#annyinacastle

[keijumonarkki]

Prince U'il from Blood of Destinies Rewritten by @annyinacastle

#annyinacastle #Blood of Destinies Rewritten #character profile art

[castleofkitties]

Haunted (chapter 1)

When he reaches the window, he can see the gate to the property is open. Not all that much, but enough for him to see it with the dim light of the outside. How did that happen?

Author's note: This was written for Halloween and I wanted it to be kind of increasingly creepy. I don't think I managed, but I hope you enjoy it. The story actually begins now.

———

He doesn’t know why they came, or how they entered, but a group of children — Can he call them children? They don’t look any younger than he looks. — a group of children has seemingly decided to visit him.

It’s been a while since he met outsiders, so, feeling a little awkward, he stays on the upper floor, observing them as they walk into the mansion.

There are three of them. The oldest one is leading them. It doesn’t matter if it’s because of his hair in the dark, or the certain twinkle in the oldest’s eyes he catches, but he finds him frivolous.

The other two walk behind him.

One of them is restlessly tapping his folding fan against his palm. He’s frowning, like they had dragged him along against his will. They probably had.

The last one holds onto their friend. Whenever each of their friends turns to them, they put on a pitiful expression, but they look around in curiosity when they think no one else is watching.

But he sees it all from where he’s standing on the balcony, shrouded in darkness.

***

A few hours earlier at Zuladiar High School.

When Retnüir leaves the classroom, his eye twitches. Never mind that the lazy kid Laž’ar’s sitting on that bench opposite of Retnüir’s locker, Khanuk is as well. Khanuk, who graduated from the school when Laž’ar was still in middle school.

Khanuk’s smiling as he talks with an arm on the back of the bench, half turned to Laž’ar. He doesn’t seem to care that Laž’ar’s leaning slightly away and making himself smaller.

Retnüir walks over to them and lets his textbook fall heavily on Khanuk’s hand, startling Laž’ar into jumping off the bench.

“Retnüir!” Khanuk laughs. “Why so mad? Not enough coffee?”

“How old are you even?” Retnüir sneers back.

“I was telling li’l Laž here about something — are you in?”

Retnüir sweeps his gaze from Khanuk sitting in front of him to Laž’ar now standing next to him. The previously scared kid has a twinkle of excitement in his eyes, and Retnüir gives up on these two the moment Laž’ar opens his mouth.

“Ret, it’ll be fun!”

“I don’t care how much fun it might be. Go back to class, Laž’ar.”

“Reeeeettt!” Laž’ar whines, tugging at Retnüir’s sleeve. “Please!”

Retnüir sighs and knocks Laž’ar on the forehead with a knuckle. Even if he knows it didn’t actually hurt, Laž’ar’s hand shoots to his forehead while he frowns.

“We can do it after our classes.” He turns to Khanuk. “Right?”

“Wouldn’t even try to get our Retty to miss class. Evening is the best time for it, anyway.”

“Well, you should also go to class, O Greatest Khanuk. I know you’ve got a lecture, not time hanging around us half-adults.”

Khanuk laughs. “You’re gonna love this, Retnüir!”

***

After they all finished for the day, Khanuk brings the other two teens along with him to the bus stop. They jumped on.

When arriving at the stop, Laž’ar grabs hold of the Retnüir’s sleeve as they leave the bus stop. There aren’t all that many street lights here, and one of them flickers while giving off a click and a buzz every time it goes on or off. 

It reminds him of horror flicks.

If Laž’ar didn’t think this would be too fun to pass up, he would have gone home already, because, although Retnüir only ever chides him, he could get vicious while scolding Khanuk and that was not fun.

And Retnüir’s already losing his patience with Khanuk’s antics.

“Here we are!”

Khanuk announces their arrival out of nowhere, standing between two dead streetlights. Laž’ar needs to squint because it’s so dark Khanuk half-melts into the shadows.

It takes him a moment to realise Khanuk stands in front of a gate, and behind it a large mansion. Naked branches rise above the hedge taller than a full-grown man. He assumes the leaves are scattered in an overgrown garden.

He hums softly in curiosity.

