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dionysia-does-stories · 6 months

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The Tale of The Rabbit of Caerbannog

Cringetober 2023, Day 17: "It was a dark and stormy night. . ."

On AO3

Rating T - 592 words - Monty Python and The Holy Grail

Summary: The rabbits of the forest of Caerbannog tell the tale of the night when one of their own became the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog.

Story:

“It was a dark and stormy night.” they whispered, many voices becoming one voice. Their breath was a wind that battered its way through the trunks of the old Caerbannog forest.

“The dark was complete black. There were no stars. There was no light. Nothing existed in the woods. We ourselves stopped existing in that dark.

“The storm was unexpected. A shattering of meteorological forces that was everywhere and nowhere. We dragged ourselves through thick air. The atmosphere was laden with water and electricity. Our fur clung to our trembling bodies. Our long sensitive ears were deafened by the greatness of the thunder.

“We were rabbits before that dark and stormy night. Now we are something else. A rabbit can fight, but doesn’t. A rabbit runs. A rabbit hides in the burrow. We were born with sharp teeth and sharp claws. But they weren’t meant to taste blood. They were to dig and chew and build the burrow. We were architects of safety before we were remade as machines of war.

“We have tasted blood.

“It was a dark and stormy knight who stumbled through the forest then. He was huge (as all humans are huge). Slow (as all humans are slow). His clanking metal skin would be warning enough any other night. But the thunder had been so loud and the storm so sudden.

“Many of us were out on the forest floor foraging for food. Among them was a new mother from our burrow, a lovely lady fair of feature. The storm frightened her (as it did all of us). She tried to calm her heart and find her way home. She was blinded by the darkness (we all were). She was deafened by the thunder (we all were). She was unable to smell anything but the drowning rain as it poured into her.

“The knight came upon us. He was a lumbering useless fool. But he was hungry. He grabbed at any of us within his reach. His meaty arms flailed. His grotesquely bent fingers grabbed.

“We ran. We’re rabbits. We ran. We are the fastest creatures on the forest floor. Faster than wolves. Faster than human witches. Faster than human gods. But the storm. The knight kept pace with us in the storm.

“He followed us through the shrubbery. He followed us to the burrow. The lady fair was the last of us to make the dive. He saw her bright white fur, even in the darkness. We thought we escaped him into the safety of the burrow. Until, the knight began to dig.

“He dug up the burrow. He dug up the children. He laughed. His laughter was like the thunder. He grabbed the lady fair’s kit, crushing it in his terrible human hands.

“As her kit drew its final breath, something changed within the lady fair. She raised her nose to the heavens. Her ears alert and haunches raised to fight. She called to any god listening to give her the power to kill any knight who crossed her path.

“Her call was answered.

“A violent new strength took up residence in her body. The lady fair’s teeth and claws had a new purpose. She devoured the knight. Blood mixing with the downpour of the storm.

“She made a new burrow, a giant burrow. Where we are all eternally safe. A burrow big enough that knights could walk right in. And her God would lead the knights to her. Wolves to the slaughter. Entertainment to satiate her bloodlust.

“But there is never enough knight’s blood spilled to appease the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog.”

#Monty Python and the holy grail fanfiction #monty pyton and the holy grail #monty python #fanfiction #killer rabbit #medieval killer rabbits #the rabbit of Caerbannog #cringetober 2023 #day 17 #cw: animal death #cw: animal cruelty #Will I ever be able to write anything as peculairly messed up as this again #this whole thing started as a homonym joke

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aplaceinthedark · 3 months

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CONSUMED by the DARK

(a TOWERING MAN story)

Word Count: 2.9k+

CW: supernatural themes, religious sacrifice, body horror, animal cruelty, being buried alive

Pain. Fear. That’s all Noah could feel right now.

He clutched at his side, trying to staunch the blood flowing from the stab wound. Whatever cultists that stabbed him had thankfully not stabbed him deep enough. They had been aiming for the heart, but he twisted just in time.

“Noooo-ahhh!”

He whimpered at the sound of his name being called. He couldn't tell what direction it had come from. Whatever freaks they had out here were searching for him, and they were using his loved ones' voices. Some of them he hadn’t heard in years. Those he could care less about, but when he heard his best friends’ voice, crying out in pain for him, he wanted to curl up and wait until they found him, finishing him off for good.

