with their neighbors. The preacher spread both his arms and shushed his congregation while calmly calling for order. He stepped down from podium and approached the frightened woman. All eyes were on the pair, everyone else on the edge of their seats.

“What troubles you, my child? You are safe here in this house of the Holy Light,” he said softly, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder.

“There’s this woman… She… She killed my husband! We were having a picnic and she appeared out of thin air and started attacking us. Josh stepped in and stopped her from stabbing me only to stab him repeatedly in the chest. He was dead before he the ground,” the woman sobbed.

“I’ll go fetch the guard!” a man shouted as he rose to his feet. “Father, please tend to her. I’ll go to the guard tower and bring them here.”

Without another word, or waiting for the preacher to acknowledge what was said, the man jogged up to the front doors and slipped out into the evening. As the large wooden doors closed the crowd inside could hear the man cry out suddenly before a heavy object slammed against the church’s doors. The congregation seemed to gasp and back away from the source of the noise as a unit rather than a few individuals.

“I got her!” the man shouted, his voice barely audible through the door. “She’s dead now. You can let me back in!”

“Wow, I never knew Saul to be so daring,” an older woman chimed in. “What a good man he is.”

Thinking nothing of it, those that were gathered at the entrance seemed to relax. The preacher lifted his hand off the woman’s shoulder and approached the left door. He grunted and pulled it open to let Saul back inside. A figure darted into the church and the doors were quickly closed behind them. No one seemed to notice that it wasn’t Saul that was let in, but a stranger to the congregation.

Instead of the brave man stood a petite elven woman with platinum blonde hair that was pulled into a tight ponytail. She was dressed in a black cloak with the hood resting on her shoulders. Her clothing spoke of someone who had access to finer materials and tailors. Obviously this elven woman was rich, a seemingly common trait shared among her people.

“You appear to be in possession of something that belongs to me,” the elven woman said, her voice flat and devoid of any emotion. “Please give it back and I will leave.”

“It?!” the preacher asked, eyes wide with shock. “Ma’am, this is a woman. You cannot own this woman, friend. Perhaps you are mistaken?”

“SILENCE!” boomed a voice in the minds of everyone assembled on the supposed holy ground. The preacher shrunk into himself and took a tentative step backwards, clearly intimidated by this stranger. Everyone else followed suit, many of the congregation taking a seat in their respective pew. Whatever this was, it had nothing to do with them.

“Do my words fall on deaf ears? Give me the girl and I will spare you and your…” the woman paused, looking over the men, women and children gathered around her. “Congregation. Do this one simple task and no one else will die.”

“You’re not taking the pretty lady,” a little boy shouted before his parents shoved him out of sight.

“Never mind the boy, he is too young to understand,” the boy’s father said softly. “Father, for the sake of our children I think it would be wise to let the woman go and stay out of their business. I’m not going to sacrifice my child for a stranger.”

“But this is what my sermon was about! Compassion!” the preacher cried out, visibly upset that one of his congregation would give up a defenseless woman to an obvious predator. He turned to the elven woman, looking into her milky white eyes before defiantly shaking his head.

“No,” he said, puffing out his chest and standing straight. “No, you will not take this woman with you. I will not stand idly by and let you hurt this beautiful and wonderful person. You’ll have to get through me first.”

(( Suggested listening: https://youtu.be/8vWGru993zU?si=AQ0BXVW3iLVzRCXm ))

The elven woman sighed and said,” So be it.” She then spread her arms wide, as if welcoming a loved one’s embrace and let her eyes slowly close. Her chest rose as she sucked in air and while exhaling words of power were spoken under her breath. The lit candle’s flames began to dance as if there was a breeze indoors. One by one the candles went out and with each flame’s disappearance the congregation all gasped in unison. When the final fire winked out someone started to scream before being shushed by someone else.

A single fist sized orb appeared out of thin air, hanging above the preacher and his congregation. The orb hung there, providing a smidgen of light so the room wasn’t cast into complete darkness. A soft thump came from the elven woman when she dropped down to her knees. Her wide spread arms dropped down to her sides and her head was tilted back. An unfriendly smile spread across her lips as a cloud of thick black smoke poured from her mouth.

“What in the name of all that is holy,” muttered the preacher as he gawked at the impossible sight before him.

The smoke twisted and danced midair before forming a pillar a couple feet in front of the now kneeling elven woman. Something started to form within the smoke, an unholy abomination that should not exist. A large, bulbous head sat on a thick neck. A deep gash separated the head into two halves with a cancerous growth jutting forth from the center. A pair of silver discs floated in the inky darkness that was its eye sockets. A large mouth hung partially open, revealing row after row of razor sharp teeth glistening in the orb’s pale violet glow. Long, muscular arms hung at the creature’s sides, long black talons burst forth from its fingertips. The thing had no genitals between its muscular legs.

“Behold, the Hungry God,” breathed the elven woman, tears of joy trailing down her cheeks. “Rise, rise my most holy one.”

The abomination took in a deep, gurgling breath and exhaled slowly, its breath rancid. It looked at the preacher with its cold, dead eyes, weighing his sins on a rigged scale. Without a word it strode forward and reached up with a clawed hand, gently caressing the preacher’s face. It reached up with both hands now, cradling the man’s head.

“Kneel before me,” the thing demanded, not just of the priest but his congregation. “KNEEL!”

Several people cried out in terror as everyone dropped down to their knees. An invisible force pushed against their backs, forcing their foreheads to touch the church’s hardwood flooring. No matter how hard they resisted, the thing was stronger than they were. It seemed to radiate despair, a feeling that wormed its way into the minds of everyone assembled before it. The preacher started to sob, trying the hardest out of everyone to raise his head. He wanted nothing more than to cease this unholy worship but was powerless to act.

“Before you stands a true god,” the elven woman called out, speaking reverently of her deity. “And he is hungry! The Light will not save you this day! Today you become one with a true god. Your religion speaks falsehoods! The only truth is His divine word! Only He can lead us to salvation! Join me, brothers and sisters! Join us! Become one with Him! LET. HIM. IN!”

“NO!” shouted the preacher with a flash of blinding golden light. He defied the being before him and confidently rose to his feet, feeling empowered by the Light’s holy power. The eyes of the congregation fell upon their shepherd, their hearts swelling with pride for they were about to be saved.

“I cannot, will not let you harm these people! Your days of praying upon the weak are done! Let the holy Light wash through you and cleanse you of these wicked thoughts!”

The thing chuckled as flames engulfed the preacher. His screams were agonizing on the ear, his voice a high pitched wail. He dropped to the ground and rolled around but the flames did not go out. His congregation watched in horror as their preacher was roasted alive before their very eyes. One would assume that after a while you stop screaming but something kept the preacher lucid enough to register the pain he was in. His death seemed to take forever, his voice growing weaker and weaker before simply ceasing to be. Smoke poured off his body, the sickening scent of cooked human meat filling everyone’s nostrils.

“Your Light is a lie!” the elven woman said in a joyful tone. “You’re just sheep following the shepherd without a single unique thought. Look and see where your religion has brought you. Do you think the Light is going to sweep in and save you? Hah! The Light doesn’t care about you or your problems. In the end you’re just meat for the grinder.

“Wasting your fucking lives away, worshiping something as vague as *light*. Before you stands a true god. He will lift you from your struggles and bring prosperity to you and yours. Abandon the Light and walk His path. Only then will you know true love.”

The thing stood there basking in the praise of his most loyal disciple. His wicked lips curled into a cocky smirk, silver eyes watching the confused masses. He could hear the thoughts of a handful of the congregation thinking about his disciple’s offer. He continued to allow her to speak, knowing the end of her speech was rapidly approaching.