Khanuk had told him they would go somewhere spooky —  a place that locals felt might be haunted, and there had been more than one sighting. Apparently Retnüir claims not to be afraid of ghosts, and Laž’ar had timidly said he found ghosts ‘super exciting’.

Truth to be told, he doesn’t believe they existed.

This is just an old mansion. What ghosts could there be other than some rats and some stray cat? 

However, he has never been in a mansion before and definitely not an old one, so — ghosts or no ghosts — he’s going to see if he could explore a little.

Khanuk waves to Laž’ar, who lets go of Retnüir and runs up to the iron gate.

“Khanuk, are there really ghosts here? I want to see them!”

“You bet there are at least two or three!”

A tsk comes from behind Laž’ar. He turns to see Retnüir already holding his fan that he always carries with him. It’s a sign he’s enduring his lost patience. Each tap’s like the ticking of a bomb unless Retnüir finds a proper outlet for his irritation.

Laž’ar hurries over to him and pulls at his sleeve, purposely looking as pitiful as he can. “Ret, you’re not coming?” He tugs the sleeve a couple of times while pouting.

He knows it’s childish, but…

“Fine, I’m coming,” Retnüir sighs.

Mission accomplished.

Laž’ar knew this would convince Retnüir. Tried and tested on this big brother.

“Li’l Laž,” Khanuk says, “check if you can open the gate?”

Laž’ar nods enthusiastically and runs back to check out the iron gate.

“It better open. I’m not breaking and entering anywhere. Got that, Khanuk?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. No breaking and entering.”

Laž’ar taps the heavy padlock. “I don’t know lock picking.”

Khanuk turns around, then gets his phone out of his pocket, using the flash as a torch. “Look at that. I guess we’re not breaking and entering then.”

Laž’ar takes hold of the lock, feeling very disappointed.

Maybe the lock is too rusty, because the moment Laž’ar lets go…

CRASH!

…the lock drops to the sidewalk, clearly not useful in keeping them out anymore.

All three of them startle at this sound, Laž’ar actually backing up so much he can hide behind Retnüir.

Khanuk laughs at him. “Are you a cat?”

“I’m not.” Laž’ar’s voice quivers slightly.

“We can leave, if you’re afraid,” Retnüir consoles him.

Laž’ar peeks up at the other teen’s face and sees a slightly tense expression. He holds the folding fan so tight it lets out a small “crack”.

Well, then.

“Ret, you’re so mean. I’m, I’m not scared! Are you s-s-scared, Ret?”

Retnüir’s hand tightens around his fan. “I’m not. Let’s get this stupid thing over with.”

***

A loud crash wakes him up, and Çetžak sits up in his bed with a start.

With silent steps, he leaves his bedroom and walks to a window that oversees the front yard. There seems to be some people outside the property. Well, it doesn’t concern him. They can’t get inside, anyway.

Awake now, Çetžak moves over to the study to continue a game of chess against himself. He thinks of his next move for a little while.

He picks up a piece.

Knock, knock.

He startles at the sound, and drops the piece.

Branches may occasionally knock and scrape on the windows, and this he’s so very used to. It lulls him to sleep and wakes him up later in a cycle as days pass. Weeks. Months. Years.

Knock, knock, knock!

But this is different. He hasn’t had many guests lately, and he also doesn’t invite anyone, but he wouldn’t mistake this sound.

When he reaches the window, he can see the gate to the property is open. Not all that much, but enough for him to see it with the dim light of the outside.

How did that happen?

The paved path up to the building had been slightly disturbed.

There are some muffled voices, but, as the visitors are standing under the eaves below, he can’t see them. It may be difficult to see them even if there had been nothing to shield them, because this far in, the light is nothing to speak of.

A gust of wind covers up the tracks, making it seem like no one passed through, while the hinges of the door downstairs whine while the door itself creaks.

He turns away from the window and the desolate garden outside. He listens to hesitant footsteps echo while he walks to the balcony on the second floor, studying the curious outsiders below.

#i was supposed to publish this earlier but didn't and now I have a Tumblr so... #annyinacastle #blood of destinies rewritten fic #chapter 1 of 7 #modern au #kind of horror i guess? #ghost story?