That's when Noah stumbled face first into another tree, adding more blood to his body. He had entered the woods with a flashlight, but it was gone now. He was stumbling blindly, with no moon to guide him. Why did the gods decide to coincide the summer solstice with the new moon? Whose great idea was that?

Where was the end? How far into the woods was he?

“Noooo-AAAHH!”

God, they had to be close. He could barely run anymore. His fingers were ice cold despite the warm blood slipping between them. His foot caught a loose root, and he fell face down in the dirt. His cry of pain surely would alert them to his location.

Indeed, a low glow lit up the back of his eyelids as he lifted his head. Through bleary eyes, he could make out the dull red glow. Except it wasn’t a cultist standing before him.

Its pelt was black; blacker than the darkness surrounding the two. Noah was certain he would’ve been able to track it in complete darkness. The dull red glow, though, lit up the hollow, and he could see that it came from its antlers. He couldn’t count how many points the stag had, mainly because they seemed to twist and turn in on themselves. Like oak branches, he thought.

Noah could only imagine what he looked like: covered in blood and dirt, leaves and sticks caught in his shoulder- length hair as well as his clothes. Despite the circumstances, he felt like he wasn’t worthy to be caught in the thing's presence. The stag dug at the ground with one of its massive hooves. Noah was tall, but this beast had to be more than twice his size.

Before Noah could contemplate any further, it spoke, not aloud, but in his mind:

CHILD OF THE VALLEY, WHY HAVE YOU COME TO MY COURT?

Noah flinched at the harsh tone. It was guttural, like a scream that came from the gut rather than the throat. He sputtered, unsure of how he even managed to get to that spot. He told the stag so, through chattering teeth as the coldness of the hollow finally caught up to him.

The stag tilted its head, the glow of its antlers moving as if filled with liquid. Like blood. The movement almost seemed… human-like. It unsettled Noah even more.

I THINK YOU KNOW WHERE YOU TRULY ARE, NOAH SEBASTIAN DAVIS. YOUR KIND HAVE TOLD THE TALES OF THE WATCHER OF THE WOODS FOR A LONG, LONG TIME.

Noah flinched again at those words that sounded like a parent coldly scolding their child. To be honest, until recently, he never had believed in those tales of darkness roaming the Shenandoah Valley. Then, when what happened with the Folio kid happened, he started to believe it more and more.

“Please… please help me. I-I’ll do anything,” he pleaded, feeling a fresh spurt of blood despite his numb fingers. It wouldn’t be long now.

THERE WILL BE A PRICE.

“I… I don’t care. I- I’ll do any… thing.” He didn’t want to die here, alone in the woods.

GIVE YOURSELF TO ME. BECOME THE INSTRUMENT OF MY WILL, AND I WILL FREE YOU FROM THE PAIN OF YOUR HUMANITY.

Noah could barely speak at that point, so he merely nodded. The Watcher made a sound, and the world went black. With one last steady breath, Noah spoke his final words:

“I think I've had enough… enough now.”

And that was how the young human, Noah Davis, died and became the Towering Man.

The search parties were few. That didn’t surprise him. Ever since he and Nicholas were made to be the boys who cried wolf, the people in town were quick to make excuses for his disappearance.

"He was a troubled boy.”

“He probably just ran away."

“Kids these days. He’s probably lying face down in a drain in the city right now.”

If he could feel anger, it would be at the woman who had claimed to love him. The woman who had turned out to be just like the rest of them. She was the reason for the state that he was in. She was the reason why he had died and sold his soul. After that, she only fueled the rumors that he had run away. Even with Nicholas trying his best to combat the rumors, it was only him against a town of five thousand.

Nicholas tried his best to keep the search parties going, but when you live in a town that values old superstitions over the life of a 21-year-old, it’s hard to do anything. Noah wanted to tell his friend that it was okay, to ease Nicholas’ pain and anxiety, but he was forced to watch as Nicholas continued to put up missing flyers and stay up late at night to wait for Noah to come home.

But after a few months, even Nicholas seemed to give up. His family convinced him to move to Richmond, and for a while Noah would only see Nicholas every once and while, when he would visit Granny. And Noah was forced to do nothing but watch from the treeline.