“Listen to my words, brothers and sisters, for I shall not repeat myself a second time! You have been presented with a most generous gift, a gift of power and immortality. Will you rise above your peers and accept this gift or will you grovel in the dirt? Act now, for death swiftly approaches. You will not be given a second chance!”

After a minute passed the elven woman scoffed and slowly rose to her feet. She approached the thing from behind and wrapped her arms around its torso and buried her face in its back. When it became apparent that no one was going to accept their offer, the thing slowly drew his disciple into his body. Once she was out of sight an ear splitting BOOM resounded and a shockwave ripped through the church, causing little to no physical damage to any of the people or the church itself.

It was then when the crowd lost their collective minds and started to scream bloody murder. The adults turned on the children and tore their flesh from their bones. Their parents wore their children’s skin as they made love next to their corpses. A woman laughed menacingly as she tore at her face. Her fingers pressed into her eye sockets and tore them free from her body, squishing them with her bare hands. A child could be seen strangling his mother as his unborn sister tore through her uterus. A small, bloody hand burst forth from her mother’s gut as it wailed in agony.

A pair of brothers stripped and tore chunks from their bodies and threw the wads of flesh at the smoldering remains of the preacher. A grown man with long blond hair sat in the corner furiously jerking off through the entangled mess of his own intestines. A small girl, no older than three crawled over to her grandfather and bit his neck and tore away the jugular vein. Blood squirted from the fresh wound, drenching the girl in a matter of seconds. A mother clutched her daughter’s head with both hands and repeatedly smashed it against one of the pews. With each blow the sound of her skull cracking filled the air, barely audible over the violent orgy. A pair of women fucked each other on the corpses of their beheaded children, morning loudly while a naked man flayed their skin off.

The abomination looked upon his kingdom, basking in the collective suffering. It bathed in the violence, seemingly empowered by the gruesome display. The elven woman had made her master very happy. She watched from her place on the floor, smiling up at her Hungry God. The two would remain in the church for as long as the congregation was still alive. When their lives finally ceased to be the woman and her abomination simply walked out the front door leaving the mess behind without a care in the world. This would not be His last feast.

(( The credit and original author of the preacher’s sermon belongs to the following website. https://www.keepbelieving.com/sermon/compassion-more-than-a-bleeding-heart/ Text was modified to fit WoW’s lore on the Light and religion. ))

#Youtube

[genedara]

Death is Only the Beginning

Death is Only the Beginning

When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth.

(( The following contains scenes of intense and graphic violence and horrific imagery. Read at your own discretion. ))

(( Recommend listening: https://youtu.be/DCOyCpVmHqc?si=GNt1bes6ntnaKPq7 ))

Jacob’s bare feet pounded on the cobblestone road that cut through southern Duskwood. It was impossible to tell what the time of day was, the land curse with foul magics making night everlasting. The young adult’s clothing were nothing more than blood stained tattered rags. His slacks were peppered with holes created by moths feasting on the fabric. He glanced back, preying that the evil bitch wasn’t following him.

“Hello?! Anybody!” Jacob cried out. “I need help!”

Off in the distance a wolf, or a wooden, let loose a loud howl. The sound was then repeated way off in the distance and then followed by a howl that sounded a few feet away. Jacob did his best to put the petal to the metal, his arms pumping as he sprinted down the road. He could feel fatigue creeping into his muscles. A knot formed in his claves, forcing the malnourished man to slow his pace. Something sharp pressed into the soft flesh on the bottom of Jacob’s feet. He let out a whimper of pain but kept running, leaving behind several drops of crimson liquid.

“HELP!”

Off in the distance a flickering light came into view. A shadowy figure was jogging down the path, a lantern in one hand and a shield in the other. The stranger was flanked by another person in similar armor, carrying both a short sword and a wooden buckler. Judging by their matching tabards it would appear as if they were members of the Night’s Watch. The one carrying the lantern was a handsome man in his forties, his companion a woman in her early twenties. One of them spotted the fleeing man, waving an arm in the air to draw his attention.

Something shot past him, flying past his right shoulder and eventually planted itself firmly in the woman’s chest. Even from a distance Jacob heard her let out a surprised yelp as she was taken off her feet. Her friend came to a skidding halt and dropped down to her side, eyes wide with panic. Nestled firmly in the left side of her chest was a large spike of ice.

Without slowing down, Jacob closed the gap between him and his would be rescuers. He dropped down to a squat, eyes locked west, the direction from which he was fleeing. Seeing no one in his way, Jacob finally looked down at the female guard and saw how severe her wound was. A large shard of nice, easily two feet in length was protruding from the woman’s chest, nestled deep in her right lung. She struggled to draw in air, her pretty blue eyes full of fear. Her friend’s face was pale, knowing he wasn’t equipped to deal with a wound this severe.

“You there, lad, I need you to go to town and get a medic,” the remaining Night’s Watchman said, taking hold of the woman’s hand with both of his own. “Go on!”

Before Jacob could move, the male watchman dropped his friend’s hand with a startled gasp and withdrew as if he had touched a hot stove. The woman had begun to writhe around on the ground, jaw clenched tight as a groan of pain pressed past her teeth. Her body began to convulse as she slipped into a seizure. When it looked as if everything was going to be okay the woman fell still and went limp.

“Oh thank god tha-“ her friend started a moment before the woman’s head popped like a pimple.

Bits of skull and brain blew out in every direction, coating both Jacob and the remaining guard in grey matter. A gurgle sounded from the ruined stump of a neck, blood squirting out of the exposed veins. Her body convulsed one final time and then went limp. Blood pooled around her body, her heart stubbornly refusing to grow still. Jacob looked up at her friend, the two men looking shaken and wildly disturbed.

“What the fuck was that?!” The guard asked no one in particular, eyes locked on the headless body.

“Why the fuck do you think I was crying out for help?” Jacob shot back, glaring at the Night’s Watch guardsman.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do about exploding heads?! We thought you were getting messed up by some feral!”

Jacob reached out and took hold of the man’s chest plate and gave him a rough shake. Finally the guard looked up from his dead friend, his eyes initially landing on Jacob before settling on something behind him.

“Halt! We are in need of assistance!” The guard called out into the night.

Jacob looked at the guard first and then behind him to see who the man was talking to. From the darkness stepped an elven woman with platinum blonde hair and milky white eyes. Her clothing was form fitting and looked to be worth more than Jacob makes in a year. This was the thing he had been running from. The thing that had kept him in a dark basement for three days. The thing that murdered all of his friends before his eyes.

“Oh fuck,” Jacob muttered and crawled backwards and away from the elf. “This bitch has had me locked in her basement for days. She killed all of my friends!”

“The boy lies,” the elf said, speaking loudly so she could be heard clearly. “I have not killed anyone.”

“Yes you did, you lying bitch! I watched you cut Stephen’s neck!” Jacob shouted back at her. “She lies! She’s been torturing us!”

“But Jacob,” the elf said as a smile slowly spread across her face. “Your friends are right here.”

As if on cue a large humanoid took up place next to the elven woman. What stood next to her could easily be called an abomination. A misshapen head set upon broad shoulders. It appeared as if the creature’s skull had split apart, a partially formed head growing out of the ruined skull. The creature’s flesh glistened in the moonlight, two sets of yellow eyes staring down at the much smaller men. Its body was well defined and naked but lacked any genitals or other defining traits. The abomination looked as if it was made with parts from different donors. A single black arm hung at its side, the opposite arm a light brown and a good two inches shorter.

“See? Stephen’s right there,” the elven woman hummed. “Go on now, go give your friend a hug.”

The abomination let loose a low, throaty grumble as it stumbled forward. It spread its arms wide as its pace quickened, quickly closing the gap between Jacob and the elven woman. He tensed up and covered his face with both hands, dropping down to a squat. Rather than go after the cowering boy, the creature stormed up to the guard, grabbed him by the neck with one hand and hoisted him off the ground.