[annyinacastle]

A snippet from my NaNo 2022 project

Qaibin’an watched the girl listen closely in the wind and a breath escaped him, taken away by spirits passing. He put his hand on his sash, holding it there. Amarasha still made no show of moving on from whatever noise she had heard. He removed something from his pouch, moving his horse closer to her. While he could not hide his words from any gods, surely any wicked spirits would not hear him if he spoke quieter?

Amarasha turned to look at him in time to see him hand her two stones, no bigger than the size of her thumb nail. One was the colour of sunset and the other was like water reflecting the sky. She studied them. They were both polished until smooth, with a single rune carved into each of them. She knew these kinds of stones well — they were protective talismans given to hunters by the shamans, blessed by the Earth Mother and celestials.

She picked them out of his outstretched hand.

#authors of tumblr #writers on twitter #nanowrimo #Amarasha WIP #Annyinacastle WIPs #first draft #unedited snippet #historical fantasy WIP #fantasy WIP

[stevencapobiancoworlds]

Heads up, Seven up!

Thanks for the tag @thephoenixandthecrocodile! I tag @kiraofthewind @annyinacastle @author-audrey-simmons @authorandreamariejohnson @abookbumble @evelienclarkewriter and @rosantha-tindall (although no pressure to play)

The rules are to share a snippet or a line from your recent work and then tag seven people. Anyone feel free to do this challenge if you want.

Here's one of Tsuki, the rabbit companion from Moonlight Blade, telling Luca about the new world he's in after waking up in a fantasy world hotel place.

“You’re in Arcana now!” She hopped onto the bed. “Well, not the town we’re in, I think it’s called ‘Mireforde?’ Humans call it something silly, but this whole world is Arcana, and it’s super duper magical! Dragons, magic, flying ships, magic scooters and bikes, and most importantly,” Tsuki playfully poked her cheeks, “magical guardian animals such as this cutie here!”

[castleofkitties]

Haunted (chapter 3)

Çetžak stares at the imp. “This is my home,” he eventually replies.

Çetžak watches the imp bump into the wall behind them. This startles them and they drop their illumination device. There’s a loud thud as the rectangularly shaped thing hits the floor. Its light dies.

The imp’s chest is heaving up and down in heavy breaths. They don’t pick up the device, but cling to the wall as if it would keep them afloat.

He had hoped speaking up would put them more at ease. Yet he gave them a worse scare instead.

He doesn’t like the other two but this imp… He’s curious.

“I did not mean to scare you.”

The imp forces a laugh. “I’m, I’m not scared. A little surprised. Yeah. Surprised. Just a little, though.”

Çetžak bends down and picks up the illumination device. He holds it out to the imp.

“You have my sincerest apologies for startling you.”

The imp gives the device a sceptic look, then takes it from him. They look at it and frown.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, nothing.” The imp holds up the device for Çetžak to look at. There was a visible crack down the thing. “The screen broke is all.”

“It is my fault.”

The imp chuckles. “I dropped it. I’m clumsy sometimes. Anyway,” the imp puts the illumination device away, “why are you here?”

Çetžak stares at the imp.

“This is my home,” he eventually replies.

“Your… You live here? Fuck. We didn’t know anyone actually lived here.”

“I seldom have guests over. Perhaps that is why people believe the mansion to be haunted.”

“Ah, yeah, maybe? But what about all the covered furniture?”

“I do not use them,” Çetžak explained, then motioned slightly. “I only need very few rooms, as I live here by myself.”

“By… yourself? Damn, that’s gotta be lonely.”

Çetžak pauses to think. Was it lonely? He hadn’t thought about it for a long while.

“I have become used to it.” He turned to look at a painting on the wall. “Once one spends enough time by oneself, one forgets about others.”

“That’s just tragic.”

Çetžak looked back at this imp. “Then… would you mind keeping me some company?”

***

Laž’ar follows the ‘ghost’ of the mansion. Now that he’s not scared — No, not scared. Surprised. — he’s able to take in the appearance of him. His black hair falls in waves halfway down his back and the white loose shirt and dark trousers he wears look more expensive than Laž’ar’s jeans and oversized hoodie.