During the day, he would root himself near Granny Ruffilo’s home. He tried to resist the Watcher’s pull, even at night when he was demanded to collect the offerings left by the cult: mostly blood and wine. Except on the nights when the moon was darkest, then he couldn’t resist the voice inside his head.

Noah wanted to scream out whenever he would see Nicholas through one of the windows; scream at him that he was right there, outside of that window, just past the treeline. Except Nicholas wouldn’t be able to hear him, even if he could use his voice.

And Noah’s heart - or whatever counted as his heart now - turned black.

He watched Nicholas move on. Seasons passed, and so did Noah’s feelings. By the time June came back around, he had pretty much given himself over to the Watcher’s will. He accepted the fact that his best friend would no longer be saving him.

The night before the summer solstice, Noah was summoned to the Watcher’s Grove. Some would joke that it could be a courtroom, except the Black Stag was too proud of itself to share its power. All it needed was its minions, which it was surrounded with now.

THE TIME HAS COME, CHILD OF THE VALLEY. YOUR GOD DEMANDS ONE LAST THING OF YOU.

Noah thought he was being rewarded, being given his human body back. Like some kind of horrific Cinderella, he just needed to explain to Nicholas everything that had happened; that he had made a deal with the devil that he couldn’t take back. The Watcher knew that the first thing Noah would do was run to Nicholas, and he planned accordingly.

Noah should’ve realized his mistake. When he called for Nicholas, he should’ve realized it when he felt his bones shift in response. He should’ve realized it when he felt his body stretch and grown when Nicholas came out into the woods. It wasn’t until Nicholas’ face twisted in fear did Noah realize the Watcher’s plan.

Nicholas was to be the Watcher’s next Vessel, and Noah was to bring him to the Watcher.

Except the Watcher had underestimated Nicholas. See, it turned out Nicholas was a part of an old bloodline of Practitioners. Usually, it passed down onto the women, skipping a generation if need be. For some reason, instead of picking his sister, the practice chose him. It did so not long before this incident, so Nicholas was still learning the extent of what he could and could not do.

So when Noah reached out for him with a thorny hand, Nicholas accidentally blew him apart. But Noah had died in the Shenandoah Valley, where dead things don’t stay dead.

Nicholas crafted a body made of sticks, leaves and mud, and bound Noah to it. It nearly killed both of them. It wasn’t the best; Nicholas had just learned how to manage his practice, after all. Noah had a body again, and this one wasn’t under the control of the Watcher’s will.

And he would use it to his advantage.

“I’m gonna fuck up that deer god.”

Their plan wasn’t perfect at all. Nicholas was going to pretend to be captured, the perfect Vessel to be sacrificed. That way, hopefully they would have the element of surprise.

Which of course, wasn’t how it happened. Leave it to him to underestimate how good the Watcher was at reading minds.

YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND AGAINST A GOD?

the Watcher of the Woods asked. The cultists stood around them in a circle, not getting too close, but ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.

YOU, A SCARED LITTLE BOY AND HIS LITTLE WITCH, AGAINST SOMETHING OLDER THAN THE DIRT YOU STAND UPON? OLDER THAN THE STICKS IN YOUR BODIES THAT YOU CALL BONES?

Was Noah scared? Absolutely, even though he couldn’t really feel it. But for once, he didn’t let his fear show, like he did when he faced the Watcher the first time, a year and a day ago in this same grove.

This time he was ready.

With Nicholas helping him, his concentration divided between bolding off the Cultists with a warding barrier and aiding Noah, Noah found he was evenly matched with the Black Stag. He had learned the deity's tricks over the past year, and could counteract them easily. Noah acted as an almost perfect counterbalance to the darkness: whenever the Watcher would throw decayed dirt edged with frost that was colder than the universe, Noah would ruin it with life and nature and warmth.

The Watcher of the Woods even tried to take Nicholas out of the equation with a malediction, but Noah wouldn't let it. With a roar that could shake mountains, Noah charged forward and grabbed onto the Stag's twisted antlers. Under his grip, they were bitterly cold, almost turning his fingers instantly blue. The stag tried to rear back to shake off Noah, but he only tightened his grip until his knuckles cracked.