Taking hold of the guard’s left arm, the abomination tore it off with a surprising amount of ease. It dropped the arm to the ground like a child discarding a broken toy. The guard’s screams only managed to rise in pitch as his right arm was also ripped off. Blood squirted from the depths of the guard’s shoulders, strands of sinew and torn flesh dancing in a gentle breeze. The abomination dropped the guard who surprisingly landed on his feet. The instant he was freed from the creature’s grasp he took off running back towards Darkshire.

Letting loose a deep, rumbling roar, the abomination charged after the fleeing guard. It closed the gap between them with only a few foot falls, reaching out with a large, clawed hand shot out and grabbed the guard’s tunic and pulled on it. The guard’s head whipped back and forth, screaming the entire time. Another monstrous hand took hold of his right leg and pulled it out from under him.

“Kill him,” the elven woman ordered.

Another roar rushed out of the abomination as it picked up the guard and violently smashed him into the cobblestone walkway. The guard’s cries were instantly silenced, the second blow caving in his head. With the third strike his head split open and spewed brains all over the road. Not satisfied with this gruesome display, the creature dropped the guard to the ground. It would then start stomping on the corpse, several loud, sickening crunches could be heard as bones shattered. The guard’s intestines squirted out of the side of his abdomen the moment a tear had formed. The stink of death saturated the air, hanging there like a grim reminder of what had just transpired.

Jacob sat on the ground, completely and utterly defeated. He knew that escape would be impossible and death was a certainty. He looked up at the elven woman, who stood there smiling her not-friendly smile. He could see the malice dancing in her eyes, listening with glee to the disturbing noises the abomination was making as it shoveled chunks of guard into its double jointed jaw. With each piece torn off Jacob would physically cringe, doing just best to keep the contents of his stomach down.

“See? Your friends are just fine,” the elven woman said as she strode over to Jacob. “I think it’s time for you to join them, Jacob.”

“N-no! Fuck you, y-y-you bitch!” He managed to stutter, feet seeping into every ounce of his body.

The elven woman just smiled as the abomination    turned its hungry gaze over at the sole survivor. Its double jointed jaw hung open, a swirling mass of tentacles dancing in the back of its throat. A large hand reached out and pulled Jacob off the ground, hoisting him into the air by his throat. The young man could do nothing but watch as the creature drew its face closer to his. The tentacles flopped out of the abomination’s maw, slick with a sticky substance. Once they were within range they took hold of Jacob’s head, drawing him closer and closer until it was practically sucking on his face. As if their presence alone wasn’t enough, the writhing tentacles pushed into Jacob’s skin, violently probing deeper and deeper until the two beings were one.

“Come my child, we must leave. More are coming and it is not yet time to reveal ourselves,” the elven woman muttered, staring off in the distance beyond the abomination.

“Yessssssssss mother,” a low, gravely voice said.

The abomination dropped Jacob’s lifeless body. His head had been torn off and much of his neck was gone as well. Entire chunks of flesh were missing from his shoulders and chest, black blood oozing out of the fresh wounds. His body fell on top of what was left of the two guards, three people reduced to stripped corpses and food for scavengers. The elven woman and her creation slipped into the dark forest, leaving behind a mess that would confuse the locals and authorities.

[genedara]

Lost and Found

You think your nighttime world is closed to me? Your mind is so naked. A book that yearns to be read. A door that begs to be opened.

(( The following contains explicit language, derogatory sexual remarks, scenes of intense, graphic violence and horrific imagery. Read at your own discretion. ))

“Thanks for coming out with me everyone,” Regan said, offering his four friends a tired smile. “I know Tristian was a good friend to all of you and I know he’d be happy to know that you’re all looking for him.”

Ellen reached out and placed a comforting hand on Regan’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He stood there before everyone else wringing his hands together, looking as if he hadn’t slept in days. His dark brown hair was disheveled, greasy and uncombed, as if he had just rolled out of bed. Dark bags hung under Regan’s bloodshot eyes which were locked onto the floor.

“We all miss Tristian so it makes sense to look for him together. Plus, you could probably use the company. I know it’s never easy for you when he goes on those long trips of his,” Claire said, nudging Bodie with an elbow.

“Yeah, she’s right. It’s better to have four sets of eyes than one,” Bodie added. “I know he said he was headed to Surwich and had planned on making a stop in Darkshire before riding hard to Surwich. We should probably start there. It’s only a short walk away so we can get some answers today if we get going now.”

“Gross, we have to go through Duskwood? I hate that place. It’s full of giant spiders and feral Worgen,” Ellen said with a full body shiver. “Tristian is lucky he’s my brother otherwise I’d just stay home.”

“Alright,” Regan muttered after everyone else had finished talking. “I agree with Bodie. We’ll start in Duskwood and go from there. Hopefully there will be someone around who saw him pass through.”

Once the group had decided where to start, the four friends set out for Duskwood. They had all met up at Eastvale Logging Camp and started heading west before going south at a fork in the road. As the group made their way through Elwynn Forest they spoke among themselves, occasionally breaking the tension with humor. Regan had been a worried wreck for the last week and welcomed the company after spending the last three weeks alone. It had been a while before everyone had the time to meet up at once, something they all tried to do once a month. It was a shame they had to meet under these circumstances, their meetings were often filled with copious amounts of ale and good times.

The hours ticked by and eventually the group found themselves standing in the center of Darkshire. Claire and Ellen wandered around the fountain in town square, taking turns flicking coins into the water, hopeful for their wishes to come true. Bodie went to enter the forge but found the building empty with no sign of its owner. Given the permanent dusk that Duskwood was named after, it was difficult to gauge what time it was. Midnight or noon the woods were the same, dark and foreboding.

While the group was busying themselves with poking around the quiet town for clues a woman emerged out of the gloom. She made her way through the square, paying no attention to the four friends. Bodie’s green eyes followed the woman, making note of her outfit which screamed wealth. The woman obviously cared about keeping up with the latest fashions, wearing a set of light armor that originated from the Dragon Isles. Black and red mixed in with gold with a long, finely woven scarf with both ends tossed behind her. The woman reached up with both hands and gently pulled back her hood, revealing platinum hair pulled into a ponytail. Bodie let out a surprised breath when he saw her cloudy white eyes, a tall-tell sign that she was blind.

“Huh, no wonder she didn’t notice any of us,” Bodie muttered under his breath as he stared the woman down.

Claire and Ellen looked up from the fountain's water, turning their attention to the pretty elven woman. The two women looked over at Regan as he paced around, strung out and more nervous than before now that they were in Duskwood proper. He had heard so many horror stories about crazy Worgen, zombies and spiders as big as a horse. Why Tristian wanted to stop here would forever be a mystery to him. One of the women started snapping her fingers, pointing at the woman with a smile.

“Hey, go ask her. She’s the first person we’ve seen since we got here,” Claire said with a soft smile.

“Excuse me, miss, can I borrow a moment of your time?” Regan asked the elven woman after cautiously approaching her.

“Ah!” the woman let out a startled yelp and placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, my apologies. You startled me. I didn’t know there was anyone else outside at this hour. What can I do for you?”

“Well, we’re looking for someone. His name is Tristian. He passed through Darkshire on his way to Surwich a couple weeks ago. He was supposed to be home last week but he never showed up and now he’s been missing for a week,” Regan managed to get out, letting the words flow out of him once he started talking.

“I do seem to recall a gentleman passing through recently. I couldn’t get a good look at him but I remember hearing someone mention they were on their way to Surwich. I think he went that way,” the woman said and pointed west, the opposite direction Tristian was supposed to be headed.

“Are you sure about that?” Ellen said as she approached the pair. “That’s not the way to Surwich. Did he say why he was going the way?”