And he doesn’t look remotely like a ghost.

Besides, he had picked up Laž’ar’s phone, so — although the candle he holds casts some odd shadows sometimes that makes it look like Laž’ar vaguely can see through him — he’s clearly solid.

Even if ghosts did exist, when had he ever heard of a ghost with a physical body?

Exactly never.

The ghost opens a door for Laž’ar.

“This is my study. You will have to excuse the mess. I did not expect visitors.”

“Oh, don’t mind it.”

Laž’ar steps into the study.

It has a large collection of books that all look ancient with brown spines. There’s a heavy wooden desk facing away from the view of the garden. Laž’ar can see the centre of the city not that far away, its apartment complexes reaching toward the sky in the last rays of the setting sun.

A chess game in progress is on a small table, but no chairs to sit down on. On the wall above it hangs a small selection of sabres and daggers, many of them of gorgeous designs. He can’t believe they had ever been meant to be used to cut anything.

When he turns to speak to the ghost, he sees a large portrait. It looks straight ahead, above him, into the distant city beyond the hedge.

“Wooooow!” Laž’ar looks between the ghost at the entrance of the study and the portrait next to the oak door. “How much did you spend on this? Is it painted? Did they use paints to make it look old or do you have some ancestor who looks this much alike you?”

“It is indeed me,” the ghost responds. “I did not order it, though, and do not know the specifics. It was my father’s request when I was fifteen, I believe.”

Laž’ar studies the portrait with great interest. “And how old are you now?”

The ghost’s silent for a moment.

“My last birthday was my seventeenth.”

“Oh! We’re really close in age!” Laž’ar grins. “My sixteenth birthday’s right around the corner. Right after Halloween, really.”

“I was born in summer, apparently.”

Laž’ar frowns momentarily, but doesn’t ask.

“If you have nothing going on in a few days, you can come over when I celebrate my birthday. I don’t mind. Me and some friends will just hang out, so I don’t think they’d mind. Oh…” Laž’ar smiles sheepishly, “…but perhaps you don’t want to spend time with any of us intruders?”

“You seem like pleasant company. However, I would only be available in the evening.”

“No problem! We got school too, so we can’t do anything during the day, anyway.”

The ghost nods.

“It may be somewhat belated now, but my name is Çetžak, if you do not mind me telling you. May I know yours?”

“Laž’ar. You know ‘elegance’ or ‘elegant’ or something in that ancient language. Ret — the scaredy-cat downstairs — always makes fun of me for not being elegant enough for my name.”

“I am inclined to disagree. I think you have innate charms and elegance, Laž’ar.”

Laž’ar chuckles. “Now you’re just flattering me!”

“Laž’ar.”

“Yeah?”

“I simply felt like saying it. It is quite a nice name. I hope you do not mind.”

Laž’ar huffs a laugh. “Go on, say it again.”

“Laž’ar.”

It sounded like Çetžak tasted the name. As if he tried it out, both familiar and unfamiliar with it.

What an odd guy.

***

Çetžak watches as Laž’ar looks further around the study.  They are very curious, and once they took out their device, but put it back into their bag with a frown almost right away. They touch nothing without explicitly asking for permission. He appreciates the consideration because most things in his study are indeed very old. Not everything is.

Laž’ar, for instance, isn’t old, although they’re not a thing either.

The two of them pass time like this until they hear a grandfather clock in the mansion go off, the nine chimes indicating it’s already getting late.

“Oh…”

Laž’ar looks a little disappointed.

Çetžak’s amused by how frightened they had been before, but how none of that remains now.

“Your friends surely wonder where you went.”

Laž’ar hums in agreement.

“I do not mind if you come by another day. I am always available in the evenings.”

“I suppose I can come by tomorrow then? You shouldn’t be lonely all the time.”

Çetžak smiles. “I will not be able to be lonely if you offer your company. I would not mind if the only one I meet is you for the rest of eternity.”

Laž’ar huffs in playful anger. “You shouldn’t say things like that! It would be boring if you met no one else.”