“After all that you've put me through? After all the hell you created for these hollow souls? After all the lives you've torn apart for your sick enjoyment? You think for one second, I'll let you destroy one more? You think that this makes you a god?”

Noah's eyes flared green, lighting up the darkness in his eyes, as with a loud growl, he spoke:

IF THERE'S A GOD, IT'S FUCKING ME!

And with a twist, Noah tore off the crown of bloody bones with a mighty crack. At first, he thought the sound had come from his body, but when the red in his vision faded, he saw the head of the Black Stay on the ground, separated from its body.

There were numerous cries of disbelief around him. Some might have tried to attack him, but with one look, they stopped. Noah held up the antlers that were still in his hands.

DON'T EVER COME BACK, YOU HEAR ME? IF I FIND OUT YOU EVEN TRY TO START THIS SHIT AGAIN, I WILL COME AFTER ALL OF YOU! YOUR FAMILIES TOO, IF I HAVE TO!

And they scattered like roaches.

Noah and Nicholas stood in the grove, alone and quiet. The corpse of the Black Stag had decayed fast; even the bones and antlers had rotted away. Noah shook his hands until the decay was gone. All that was left was the skin of his palms had been burned black.

“Now what?" Nicholas said, breaking the silence.

“I don't know. I don't feel any–”

There was a sudden shifting beneath Noah. He looked down in surprise to see that the ground had swallowed his feet. He was sinking.

And with one last raspy chuckle, he heard the Black Stag mutter in his mind:

THERE MUST ALWAYS BE SOMETHING TO WATCH OVER THE WOODS.

Nicholas tried to pull him free, but when Noah was up to his waist in the ground, he pushed Nicholas away. “But I just found you!” Nicholas cried.

“Don't worry, I'll be back. Just listen for your name.”

And the earth swallowed Noah up, and darkness claimed him once again.

He felt the suffocating weight of the ground pressing on him from all sides, the darkness so absolute he didn't know which way was up or down. A weird feeling spread through him, like a panic attack but… absent. Like he should be having one, but it wouldn't come.

That's when he realized his eyes were closed, but when he opened them, he was faced with something much worse.

Something fell into his eyes, and when he opened his mouth to scream, it fell in there too. The taste gave him his answer to where he was.

Dirt. He was buried underground.

Still, he didn't feel panic. He struggled against the dirt, trying to claw his way free, but his limbs were numb and weak from disuse. There was no way he was going to get out of this without some help.

Naturally, he called for the person who would help him without question.

NICHOLAS.

He felt ridiculous. How was Nicholas gonna hear him? How did he even get buried in the first place?

There was no time for questions or memories. He had to dig himself out somehow.

He willed his arms to move, his legs to kick. Either he was so weak, or buried so deep, he couldn't move a muscle. He tried to remember what he was taught about being buried alive. Don't use a lighter; breathe short little gasps to prolong the air. That was if he was buried in a box, though, and he didn't need to worry about breathing. He hadn't needed to for a long time.

He didn’t know how long he was there, buried deep beneath, barely moving despite his mind shouting at his limbs to just move already! He had almost given up when he felt the earth shift somewhere near his head. Were those voices?

It sounded like great amounts of dirt were being thrown around, like when a dog digs for a bone. It stopped for a moment, a new voice joining whoever was above. Then the digging continued, but with the rhythm of what might be a shovel.

When the weight got lighter, Noah used the last of his strength to move his arm. Without the weight of the dirt pressing down on him, his hand burst up from the ground. There was a shout, and suddenly two pairs of hands grabbed onto his arm and pulled him free.

“I came as soon as I heard your call. In my head,” Nicholas said.

The other two, Joakim and Nick, had heard it too. If there were others like them, they didn’t show. But Noah didn’t care. These were his friends now.

This was the Circle of Omens and Thorns.

And that’s how Noah Sebastian became the new Watcher of the Woods, the King of the Shenandoah Valley.

Something was wrong with the woods, and it was driving Noah crazy.

As he peers over the top of the mountains from his perch on Stony Man Mountain, he feels the Appalachian Spring air sweep through the trees, barely ruffling his long hair. He mindlessly twirls a braid around his finger, thumb rolling a bead around as an anxious tic. A chill runs down his spine, and he knows it’s not because of the wind. The Spring season up here is a lot like a joke; he’s seen wildflowers poking through big heaps of snow before. That wasn’t stopping him from shedding his shirt, like now.