“Something about a shortcut through Stranglethorn Vale. I wasn’t really paying attention so I’m not one hundred percent sure.”

Regan and Ellen exchanged a glance before looking back at the other two. “Well,” Ellen said with a look of worry spreading across her features. “It’s better than nothing. Do you guys want to try making the trip now or wait until tomorrow morning?”

“Fuck,” Claire spat. “I really don’t want to spend the night here and I super don’t want to walk through at night.”

“It’s always night here, Claire,” Bodie chimed in.

“But why?”

“Dude, I don’t know. Magic or some shit. I’m a prison guard not a historian.”

“Your friend is correct,” the elven woman said, putting an end to the debate. “It was magic. Fel magic, to be specific. It warped and twisted the land and eventually turned it into what it is today.”

“Oh,” Bodie said. “Thanks for that. I guess. Didn’t really ask, but okay.”

“Don’t be rude,” Claire said, roughly elbowing Bodie’s side.

“It’s quite alright,” the woman said after softly chuckling. “Duskwood tends to make new comers a tad jumpy. If you and your friends are looking to travel now, I can accompany you.”

“Are you sure?” Ellen asked, pointing at the woman’s white eyes. “With you being blind and all.”

“I’m blind, not disabled,” she replied with a sigh. One of the woman’s hands reached up to her belt and removed what looked like a bundle of white sticks. With a flick of her wrist the sticks unfolded into a four foot long, thin white cane. At the tip of the cane was a small round ball of felt to keep it from making noises as it guided its wielder to her destination.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Ellen said quietly, looking away as her cheeks burned red from the embarrassment. “I don’t meet many blind people.”

“It’s quite alright,” the woman said with a smile. “I’m used to the comments people often make. No harm done.”

“So, what do you think, Regan?” Claire asked her friend.

“I’d rather get out of Duskwood as soon as possible. There’s a camp at the entrance of Stranglethorn we can crash at for the night before we head further south.”

“Fuck,” Bodie let out, kicking the ground. “Really don’t like this, guys. Whole thing stinks. Why don’t we just talk to my boss and see if he can help us find him. I feel like we’re in over our heads. None of us are adventurers or heroes, Regan. We’re just people.”

“Speak for yourself,” Claire said with a huff. “I happen to be quite good at spell slinging these days. I could kick your ass any day.”

“Eat shit,” Bodie replied, raising both middle fingers and waving them around dramatically.

“Guys, come on, not really the time to aggressively flirt with each other,” Ellen said with a roll of her eyes. “So, anyway, as we were saying, what are we doing, Regan?”

“We go with her,” was all he said.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Bodie whispered.

“Well, if there are no further objections I think it would be best if we got moving now. Is there anything you need to collect from the inn?” the elven woman asked the group.

“No, we only just arrived in town a few minutes before you showed up. That and we’re traveling light,” Regan replied with a nod of his head. “We can get going whenever you’re ready.”

With a nod of her head the elven woman turned and started walking off towards the west, sweeping the area in front of her with the tip of her white cane. The four friends reluctantly followed behind the stranger, keeping a short distance between the group and their guide. Bodie took up spot at the rear, one of his hands coming to rest on the hilt of his sword, the other reaching back to verify that his buckler was still strapped to his back. No one in the four person group was wearing any real armor and it was just Bodie who came armed. Claire was indeed a mage, but she wasn’t the greatest mage in the world. She wasn’t even a good mage, she was just alright. Typically Tristian would run point on an adventure like this, but his disappearance was the whole reason they were out here.

“Do you live out here, ma’am?” Claire asked their guide.

“I don’t live here full time,” the woman replied. “I have a small cabin not far from here that I stay at when I am too tired for the trek back to Elwynn Forest.”

“What’s it like living out here? Is it really as dangerous as they say?”

“It can be dangerous, but it’s not like that all the time. The Worgen are usually more active when it’s a full moon and the spiders stick to their territory, usually feasting on aforementioned Worgen. And no, we’re not near any of their territories. The Night Watch makes regular patrols at all hours of the day s the roads are relatively safe.”

“How long have you lived out here?” Claire asked, refusing to let silence fill the air.

“A few years at least. I used to come out here just for the quiet so I could focus on my studies and develop new and interesting enchantments.”

“Oh! You’re a mage, like me! Gosh, I should’ve known that. You certainly look like one!” Claire gushed as she fell in stride with their guide. The rest of the group kept to themselves, listening to the two women talk.

“I am indeed a mage,” the woman said with a light chuckle. “How long have you been training?”

“Oh, uh, not that long, honestly. I’ve been at it for a couple of years now but I’m not all that great.”

“HAH!” Bodie blurted out from the rear. “You DO suck!”

“Oh shut up. At least I can read.”

Bodie’s cheeks flared red as he looked away and then down at the ground. “Fuck you. I’m not the son of a baron like you. Some of us had to had to work our entire lives.”

The group then carried on with their journey in an awkward and tense silence between them. Their guide was quiet and only spoke if she was spoken to. The four friends all stuck close together, letting the elven woman lead the way from a little distance. Bodie didn’t trust the stranger, having heard enough horror stories about Duskwood to know better than to blindly trust a stranger. It didn’t matter if that stranger was a smoking hot Quel’dorei woman still in her youth. Gods, what Bodie wouldn’t do to land a woman like that. He couldn’t help but glance down at the woman’s rear, watching it shift as she walked, almost mesmerized.

A roll of thunder sounded off in the distance, causing both Ellen and Claire to jump, the latter letting out cry of surprise. Bodie’s hand instinctively fell to the hilt of his sword, his eyes scaning the area for any possible threats. Regan looked up, hoping to find the sky, but instead was met with a mess of trees blocking out the stars. No wonder it was so dark all the time, too many tall trees.

“That’s not good,” the elven woman said, glancing back at the four friends. “A storm’s blowing in from the south. We can either keep going on or take shelter at my cabin.”

“I really don’t want to be stuck in Duskwood at night. In the rain. With a thunderstorm. No thank you,” Ellen said, looking between her friends.

“Not a good idea. Let’s head back to town and get a room at the inn. We can dry off there,” Bodie said before lowering his voice so that only his friends could hear him. “I don’t trust the blind lady.”

“You don’t trust anyone, Bodie,” Claire whispered back. “Darkshire is two hours in the opposite direction, the one we just came from. Do you really want to spend the next two hours walking through the pouring rain in an area known to have a feral Worgen problem? We stay at her place for the night. I am not walking back to Darkshire.”

“Claire’s right,” Regan added. “Walking two hours in the rain is not an idea situation. We go with her and that’s final. I don’t like it anymore than you, Bodie, but we don’t have a choice. You, however, are more than welcome to walk back alone if you really don’t want to come with us.”

“Fuck you and fuck that. I’ll come with you but I will not be happy about it!”

“Bodie, you’re never happy!” Claire added.

“Okay, you two just need to fuck and get it over with. I am so over the sexual tension between you two,” Ellen groaned. “Miss, we’re going with you, so let’s get going.”

Not wanting to get stuck in the rain, the elven woman picked up her pace and the rest of the group followed suite. A bolt of lightning briefly illuminated the area in a blinding flash and a clap of thunder sounded mere seconds afterward. Knowing this meant the storm was almost on top of them, the woman broke into a light jog. She lead them down a narrow dirt road that peeled off from the main road going west, guiding them south.

The group passed through a break in the trees and onto what was once farmland. Tall grass surrounded the weed infested field, a few stray clumps of wheat peppering the soil. Given how most plant life needed sun to survive it was of no surprise to see the field devoid of any worthwhile crops and littered with weeds. The house, while small, was nice and unlike the field, was actively maintained.