Çetžak turns to the door without responding. After opening it for Laž’ar to leave, he only says: “Take the light with you. I have more candles I can light if the need arises.”

***

“Laž’ar!”

Khanuk’s shout echoes through the mansion. Retnüir’s something between furious and frightened, not daring to leave Khanuk’s side, but also unwilling to stay near him.

“Laž—”

“So loud.”

Startled, the two of them look up. They hadn’t seen there’s a balcony shrouded in deep shadows right above the hall where they entered from.

A figure stands there now, looking down at them. Khanuk almost jumps when Retnüir grabs onto him in fright.

The figure walks closer to the railing, their features becoming clearer.

It’s only when the figure’s almost next to it, Khanuk sees it’s none other than their missing Laž’ar. 

“What are you doing there?! Come down now! What are you running off on your own for?”

Retnüir’s voice is a little shaky, but it’s impossible to say if it’s fear or anger. It doesn’t matter. Laž’ar turns to walk down the stairs.

“You’re so noisy. You disturb people shouting this way.”

A candle lights up his way, and he’s holding his phone in his other hand.

The phone that wasn’t supposed to work, suddenly lights up, and Khanuk sees a crack that goes nearly straight down the middle. When it vibrates, Laž’ar looks down at his hand and a soft “huh” leaves him.

For some reason this scares Khanuk more than anything else.

“Where… where did you get the candle from?”

“Upstairs. It’s cleaner there. The furniture isn’t covered either.”

Khanuk feels Retnüir tensing up. “Aren’t we trespassing?”

“Really, Retty? Obviously. Let’s just go home.”

“It’s fine,” Laž’ar says and blows out the candle. He lifts the cover off of a side table and places the holder down. “The owners aren’t home, anyway. I don’t think they’ll find out.”

Something sounds very off with this, but Khanuk doesn’t dwell on it. He grabs Laž’ar by the wrist and pulls him along, leaving with long strides.

#chapter 3 of 7 #blood of destinies rewritten fic #annyinacastle #modern au #kind of horror maybe? #ghost story?

[castleofkitties]

Haunted (chapter 2)

Laž’ar continues to look at his phone, body tensing, ready for either of his friends to say something.

The door opens up into a large space. Khanuk, walking in front, lights up the flash on his phone to use as a torch once more.

Laž’ar notices Retnüir wants to do the same.

While Retnüir checks his own phone, Laž’ar holds on tight onto his sleeve, looking around. He glances occasionally at the other two. Using the darkness as his cover, he opens his bag. He presses the power button on his phone. Holds it. Taps shutdown.

“Does it work?” His voice is nearly a whisper.

Retnüir humphs and stuffs his phone back into his pocket, but Laž’ar knows already. 

He barely has any battery left and, practical as he is, Retnüir keeps what battery he has left.

“Use your phone as a torch too,” Retnüir spits out.

Khanuk turns to look at them. He’s inside the hall.

Laž’ar takes out his phone, and puts his finger against the sensor, then tries to shake it to life. He frowns.

“It’s dead. Ret, it was fully charged. Do you think it’s the ghosts?”

“You just left the ticket app on the entire way.” The words sound more choked up than sharp.

Perhaps Khanuk was right. Ghosts are something his found big brother can’t handle.

“Oh… Probably?”

He feels Retnüir relax a little.

“Come on, you two.” Khanuk actually laughs. “You better stay close to me.”

Laž’ar changes from holding Retnüir’s sleeve to holding his arm, half pushing, half hiding behind him.

What’s the fun in this if he doesn’t play a little frightened?

Even though they half tip-toe, their steps echo. This fascinates Laž’ar quite a bit, and he looks around trying to see past the limited light of the one phone.

Yet, he can only see a few metres away from Khanuk. Who also shadows some light, and Retnüir and Laž’ar are mostly walking in the dark.

***

The entrance opens up to a hall and three children walk through the large open space. They have some kind of light with them, illuminating some paces of what’s in front of them.

They stop every so often to look at some things hidden beneath sheets of fabric standing to the side; a smaller sculpture, a vase, a glass case with jewellery.

Step by step, they approach the staircase.