He likes to come up here, despite it being a popular stop on a hiking trail. At night, no one will bother him; not even Folio. He knows that when Noah goes up Stony Man, he doesn’t want to be disturbed.

Except he’s still disturbed, just in a different way.

He lays back on the ground and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he curls his fingers through the dirt and grass. He grounds himself to expand his consciousness through the Valley.

He can feel the way the trees seem to curl in on themselves, like an old man wrapping his coat tighter around him as he trudged on through the bustling air. His skin crawls as he feels roots wind their way through the soil, touching something so foul it fills his throat with black mud and he gags, but can’t move. The black mud chokes him, whispering in a familiar voice that promises nothing but venom and sweet lies.

He wrenches from his reverie, coughing and spitting despite nothing is in his mouth other than cold air and saliva.

Something has returned to the Valley. Something dark, and something… black.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #bad omens au #noah sebastian fanfiction #paranormal au #horror au #series: lost in the labyrinth #fic: the grove of secrets #cw: supernatural themes #cw: religious sacrifice #cw: animal cruelty #cw: body horror #cw: buried alive

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maniculum · 4 months

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Bestiaryposting -- Fekthrud

As a reminder, all previous entries in this series can be found at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .

Also apparently this one happens to fall on the 25th, so Merry Christmas if that's your thing I guess? Also if I'm late posting the results from last week you can probably assume I'm busy with family stuff. Or maybe everything is still on time, idk, I'm writing this post in October.

India alone produces the bird called the Fekthrud, green in colour, with a deep-red neck and a large tongue, broader than those of other birds, with which it utters distinct words; so that if you did not see it, you would think it was a man talking. Characteristically, it greets you by saying in Latin or Greek: ‘Ave' or ‘Kere!' — ‘Hail!' It will learn other words if you teach it. The Fekthrud's beak is of such hardness that if it falls from a height onto a rock, it takes the impact on its mouth, using it as a base of uncommon toughness. Its skull is so thick, that if ever you have to admonish it with blows to learn — for it tries hard to speak like men — you should beat it with an iron rod. For when it is young, up to two years of age, it learns what it is told very quickly and keeps it firmly in mind; when it is a little older, it is forgetful and is difficult to teach.

Remember to tag posts with #Fekthrud so folks can find them.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #Fekthrud #cw: animal cruelty #trying to be responsible about those CWs

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crimsonwing · 3 months

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I barely got that dog off the ground, and grabbed it by the neck. That's how you subdue them... but I don't know if that's what I had in mind.

But those other kids didn't stay put. One of them managed to hit my head with a rock, and it made me fall. --- Apenas levanté al perro del piso, lo agarré del cuello. Así es como se supone que uno somete a un animal... pero no se si esa era mi intención. Por desgracia, esos otros niños no iban a quedarse quietos. Una buena pedrada en la cabeza y caí al suelo.

#crimson wing #mermay #mermaids call #webcomic #cw: injury #cw: blood #cw: violence #cw bullying #cw: dog attack #cw: animal cruelty

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musicfromtheceiling · 5 months

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day 12: stab

This is quite different from what i'm usually drawing but i really like it!

#cw #cw: animal death #cw: animal cruelty #cw: blood #watercolor #fountain pen #ink #traditional art

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psudopod · 7 months

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Enjoying bake-off season 14 so far! 😅

#great british bake off #gbbo 2023 #gbbo spoilers #watchmen #rorschach #cw: gore #cw: animal cruelty

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wowwzaaxei · 8 months

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cw/tw: animal abuse and child abuse

so basically I live in a household where hitting and spanking is a normal punishment that happens regularly.

well, so my brother picked up on how our parents hit us and the dog whenever we screw up, so he was attempting to hit our dog today and I stopped him. He then proceeded to scream, cry, and run to our mother saying I wouldn’t let him hit the dog with a belt even though he “wasn’t listening.”

my mother yelled at him and told him he wasn’t allowed to do that, to which he responded saying he’s seen dad do it before, so he was going to do it as well to punish our dog, and my mother said that dad only did that because he was an adult, and that my young brother couldn’t because he was younger and indeed, not an adult.

stop normalizing abuse, this is a double standard and it’s fucking sick.