It didn’t look like the den of a murderer, so the four friends reluctantly made their way inside the cabin, being led in by their guide. Once the front door opened the fireplace lit itself and every candle in the building wooshed to life, the fires dancing in the wind from outside. With everyone inside the elven woman closed the door and motioned towards a small, round table.

“Please, make yourselves at home. I’m going to step into the other room and get some bedding for you all,” the woman said with a soft smile before vanishing into another room.

The group looked around the room they were currently in, making note of the fireplace, the table and the small kitchen that dominated half the room. A door leading into a small room with wooden tub sitting in the center with a spot under it to light a fire and warm the water drawn from the well outside. Eventually the four friends sat down, encircling the small kitchen table.

“So, how is everyone?” Bodie asked, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Lovely place we found ourselves in. Two hours west of any help should our host decide to chop us into bits and fed to her pet Worgen.”

“Dude, seriously, stop!” Claire groaned, punching Bodie in the arm. “Bad enough we’re stuck here. We don’t need you and your attitude.”

Outside another lightning lit the night sky, the ensuing clap of thunder shaking the walls of the cabin. The silence that followed was replaced by heavy rain pelting the roof of the cabin effectively trapping the four friends with their elven host. Bodie tried cracking another joke but Regan shut him up with a glare and a shake of his head.

After about fifteen minutes passed and the elven woman was nowhere to be seen. The house wasn’t big so there’s no way she could’ve gotten turned around and gotten lost. No one remembered seeing a second floor and it wasn’t common for a flight of stairs leading into a basement to be built in a bedroom. Claire and Ellen exchanged glances before looking at Bodie.

“Hey, Mr. Stormwind Guard. Why don’t you go and see where our new friend went? You’re the one with the sword after all,” Claire asked her friend, offering him a forced smile. “Please? I’m getting weirded out.”

“Ugh,” Bodie groaned as he purposely shoved his chair back, making as much noise as humanly possible. “Hello, blind lady?”

Claire reached up and smacked Bodie’s thigh, shooting him a glare that could melt ice.

“Right. Sorry. Hello? Lady who never gave us her name? Are you okay in there?” Bodie asked as he approached the door their host had vanished behind. He reached up and hesitantly knocked on the door. On the second knock the door drifted ajar, the hinges squealing in protest. “Hellllloo?”

Silence was his answer.

“Okay, seriously, you’re starting to creep me out. You in there lady?” he asked, pushing the door open.

Beyond the door was a modest sized bedroom, the walls lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with a various assortment of books of all sizes and colors. The bed looked as if it were stuffed with down rather than hay, an obvious sign of wealth to the poor as dirt prison guard. A large dresser stood in front of the only set of windows looking outside, the doors wide open. Inside was women’s clothing, all made of the finest materials money could by. Such displays of wealth was odd this far from civilization, in an area known for its random violent encounters.

“Uhhhh… Guys? The room’s empty,” Bodie said after scanning the room and eventually looking back at his friends. “Seriously. Weird lady is straight up gone.”

“What?” Ellen asked no one in particular as she got up from her seat. She strode over to where Bodie was and peeked into the room, expecting her friend to be playing one of his pranks on her. But that was no the case. Just as he said the room was empty, the elven woman nowhere to be seen. The only doorway leading in and out of the room was the one they stood in and the window was hidden by the dresser.

“Holy shit, you’re telling the truth. Guys, she’s really gone. Like, there’s nowhere she could go. She was small, but not small enough to fit under that,” Ellen said, pointing at the bed that was mere inches off the ground, far too narrow for an adult to fit.

Regan and Claire looked at each other, both of them suddenly looking very anxious. Where in the world did their host go? Was it normal for elven women to staight up ditch the people they were helping? Or were they brought here for a specific reason? Neither of the four friends intended on finding out.

“Bodie, you were right. We should have walked back to town. Fuck!” Regan shouted, kicking one of the chairs.

“What’s stopping us from leaving now?” Bodie asked as he strode over to the front door. He took hold of the knob and gave it a twist only to discover that it wouldn’t budge an inch. “Fuck, it won’t budge!”

“Hold on, let me try. You have arms like my little sister,” Claire said as she got up from her seat and roughly pushing Bodie out of the way. She took hold of the door knob with both hands and strained as she tried to twist it to the right. Just like Bodie before her, she was unable to get the knob to twist no matter how much muscle she put into it.

“Fuck this,” she said, releasing the knob. She then held her hands close to the door knob and allowed her eyes to flutter closed. Her mouth moved without making a sound as she started mentally reciting a simple spell she had mastered not long ago. Rather than summoning some kind of fire, Claire instead heated up the metal of the door knob to the point where it radiated heat, glowing bright red.

The door knob came loose and fell to the ground with a dull thump before burning through the wooden floorboard. With that gone Bodie took hold of the door where the knob used to be and pulled back hard. He expected to go flying backwards and was surprised when the door continued to remain closed. There were no other locks or knobs that anyone could see. It was almost as if the door had been barred on the other side, which would explain why they were unable to get it to open. But surely if such a thing had happened they would have heard it.

“Okay, I’m starting to freak out,” Ellen squeaked, fanning herself with one hand while pacing around the room. “Bodie, use a chair and break one of the windows.”

Before he could reply Regan stood up, grabbed his chair by the back and hurled it at the window in the kitchen. The chair hit the window and simply bounced off and proceeded to break upon impact with the floor. The group stood there in shocked silence, staring at the now broken chair.

“Dude, what the fuck is that window made out of?” Bodie asked no one in particular.

“Okay, so that didn’t work. Now try your sword,” Ellen said, pointing at the window. “Please. I want to leave.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he muttered, stepping forward and drawing his short sword. Without any kind of flourish Bodie charged forward and attempt to drive the sword through the window. The moment his sword made contact an ear shattering explosion rang out and he was thrown backwards into the kitchen table. For the briefest of moments the window had a mirror like sheen to it before once more appearing as a normal window.

“Guys, the window. It’s enchanted with a barrier spell. No one here is going to be able to break something like that,” Claire said upon realizing what was happening. “We’re trapped in here. But why? The weird elf lady vanished and it’s just us in here.”

“It is just us here, right?” Ellen asked.

As if on cue a hidden door burst open, the door slamming on the floor, startling everyone at the same time. The four friends all turned to look at the source of the noise, eyes wide. Judging by the floorboards nailed to the door to blend it in with the floor it was obvious the maker wanted it hidden. The smell of moist soil and something sickeningly sweet wafted upwards through the portal, rushing outward as if the room below was kept under pressure.

“I think I just peed my pants…” Ellen muttered.

“Me too,” Claire quietly replied.

All four let out shouts of surprise when a hand was thrust out of the darkness, fingers splayed out, palm facing the wall. The hand was roughly slapped onto the floorboard before being joined by a second hand. They worked together and pulled up the weight of their owner as they slowly drew their body out of the gloom. The screams were replaced with shocked gasps as Tristian emerged from the hole in the floor.

Tristian was naked from the waist up, his body covered in what appeared to be fresh soil. His flesh was ghastly white and nigh transparent and it looked as if he had lost forty pounds. The group watched their once missing friend draw himself up onto his feet. Bodie was the first to step forward, throwing his arms wide.

“HEY! We’ve been looking all over for you? The fuck are you doing here half naked? Did that crazy bitch trap you downstairs for the last three weeks? Sure looks like it,” he said, speaking quickly and barely giving his friend a chance to get a word in.

But he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t even look Bodie in the eyes when he punched a hole in his chest. Tristian held Bodie’s still beating heart in his hand after punching through his spine, soaked in his friend’s blood.

“Wut th’ fuck?” Bodie slurred, his eyes rolling into the back of their sockets. He fell backwards and hit the ground hard, the back of his head reverberating off the floor. Blood pooled out of the hole in his chest, soaking its way into the wooden floorboards and into the basement.