They stop in front of it.

Çetžak continues to watch them. He’s still lurking in the shadows of the balcony. It seems they believe his mansion is haunted.

So far, he has noticed nothing indicating this is the case.

“Should we go up the stairs?” the oldest asks.

“There’s so much to check out,” the youngest responds. Their voice sounds strained, but he knows.

He knows this one’s an imp in human skin. A fae folk disguised as a human. Luring the two boys into his mansion. For what purpose, he can’t say.

Whether it’s curiosity or something else, he can’t stop looking at them, following their every move with his eyes.

“Let’s not go up the stairs,” says the one the youngest holds onto. “What if the stairs are rotten?”

The oldest places a foot on the stair, trying his weight, then kicks it.

“I don’t think they’re made of wood, Retty.”

Even Çetžak can hear there’s a teasing laugh playing in his voice.

“I’m sure there’s some wood,” the one called Retty sputters.

The youngest chuckles. “Khanuk,” they point toward their left, “let’s go over there.”

The one called Khanuk looks in the direction and shines the torch that way. Çetžak hasn’t gone there in a long while. It’s where the kitchen and servants quarters are, and he doesn’t need to go there, and had seldom gone when he was younger either.

He watches them as they leave the reception hall, only stepping out of the shadows when he no longer sees the light from their torch.

***

They find their way to the kitchen. There’s nothing of interest here, aside from some empty smaller rooms. They also find a staircase going down to the basement. Laž’ar does his best to persuade Retnüir to go down, but even Khanuk says it seems too dangerous.

He’s aware.

The problem’s that exploring an empty mansion’s only so much fun for so long. After they’ve checked out cupboards and whatnot, surely disturbing all the sleeping critters, he’s too bored to keep up with the farce.

He yawns and looks around to find something else to do. Retnüir doesn’t notice that he lets go while he’s scolding Khanuk for the fifth or sixth time about opening every little cabinet and drawer. He takes out his phone and silently sneaks away to explore on his own.

He really wanted to go upstairs when Khanuk mentioned it, but he knew he couldn’t push for it then.

Once he’s alone, however, that’s not a problem.

He doesn’t struggle to find his way back with his phone offering him light.

He stops in front of a mirror covered in cloth. Although it’s barely, he can see a reflection veiled by the protective fabric.

He pauses.

Looking around, he realises…

There’s no dust.

So someone regularly cleans the place.

For a brief moment, he considers going back to Khanuk and Retnüir to tell them that there might be someone who’ll be furious with them because the place isn’t as abandoned as it may seem.

His heart suddenly jumps. Turning around, he sees nothing. The lights of his phone and the covered mirror, together with the pretence of being scared are clearly playing tricks on his mind now.

He looks back at the mirror and there’s really only him. He closes his eyes and lets out a tense breath.

He rolls his eyes.

How easily affected he is. He knows very well ghosts aren’t real, so getting worked up about some moving light’s ridiculous when he’s the one holding the light.

Why does he need to be scared? He doesn’t. So he isn’t. Easy.

The hazy reflection looks back at him. He hears voices echo from the distance. He feels goosebumps run up his arms.

Okay, maybe he’s actually a teeny tiny bit scared.

It is dark and foreign and the mirror’s a little creepy, isn’t it? Retnüir and Khanuk’s distorted voices make it feel like it’s not just him standing there.

Well, he’ll just focus on what he wants to explore.

Yeah.

He leaves the creepy mirror, looking back at it several times, but without the bright light of his phone’s flash, he can only see the shape created by the fabric covering it. Almost like he shouldn’t have been able to see his own reflection.

He swallows and takes two steps at a time up the stairs.

As he explores the upper floor, his steps echo throughout the hall.

Or…

He stops.

The steps stop.

He walks again.

The echoes begin again.

He looks behind him.

Yeah, it’s just the echo.

He turns around.

A pair of black eyes stares at him from the shadow.

He nearly screams.

Only a moment later — before his voice leaves his lips — light catches the eyes.

It’s just a bear’s head.

A whimper still escapes him. He did scare himself half to death just now, so he can’t quite blame himself.