#Cw: animal abuse #cw: animal cruelty #tw: animal abuse #tw: animal cruelty #tw: child abuse #cw: child abuse #Wowza rant

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return-of-the-unicorns · 9 months

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Of Cats and Scales

@sascha-the-tremere

It was a quiet and somewhat nice neighbourhood. The small cottage in question looked like it should belong to the sort of old grandma who was beloved by all the neighborhood. Flowers fill the garden and everything is covered in catmint. Finn was never stealthy. That was something the Salubri seemed incapable of. Currently the metheuslah was in lupine form, laying on the congregated plastic roof. A larged red furred wolf with three eyes sitting on a little old lady's greenhouse was not the most common sight. But this was L.A., and therefore maybe not as uninteresting as some people might think.

And Finn was also about as good at lying as there is a very distinct and rhythmic thumping sound as those striking violet eyes fixed on Sascha. The drumming thump of something heavy and solid hitting plastic. “You ready?” With a fluid movement the wolf leaps from the roof, shifting to human form and landing next to Sacha. It was Finn alright, but looking decidedly masculine. He grins and winks. “Got this working.” Holding out his arm and showing off a gold and serpentine bracer engraved with ogahm script. “Allows my body to match how my mind currently is, and it was eaiser to for me to create an artifact than seek out and learn a new discipline Plus. I don't think Fleshcrafting is for me. And it would require conscious effort. This just means I'm always comfortable.” He pauses. “So the vampire's either an angel faced young man or a saintly looking old granny. The cats aren't clear as both are scary but put out food. And cats go in and don't come out, except one. That's how I know about the... You know.”

#ic #cw: animal cruelty #of cats and scales #vtm #in person #thread

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beardedmrbean · 8 months

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Oh man this is a flashback, this was Morocco this happened in.

#cw: animal cruelty #cw: animal abuse

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coffeeincluded · 7 months

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Just started act 3 in Baldur’s Gate 3 and holy crap I just got bombarded with some chilling side quests one after the next.

The whole thing with the circus and the clown aside (which, what the fuck is up with that circus YOU HAVE REDCAPS WANDERING AROUND), you have:

All the refugees piled into a slum and being harassed and worse

Scratch was abused by his previous owner along with the other two dogs still at the courier

Uma demanding that Astarion help save the Gur children that he was forced to steal for Cazador (and I just know I’m gonna find a room full of abused vampire spawn children)

And a conspiracy to PLANT EXPLOSIVES IN TOYS MEANT FOR REFUGEE CHILDREN (which, something similar has actually happened in real life; the Soviet Union did something similar when they were in Afghanistan in the 1980s)

All of that in the span of one long rest.

Just, damn. That is chilling. And also fantastic. And I kinda want to write something about that, about my Tav’s (Soren, a wood half elf bard) growing horror and disgust and rage; by the end of my playtime Soren was using nothing but intimidation and violence to get information when he only ever used persuasion and deception before.

#baldurs gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #tav #astarion #cw: violence against children #cw: animal cruelty

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aplaceinthedark · 4 months

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chapter eight: DIE YOUNG than DIE ALONE

Summary: Down in the Shenandoah Valley, there lay a court consisting of the Grim, the Drowned, the Witch and the Watcher.

CW: supernatural themes, mention of death, mentions of religious sacrifice, body horror, graphic violence, religious trauma, drowning, animal cruelty, angst

Every chapter will have a different cw section. This is Bad Omens rpf, so obviously I don't know all the little nuances of the members or their family members.

A/N: Some things are color-coded. If any of you are colorblind lemme know.

I gave Noah a look, the small seed of fear crushed the second he said that line in my head. "That's the dumbest fucking thing I've heard."

As Folio howled a laugh, Nick turned to me. "What did he–"

"Shut up," Noah scowled.

With the introductions out of the way, Nick dug into a backpack and started handing me food. "Breakfast," was all he said when I gave him a quizzical look. I was grateful for the thermos of hot coffee though.

"When did you make all this?" I asked.

"When you were knocked out. I guess I owe you some groceries," he said.

"How about some more explanations, and I'll call it even?" Even though using my food was less than enough for what he did to take care of me.