Claire started screaming the moment her brain registered what had just happened. Her brain short circuited, a lance of sheer terror shooting through her heart. The phrase scared stupid applied to her as she tripped over her own feet, falling on top of Bodie’s body. She scream babbled, roughly slapping his cheek as if she were trying to wake him from a nightmare.

Tristian reached down and grabbed the screaming Claire with a fistful of her long blonde hair. He yanked her backwards and down into the basement where she continued to scream. The sickly looking man then turned his burning gaze on Ellen and Regan, who were both watching in stunned silence as Tristian tore through two of their friends.

“Baby, w-why are you doing this? Th-these are your friends!” Regan asked his boyfriend between sobs. He hadn’t even realized he started wailing, mourning the loss of not just his best friend but also the man he loved. This… Thing was not Tristian. Not his Tristian. He is not, was not capable of such an act. Tristian was a good man.

“You will know fear,” Tristian said, his voice several octaves lower than usual. His deep bass of a voice reverberated in the room, forcing a shiver down Ellen’s and Regan’s spines. They both shuddered in unison, mouths agape and eyes wide with panic. “The screaming bitch is first.”

Tristian smiled at the two, knowing they were trapped upstairs with nowhere to go. And then, without another word, he leapt into the hole, vanishing into the darkness. He landed without making a noise and remain crouched down, smiling at the still screaming Claire. She had been writhing around on the ground, a fear unlike anything she ever experienced ripping through her body. It was as if there was an external force making her extra scared, thus rendering her completely and utterly useless.

“You know,” Tristian said as he dropped down to his hands and knees. “I always loved your voice. You could sing for days and I would never grow tired of it. Can you sing for me now? Sing for me you filthy cunt!”

Letting out a sinister laugh, Tristian surged forward with unnatural speed and was on top of Claire within seconds. He cackled wildly as he took the screaming girl’s head with both hands, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. Between his deep, mocking chortles, he shushed Claire, like a father putting his daughter to sleep.

“Shhh… It’s going to be alright. He’ll make everything alright,” Tristian spoke as he pinned Claire down to the bare soil floor. “Time to sing!”

Claire continued to scream as Tristian released her arms, allowing her the opportunity to try and push him off of her. She flailed at his bare chest, trying to muster the strength to free herself. Just as Claire thought she was making progress he retook her head into his hands, carefully and gently brushing her hair away from her eyes. He smiled as he drove his thumbs into her eyes, the nails of his fingers slicing into her pupil. Her screams rose in pitch as she thrashed around below the man she had once called her friend, trying desperately to free herself.

It didn’t matter how hard she tried, she was no match for Tristian. He grinned from ear to ear as he sunk his thumbs deep into Claire’s eyes, pressing up against her skull. Finally her screams had come to an end as she slipped into a catatonic state, her body locked up with terror and agony.

Upstairs Ellen and Regan were frozen in place as they heard Tristian murder their friend. They stood there powerless as he drug himself back upstairs, his hands slick with Claire’s blood and a substance they had no interest in finding out which part of the body it once was. He reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, leaving a streak of crimson across his forehead.

“Oh deary me, I went and made a mess of things downstairs. Be a doll and clean that up for me sis,” Tristian said in a mocking tone.

“She’s not going anywhere, Tristian. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Why are you doing this?!”

“TRISTIAN’S NOT HERE YOU FUCKING IDIOT,” the creature bellowed, voice oozing fury. But despite this he continued to smile at the pair, taking small steps forward. “It’s just me in here. Your sweet little boyfriend’s being raped in the Maw.”

With a roar and a snarl the man that was once Tristian flung himself forward, hitting Ellen head on and tackling her to the ground. Unlike Claire he was not gentle with her as he took hold of her head with both hands. He drew her head up a few inches before violently slamming it against the floor. Whack. Whack. Whack went Ellen’s head. With each blow the sound of her skull splitting became louder and louder before the back of her head exploded and gray matter was sprayed across the floor like a bomb had gone off.

Regan screamed and ran away from the grizzly scene and flew into the bedroom. The moment he had passed through the threshold and into the room proper he slammed the door shut behind him. While he looked for something to put in front of the door, Regan stood with his back to it, putting some weight into it. The door shuttered when Tristian hit it with something soft and wet. Whatever it was it sounded as if it was making an awful mess on the other side of the door, as was evidenced by the pool of blood that was slowly working its way under the door.

“KNOCK KNOCK SWEETHEART!” Tristian hollered at the opposite side of the door. “Why don’t you let me so I can KISS YA! I just wanna give you a big ol’ smooch before I eat your fucking face off and skull fuck the remains.”

“Why are you doing this, baby? What did we do to make you so angry?” Regan asked between loud sobs. “Please stop this baby. I just want to go home and be a family again.”

“Because you suck at taking it up the ass you fucking faggot!” Tristian shouted before something hard hit the door. “LET ME IN!”

Regan let out a choked sob as the door was hit a second time, this time with enough force to shake the door frame. With each blow Tristian would let out some explicit curse word followed by a burst of laughter. He had truly gone mad with rage.

WHAM! “LETMEIN!”

WHAM! “LETMETHEFUCKIN!”

“LETMEINLETMEINLETMEINLETMEIN!”

Nothing else could be heard from the other room save for Tristian’s rage filled screams. Thinking he was safe from the monster that wore the meat suit of his lover, Regan eased himself away from the door. Surely that simple latch will keep the monster at bay. It seemed to be working so far.

Regan was sorely mistaken.

Tristian exploded through the door, splitting it in two pieces before being roughly shoved aside. The beast howled in laughter as it tackled Regan down to the ground. He pinned the other man to the ground, eyes wide with insanity and glee, a long strand of drool dangling out of his grinning maw.

“Ehehehehahahaha. I gotcha now, don’t I? Ooooh we’re going to have so much fun together, you and I. We have such sights to show you!”

“Please, baby, stop this,” Regan begged, trying to work some reason into the situation. “You already got the others. You can just tell your lady fr-”

“HE IS NOT A WOMAN YOU STUPID CUNT!” Tristian said as he drew his head back and slammed his forehead against Regan’s. “DO NOT SPEAK ILL OF HIM! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

“Please, Tristian, stop this madness! Please, baby, I love you!”

“Oh, he loved you too. Up until you got him killed. He’s dead because of you! His soul festers in the maw, feeding the fucking maggots. You’ll go there too. When He’s done with you. The Maw will look like paradise compared to the things He has in store for you.”

With one final act of cruelty, Tristian release Regan’s wrists and instead took hold of his lover’s head, gently cradling it with both hands. He gently moved his head onto his lap, rocking back and forth as he hummed a lullaby off key.

“Shhhh… Shush little baby, don’t say a word.”

Regan was silent when Tristian turned on him. He was silent when his clothing was torn from his body and tossed aside. He was silent when his manhood was ripped away from his groin, blood squirting out in the beat of his heart. He was silent when Tristian started taking fist fulls of flesh and slowly tearing chunks away only to be discarded like his clothing.

Tristian took his time turning Regan into a pile of battered and torn flesh. By the time he was done Regan was reduced to a pile of organs, his flesh and muscle scattered about the blood soaked room. But it wasn’t just Tristian that was doing this. Every single one of the dead friends had crawled back to life, groaning as they joined their killer in dismembering their friend. From the shadows a pair of glowing silver eyes watched with glee, relishing in the pain that radiated from the cabin. This was all part of the plan. Soon these shambling corpses be joined by others, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

In the blood soaked cabin a smile crept across Tristian’s features as he looked upon his handiwork.

“He will feast on us all!”