But hadn’t he got so worked up over some echoes, of course he wouldn’t have felt his heart in his throat.

A laugh echoes and he nearly startles himself again. He checks the time and considers if he should call Khanuk and say he wants to go back home.

Lights seem to flicker.

No.

Lights do flicker. Behind him.

There’s also the sound of soft steps.

When he listens, he realises the voices can’t be heard, but there’s definitely someone else’s breath.

Oh, great. Khanuk is playing with him now. If not Khanuk, it could be Retnüir. Don’t brothers retaliate? Laž’ar doesn’t have any brothers, but he thinks Retnüir wouldn’t leave it at something one-sided if he found out.

Laž’ar continues to look at his phone, body tensing, ready for either of his friends to say something.

They don’t.

The steps stop behind him. The breathing’s incredibly faint. Almost as if it would stop at any moment.

With his gaze lowered, he can see lights play on the floor. It doesn’t seem to be from a phone.

Laž’ar swallows his heart back into his chest. His eyes darts to the upper corner of his phone.

Strange.

Heart slamming within his ribcage, he looks up. The pair of glass eyes of a bear staring at him seems like they could become alive.

Laž’ar inhales. It quivers.

A voice he’s never heard before speaks.

“Good evening.”

Laž’ar looks over his shoulder.

Even when prepared to see someone, he takes several startled steps backward.

#chapter 2 of 7 #blood of destinies rewritten fic #annyinacastle #modern au #kind of horror I guess? #ghost story?

[castleofkitties]

Haunted (final chapter)

The youth thinks before he smiles. “I think that sometimes strange things happen, but there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Çetžak spends the rest of the evening together with Laž’ar, helping with history homework. He may not be too knowledgeable about current events, but some history comes easy.

Once Laž’ar’s finished with their school work, they look at Çetžak with much expectation. Çetžak looks back in confusion until Laž’ar pokes him with his pen.

“Try the clothes!”

“Oh.” He nods cordially. “Of course.” He stands up and gets the bags from Laž’ar’s room. In the meantime, Laž’ar moves the coffee table and places himself in one of the armchairs to watch.

Çetžak picks out a simple shirt and jeans. He’s never worn the latter and the former feels foreign as well, but at least they’re familiar in some ways.

When he comes up, he’s met with applause.

“You make that look like it’s worth millions! I bet you can pull off anything!”

Çetžak smiles sheepishly, and goes through several more pieces, getting the same positive response.

Eventually, though, Laž’ar’s visibly tired. He expected as much, but the child held on longer than he thought he would.

“I think it’s time for me to leave.”

Laž’ar hums sleepily.

Çetžak makes sure Laž’ar prepares for bed, then says he’ll leave. Laž’ar follows him to the door, dressed in his nightwear, lids heavy. He leans against the doorframe.

“Take care, hmm? I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“I will let nothing hurt me,” he responded with a slight smile.

Laž’ar unexpectedly embraces him. He freezes, not knowing how to react.

He returns it, then steps out.

Next day may arrive.

***

Early in the morning, a woman stumbles into the elevator. She’s in a dress with heels in one hand and a handbag in the other. Once out again, she tiredly approaches her apartment.

The light in the hall’s dim, and she nearly misses a young man in his late teens or early twenties standing there, near her own home.

“Good morning,” he greets her.

“Good morning. You’re up early.”

The youth smiles. “You are awake quite late.”

She smiles a little, mostly self-mockingly, and turns to the door.

The lock clicks as she’s about to put the key in. She expects for a moment that Laž’ar’s opening the door, but nothing happens. She tries it. It’s open.

“How strange…”

“Did your child forget to lock?”

“I… wouldn’t think so. You don’t think it opened by itself, do you?”

The youth thinks before he smiles. “I think that sometimes strange things happen, but there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

She stares at him, sensing something’s off with him. He looks like any other youth dressed in jeans and a loose shirt, even if it’s difficult to see him properly in the dim light.

She forces a smile, nods her goodbye and enters the apartment. She hurries to lock the door.