"Deal." He smiled, catching me a little off guard with how it scrunched up his whole face. It was endearing and… cute. It made my insides flutter and I felt my cheeks heat up.

Was I imagining things?

Thankfully, we all sat down so I could eat, because my feet were dying. “So what do you want to know?” Folio asked.

My mind went through all the possible things I could ask. Instead, all I said was, “I guess… start at the beginning. How did you all get involved in this… mess?”

“Well, it all started with a cult,” Folio said.

“A cult?” I blurted out.

“Should we start with the cult?” Jolly asked.

“It makes the most sense.” Folio shrugged.

“Then we would have to explain the first Watcher of the Woods,” Jolly said.

“Just… I don’t care what you start with,” I sighed. The four all shared a look, but it was Noah who sighed.

“They called themselves the Children of the Revered Father,” he said. “They consisted of a lot of the citizens of New Hope, and a few people from nearby. They made it sound like they were a Christian church, but they worshiped something far darker.

“The first Watcher was also called the Black Stag, one of many epithets. Once a year, the Black Stag required a Hollowed Vessel, or what was really a sacrifice. The Children were not picky about who they would sacrifice, though they said it was due to ‘divine means’ Of picking out who would be a vessel. Folio here was the first to be sacrificed in these parts of the woods.” Folio growled at the mention of his name, and that’s when I saw his teeth. When he snarled, his lips curled up, and I could see that his teeth formed long, jagged points. Like fangs.

“Jolly was drowned at one point between me and Folio dying,” Noah said.

“So how did you guys come into contact with the cult?” I asked Jolly and Folio.

“We were members, in a sense,” Jolly said.

“In the loosest of terms,” Folio interjected when he saw how shocked I looked. “We were barely considered to be called that.”

“I thought that’s what I was about to become,” Jolly said. “They said to become a member, I had to be baptized. Really, they just held me down until I drowned.”

“I was shipped out to what my family thought was a reformation camp for ‘misguided youths.’ Then I became a ‘runaway’ after I was killed,” Folio said.

“Nick and I were out in the woods with friends, sneaking out to smoke weed and drink beer, when we saw Folio getting gutted,” Noah said. “And then when we went to the police, they dismissed us and told everyone that we made it all up.”

“They were a part of the cult, too,” Nick said, leaning towards me. He then pulled a cigarette out and lit it.

“So we were just expected to believe that everything was just fine out in the woods, told to stay out. while people were just being killed,” Noah said, nodding towards Jolly. “And I wasn’t going to sit down and let it happen.”

“And that’s when you decided to just… Go out into the woods? For answers?” I asked.

Noah’s eyes flashed. “Yes, but not like how the article painted me,” he snarled. “I wasn’t some obsessed conspiracy theorist. I wasn’t crazy like my ex set me up as.”

“Did you… did you get your answers?” I asked, bringing my knees up to my chest.

Noah paused, staring into my face. I kept my gaze steady, not looking away. If he was looking for something in my head, he didn’t show it if he found it. He slowly nodded.

“I found them, alright, but in the form of a knife to my stomach. They wanted to sacrifice me, but I managed to get away. That’s when the Black Stag found me.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. What is it?”

“It has a lot of names; The Watcher of the Woods, That Which Came From The Mountain, The Black Stag of the Below…” Jolly trailed off. “His real name can’t be spoken, so we just called him what we could.”

“The Black Stag was the reason why no one was allowed out after dark,” Nick said. “If you were out in the woods after dark, The Watcher would snatch you and eat you. And if he wasn’t fed regularly, he would come looking.”

“So the offerings…” I trailed off.

“The offerings used to be for the Black Stag,” Nick said. “He wanted human sacrifices. Noah here just happens to be easy to please.”

“Beer. Pizza. Tacos. But your apples are fine, I guess.” Noah shrugged. I was so close to slapping him into the river.

Instead, I turned to Nick and quietly asked, “Granny said that she left offerings. Is she—?” I didn’t want to voice the part where she said that Nick was supposed to secede her.

“She wasn’t a member. The Children were a perversion of our practice. We worshiped the King in Green, the benevolent version of the Watcher. The Children worshiped his darker face, The Black Stag.” Nick crossed his arms over his chest.

”So what happened to the original Watcher? This ‘Black Stag’?” I asked.