[genedara]

* Why have you disturbed our sleep; awakened us from our ancient slumber? You will die! Like the others before you; one by one we will take you. *

(( The following content contains subject material that may be triggering or disturbing to some. Themes included are horrific imagery and graphic violence. Read at your own discretion. ))

When Tristian came to he could not recognize his surroundings. His head hurt something fierce, a throbbing bump on the left side of his head. Half of his head was covered in dried blood, most of which was stuck in his hair. He could feel himself being dragged along the ground, face down. Whoever was dragging him held onto Tristian by the collar of his shirt, pushing the fabric to its limits. A pained groan escaped him when his head bounced off a small rock in the path. His kidnapper came to a halt, dropping their prey. Tristan tried rolling over, only to find that he had been bound together with a thick, hemp rope, itchy and uncomfortable.

“Aaah! Ow, fuck!” Tristian cried out when his kidnapper grabbed a fist full of hair and slammed his head against the ground. After three blows to his already damaged forehead, Tristian was sent back into the waiting arms of unconsciousness.

——

“WAKE UP!” A woman screamed in Tristian’s air before backhanding him, her hand leaving a red mark on his cheek.

“Wuh, huh?” The young human mumbled, his head bobbing around as he struggled to work through the intense pain of nearly having your skull cracked open. Words failed him, his mouth moving slowly and letting out a series of long, pained moans.

“Shut the fuck up,” the woman yelled, slapping Tristian a second time, the blow landing on the same spot as the last backhand.

The woman reached out and grabbed Tristian by his hair, pulling hard on his long brown bangs. He let out a pained yelp as her hand brushed against the massive welt on his forehead. It felt as if his head were going to split into two, his brain pulsing against his skull, each beat sending an icy lance of pain across his whole body. He struggled to open his eyes, eyelids flickering open and shut. His surroundings were a blur and all he could make out was how poorly lit the room was. It was also considerably colder and damp, indicating they were possibly in a basement of some kind. The smell of copper and earth saturated the air with the lingering scent of burnt hair.

Eventually sight returned to Tristian, allowing him to finally make out the woman’s face. She was one of the Quel’dorei he had grown to love, looking to be in the middle of her lifespan. Platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a lazy ponytail, her bangs tucked behind her long, pointed ears. The elf was conventionally pretty with light brown freckles peppering the area around her nose. A pair of dull white eyes glared back at Tristian as he studied the face of the woman. He couldn’t fathom someone so beautiful having such a wicked streak to them. Weren’t these elves supposed to be one of the good guys?

“Wh-what do you want with me,” Tristian managed to get out, a stress induced stutter slowing his speech.

The woman said nothing and instead reached up with her free hand, grabbing Tristian by the chin. She roughly turned his head from side to side and then up and down, inspecting his face and neck. His chin was released and the elf’s hand dipped down to the collar of his shirt. With little to no effort she tore the fabric in two, the sound of cloth tearing sounding like a gunshot in the silent cellar. Tristian’s breathing quickened, feel like a pig being inspected by the butcher to determine his worth. Is that what this was? Was she going to eat him? Did people even do that?

“You will do,” the elf finally replied, her voice monotone, sounding bored with the situation and giving zero answers to the man’s questions.

“What do you mean?” Tristian asked, his voice shaking, teeth clattering together as a chill ran down his spine.

The woman offered no reply.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!” Tristian shouted, straining against the ropes that bound him. “Let me go this instant! HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!”

Tristian could feel his heart pounding against his sternum, feeling his pulse with every fiber of his being. He was absolutely terrified and assumed that tonight was the night he died. He had hoped, had prayed, for a long and healthy life. Was this what the gods had in store for him? Was this really the end for him?

“If you scream again I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to you,” came the woman’s reply, her voice soft yet commanding. There was an edge to her voice, giving Tristian the sense that she could end his life at any point.

There definitely was something wrong about the woman. The more Tristian studied her studying him the more he felt that this woman was not an ordinary person. Sure, evil exists in the world, but this woman felt truly evil, as if her very soul was tainted, cursed to forever live outside of society as an outcast, hunting others purely for sport.

The woman released Tristian’s chin, letting his head droop down. A strand of spit slid out of his mouth, slowly oozing downward, swaying back and forth like a pendulum. She then sat up, having been sitting in a wooden chair in front of Tristian and dragged it off to the side. Both hands gripped the bound man’s shirt and roughly grabbed him forward and tossed him down to the dirt floor. He could smell the soil, momentarily going back in time to when he had helped his father on the farm in Westfall. Gods, those were the good days. Tristian silently begged the gods for their mercy, hoping for an easy way out of the situation he had been forced into.

Tristian snapped back to reality, rolled over to his back and sat up, kneeling before his captor. He looked up at the beautiful elf, gazing into her milky white eyes. She circled around him a few times before she started drawing shapes in the dirt. The elf drew a large circle around Tristian with his body sitting in the center of a pentagram. Once the circle was complete she would then start drawing ancient runes, each one giving off a dull purple glow when she finished writing it out. When the entire spell was laid out around the bound man the air grew chilly, each breath sending a plum of steam as the temperature dropped below freezing.

Outside the ruined cabin the sky gradually drew darker and darker with each passing second before cloaking the immediate area in total darkness. A roll of thunder sounded off in the distance as a purple bolt of lightning struck out against the ground with enough force to send chunks of dirt into the air. Another bolt flashed, quickly followed by another, quickly drawing closer and closer to the cabin.

Back inside the cellar, the elf walked a slow circle around Tristian, eyes locked onto him. A smile slowly spread across her face and continued to grow unnaturally wide, splitting her face in two. Her lips pulled back to reveal a set of sharp fangs lining her mouth, slick with saliva. Her eyes the shifted to an inky darkness, something twisted writing around in the woman’s white irises. She reached out with one hand as she walked laps around the man, grinning at him with pure malice.

“Khandar,” the woman droned, her voice low and menacing. “Estrada.”

“Khandos thrus indactu,” she continued to say, her voice dropping an octave with each word, which seemed to echo in the confined space. Tristian cast his gaze around the room, doing his best not to hyperventilate. The shadows writhed in place, looking like an army of tentacles sprouting up from the earth. “Nosfrandus.”

Tristian could feel a pressure building up inside his chest, his heart pounding against his rib cage. The more she spoke the more painful the pressure became, going from a tingly sensation to feeling as if his nerves were on fire. Every fiber of his being was wrapped in a blanket of agony, his brain unable to process it all at once. He wasn’t aware of it, but Tristian had started to scream about halfway through her incantation. His eyes were squeezed shut, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead, eventually running down his dirty face.

“Khandar dematos,” the woman shouted, her voice impossibly low and distorted. She flung her arms into the air, as if she were praising the gods. The walls of the cellar had begun to shake, the ceiling letting loose clumps of decades old dust. “Khandar!”

On the last word it sounded as if the world had violently and suddenly exploded. A bolt of purple lightning blasted through the wooden ceiling, striking the bound man as if drawn to him. His high pitched wails of pain only grew louder when his flesh caught fire. Black flames licked his skin before it started to melt away, oozing down to a flesh colored puddle at the man’s feet. As the fire consumed him, he trashed around, sending droplets of his own body in every direction.

The woman looked on the scene, her twisted grin splitting her once beautiful face in half. She watched with joy as he struggled against the ropes, his flesh pooling at his dirt caked feet. The elf drew in a lungful of air, taking in Tristian’s suffering as if it were a pleasant fragrance. His pain fed her and gave her power, the woman drinking deep of the agony that radiated from the burning sacrifice. She continued to watch as his intestines spilled out of his stomach after a large hole had formed. His organs hit the ground with a wet slap, the rest of them following suit. It was then that his screaming stopped and his body went still.

Tristian was dead.

The woman just smiled at the mess, gazing at her work with reverence.

“En'othk uulg'shuul. Mh'za uulwi skshgn kar. Log'loth w'oq Ongg!”

As the woman spoke, small black legs poked out of the soil, wriggling around as their owners righted themselves. An army of insectoids worked their way out of the ground and marched over to the puddle of human flesh. They would then begin to feast on it, noisily lapping up the liquified flesh with glee. It had been years since their last meal and the woman was happy to provide.

“Kulaq w'ajj, hwa-ksh brraglac,” the woman said before casually strolling up a flight of stairs, humming a morbid tune as she moved.

It was time for the work to continue for He must feed.

[genedara]

*“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”*

(( The following content contains subject material that may be triggering or disturbing to some. Themes included are horrific imagery and graphic violence. Read at your own discretion. ))

Night had descended upon the quiet Elwynn Forest, sending the thicket of trees into darkness. An owl hooted out in the distance, the lights of Stormwind visible between the gaps of trees that peppered the landscape. Off in the distance Goldshire was rife with activity, drunken adventurers hooting and hollering all while trying to land themselves into the bed of their preferred gender. It was a night just like any other, dull and predictable. But for Genedara, tonight was a living nightmare.

A human woman with silvery hued hair that hung past her shoulders had approached Genedara. The woman’s face was normal enough, pretty with the wrinkles that come with a long life. Her eyes were as white as snow, crooked teeth stained yellow. Despite her appearance being somewhat normal, Genedara didn’t put much thought into it. She had been gathering supplies for her spells when the stranger approached her. Something felt wrong about her. Genedara couldn’t quite put her finger on it but something about this woman scared her in a way she hadn’t felt since she defended her homeland from the Scourge.

“Can I help you?” inquired the high elf. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

The woman raised her right hand slightly, pointing at the elf and said, “He craves new flesh. Submit and He will give you great power. Refuse and He will kill you.”

“I’m sorry,” Genedara replied, her left hand hovering over a dandelion. “Who are you talking about? There’s no one else here but us. I’ll ask again, are you okay?”

“Submit,” was all the woman said before she lurched forward with both hands held out in front of her.

A yelp escaped the high elf as she fell backward in an attempt to escape the stranger’s grasp and scooted away as quickly as possible. The woman’s hand lashed out, her fingers grazing against Genedara’s platinum blonde hair. She closed her fist and jerked it back toward herself, ripping out a few strands of hair. In an effort to get to her feet so she could flee the elf crawled off to the side like a crab before springing upward into a standing position. Without a word she took off running, leaving behind her satchel packed to the brim with flowers and herbs. She could always circle back around to pick it up after the spooky woman had lost her trail. Did the stranger decide to chase after her? Genedara peered back and almost immediately her body went cold and a chill ran up her spine. The woman was indeed chasing after her, but she could hardly be called human anymore. The woman’s head had split in half, fleshy tentacles lashing out at the cool night air, slick with some unknown substance. Her body had undergone a similar change, several large black talons jutting forth from her gut, a gaping mouth oozing a thick red substance. The woman’s legs now bent backwards, large feet digging into the ground with each step, her arms hanging limp at her sides, a set of spindly appendages ending in curved blades made of glistening bone. The woman, or rather what was left of her surged forward at great speeds, letting loose a bone chilling roar that echoed in the dark.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” was all Genedara managed to say as she sprinted through the woods of Elwynn Forest.

With speed not typically found in humans, the abomination quickly closed the gap between it and it’s intended target. The beast did not seem to tire or grow bored with the chase, roaring as it shot through the trees. In no time the thing chasing Genedara was on top of her, having pounced from behind. It pinned the elf down, the creature’s blades made of bone pressing against the soft flesh of the elf’s stomach. She lay there, thrashing around in an attempt to free herself from the beast. But no matter how hard she kicked or punched the thing wouldn’t budge, the woman’s dead eyes staring down at the high elf.

“P-please…” Genedara pleaded with the monster. “Please, let me live. I can help you. I’m really good with magic. Just, please, let me go. I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

“Only He can tell us what we can and cannot do,” the abomination replied. “Open your mind to Him.”

With Genedara pinned to the ground the woman brought her disfigured body close to the elf’s, the creature’s body as cold as the night air. From the depths of her torn neck a large black slug wriggled its way free, moist flesh glistening in the light of the moon. Genedara watched in growing horror as the slug dropped down, landing on her breast. The woman’s warped body went limp and collapsed onto the fallen elf, effectively trapping her and sealing her fate.

The slug casually inched it’s way up Genedara’s chest, staining her dress with a sticky clear substance. Unable to defend herself, she could do nothing but watch as the slug drew closer and closer to her mouth. It was clear that whatever the creature had in store for her involved the elf consuming the slug. Her eyes went wide when she felt the sticky slime on her neck, the slug scooting forward like a caterpillar, inching closer and closer to her waiting maw. She clamped her mouth shut, biting down and clenching her jaw. In no way shape or form was she going to willingly let that thing into her body. She’d rather die than submit to this overgrown slug.

An invisible hand took hold of Genedara’s jaw and started aggressively pulling down in an attempt to forcibly open her mouth. It didn’t matter how much strength she put into keep her jaw shut the force pulling was significantly stronger than she was. A scream escaped her mouth as it was forced open, hoping to draw attention to herself. There was bound to be someone nearby, but the woods around the elf were silent, not a single living thing making a sound. Genedara continued to scream as the slug eased itself into her mouth, muffling her cries.

Rather than continue her screaming, Genedara fell silent. Her body went slack and her eyes unfocused as a sickeningly sweet liquid made its way down her throat, the slug following behind it. She felt as the creature slid down her throat and into her stomach, writhing around as it got accustomed to its new host. A pain of which she had never experienced shot through every fiber of her being, feeling as if she had been set on fire. Unable to move or make a sound, Genedara lay there, tears rolling down her cheeks.

A series of images exploded into the depths of the elf’s mind, assaulting her with eons of violence and murder. Whenever the creature surfaced death followed in its wake. She watched as the white haired woman was discovered as a small child, her hands stained with the blood of her parents. The being spoke to her, convincing the child to let it live within her in exchange for eternal life. In a flash sixty years went by, the little girl now an old woman clinging to life by unnatural means. As she moved through the world she murdered, tortured and fought her way through history, surprisingly skirting under the watchful eye of the law.

“She was weak,” a calm male whispered in Genedara’s mind. “But you are much stronger. Serve me and you will know power beyond your comprehension.”

“I will not submit,” Genedara gasped now that the slug was deep within her body.

“I did not ask.”

Genedara’s body suddenly tensed up, her back arching and thrusting her chest into the air. Her arms flailed around in the dirt, legs bent at the knee. It felt as if someone was working a red hot poker into her brain, the most intense headache she had ever experienced. The world around her went dark and her body lost all tension, going limp. It was at that moment that Genedara ceased to be. Whatever was left behind would be a pale imitation of the woman she used to be. Everything about who she had been was twisted into an elaborate lie.

Genedara’s eyes lost all focus and eventually darkness was all she could see. Memories of her family were pushed aside and forgotten, making room for the knowledge provided by the slug monster. The power that coursed through her veins was old and heavily saturated by the void energy. Visions of the Black Empire coursed through her mind, one of the earliest memories provided by her new consciousness. It promises great power and it did not lie. Genedara now knew things she could have never imagined. She saw different worlds with different races and people, none of which she recognized.

In just a few minutes the creature took over and commanded obedience, pushing aside the host’s consciousness and making way for its replacement. An elaborate lie would be crafted and a new personality put into place. In time it would be impossible to separate the woman from the monster. Unless by some miracle, Genedara would die alone, her body the puppet for a being beyond comprehension.

And so the creature retreated back to Genedara’s home, hiding away as it gathered strength, formulating a plan to ensure a long a fruitful life.

Finally, after so many years of lying in wait, He was ready to feast again.