“I killed him,” said Noah.

My jaw dropped. “Y…You killed him?” I asked. Noah nodded. “How?!”

Noah mimed grabbing onto something. “Grabbed him by the horns and just—“ He mimed twisting. I flinched as if I could hear the bones break.

"There's a bit more to it than that," Nick said, rolling his eyes.

"What happened to the cult?" I asked.

"Gone. Once their god was dead, they moved to other towns. Those were the smart ones,” Jolly said.

“The ones that stayed… well, they didn't last long," Folio smirked, baring his fangs.

"What does that mean?"

"We killed them," Noah said bluntly. "A few got scared and ran off when they saw us, but the really stubborn ones tried to do stupid stuff, like restart the cult or come after me."

"And you just… killed them?" I asked.

Noah gave me a look, the answer was unspoken. “You can call us monsters. They did. So we acted the part.”

“Not gonna lie, it felt good killing the people who killed me,” Folio said, shrugging.

“And if we didn’t do something, more people would’ve died. Other kids would’ve,” Noah said. “So this is our job now. Call us haints, monsters, whatever—“

“I don’t think you’re monsters,” I whispered. Noah heard it and shut up.

I meant it. Something in my gut was telling me that they weren’t telling me everything like I asked for; that there was definitely more to the story. How did they become what they were now? If Noah killed the original Watcher, how is he the Watcher now?

On one hand, I felt like I was owed an explanation for everything. I had been practically dragged unwillingly into their circle of weirdness, so I should know the whole truth. But on the other hand, they had told me so much already in just one day. If I was going to stay, I would have the time to learn.

If I stayed.

I couldn’t go back to Newport, where everything used to be familiar and safe, but now tainted. Too many bad memories. I came here for a fresh start, and I guess I was getting it. I also couldn’t afford to move again, let alone back to Newport.

And… I didn't want to leave. Despite all this and maybe almost dying, I didn't want to run away. I wanted to stay.

This place felt like home.

"So that's why I think he's the hardest boss in all the Dark Souls games," Nick told Noah.

We were heading back to my house, Noah tagging along to "make sure we got back safe and sound" as he put it. I had been silent since we left, leaving the two men to fill the void. Once or twice I would catch Nick glancing at me, but we would both look away quickly.

WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND, LITTLE RABBIT?

I winced at the sudden intrusion. Don't call me that. And get out of my head.

ANSWER THE QUESTION.

I bristled at the authoritative tone his voice took. You're not the boss of me, and you don't scare me.

LITTLE RABBIT, YOU SHOULD BE SCARED OF ME. YOU'RE NOT THINKING ABOUT RUNNING OFF, ARE YOU?

I glared up at Noah, who had been talking to Nick this whole time. Why do you care? You've done nothing but be mean to me.

Nick faced forward, and Noah slid his eyes to meet mine.

I CARE BECAUSE NICK CARES. YOU'RE THE ONLY FRIEND HE HAS THAT ISN'T BOUND TO THE WOODS. YOU LEAVE, HE ONCE AGAIN HAS NOTHING.

I'm not leaving. So you can breathe easy now.

WOULD IF I COULD.

Smartass.

NO SHIT.

He sighed physically.

BUT IF YOU’RE REALLY GONNA STAY, AND STAY WITH NICK… THEN I GUESS YOU AND I COULD BE FRIENDS, TOO.

Soon we crossed from the woods and onto my lawn. I had shed Nick's jacket soon after we left the hollow as soon as August returned in full force. "I'll see you again tonight?" Nick asked Noah.

"Same time as always," Noah replied. He then turned towards me. "You're always welcome to join, if we didn't scare you away."

"I think I've had enough fun for one day," I said. Noah shrugged.

Noah shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm sure knocking your skull against a—" He stopped when he glanced over at my house.

Nick and I looked in the same direction at the same time. "What? What is it?" I asked as Nick stepped onto my porch. I tried to follow, but Noah grabbed my arm, holding me back. That's when I saw the bright orange paper stuck between my screen door and the doorway. "What is that?"

Nick pulled it out, silently read the front for about a few minutes too long, and then looked up at Noah. He then held it up to us.

"’The Veridiction of the Revered Father’.”

Tysm for reading! Next chapter coming soon!

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