***

As Laž’ar opens his eyes, the lights in his room flicker to life. He gets out of bed, thinking he’ll have to ask his mother to call an electrician about the broken lights. Didn’t they flicker like this the morning before as well?

He notices there’s a mess outside of his room. He looks around and sees his mother on the couch. She’s fallen asleep sitting up, but a blanket’s at least on her shoulders.

He sighs and picks up all the things she’s left around, including the half-eaten food on the coffee table.

He puts the dishes in the dishwasher, a little curious why his mother would stay up. He’s clearly at home, so who’s she waiting for?

Making no sound, he prepares for school and throws his bag over his shoulder. He steps out of the building to find Çetžak waiting outside in the rising sun.

“Good morning! What are you doing here?”

“Happy birthday, Laž’ar.”

Çetžak looks very soft as he takes something out of his pocket. It’s not wrapped, so Laž’ar sees it’s a small box. He takes it and is amazed by how decorated it is.

“Can I open it?”

“Yes, you may open it now.”

He opens the box. Within he finds a bracelet. He picks it up and looks at it.

“What’s this?”

“A gift. Take it. Wear it.”

Laž’ar happily obliges and puts the beaded bracelet on his wrist.

“Would you like me to remain with you?”

Laž’ar laughs. “Sure! Why not?”

Çetžak raises his hand and strokes Laž’ar’s hair. “Then I will always stay by your side.” He pauses. “Should I walk you to school? As long as the sun doesn’t rise too high, I have time.”

“Okay! Let’s go!”

***

On the day before All Hallow’s Eve.

Back then, his family had been afraid of evil spirits. Most of their various treasures supposed to keep them away were useless.

Çetžak knows this well.

But there’s one item he knows was not a scam from some questionable exorcist. No. There’s a beaded necklace his mother used to carry around, even if she seldom wore it.

At the time, it had seemed like an eccentric habit to Çetžak, but now he’s thankful.

The beads aren’t discoloured, but need some care, so Çetžak takes the bracelet apart to clean each individual bead.

The string’s too old and is rotting away, so, with much care, Çetžak searches the mansion for a suitable string. The string he finds is far too short for the purpose. He can only carefully choose which beads to add, weigh it in hand and consider wrist size.

Once done, he has repurposed a treasure into a protective charm for Laž’ar. That Laž’ar’s birthday happens to be close makes things easy for him.

He doesn’t know when that is so he decides he’ll give it on All Soul’s Day.

And Çetžak doesn’t go back on his silent promise. Even if he hesitates a little, perhaps seeing Laž’ar mother before giving it away convinces him.

As Laž’ar walks to school, Çetžak is next to them. From time to time, he glances at Laž’ar’s wrists. It makes him slightly uncomfortable, yet his wish to stay by Laž’ar’s side’s too overpowering.

After all, he wants it so much it has become his reason to exist. To protect Laž’ar is his sole purpose. He’ll never rest before he knows Laž’ar lives a good life, safe and sound, with no one ever harming them.

The sun’s slowly rising and Çetžak feels the rays; a discomfort as if something rips at his body. He changes sides, walking in the shadow, while Laž’ar can walk in the light.

Laž’ar’s very good to him. There’s no question why he did this, just acceptance.

As they’re about to reach the school grounds, Çetžak stops.

Laž’ar notices and turns to him. “What’s wrong?”

“It is time to go. The sun will rise too much.”

“Oh.”

“But as we have arranged prior, I shall accompany you during your birthday celebration.”

“Please do!”

***

When Laž’ar gets out of his last class, he’s surprised to see Çetžak standing a short distance away from his classroom. The light’s no good, though, because he looks a little hazy.

Bright lights really are bad for the eyes.

He should complain to the school someday. But not on his birthday, and definitely not right after he finished his last class for the day.

He wants to go home so he can celebrate with Retnüir, Khanuk and — of course — Çetžak.

Çetžak has clearly seen him and waves to him, then points in the direction of the door further down the hall. Laž’ar nods.

Seeing this, Çetžak turns away from Laž’ar, and Laž’ar approaches his locker.

The door slams and a classmate next to Laž’ar startles.

“Someone just left through the door; what did you get so scared for?”

The classmate looks around. “But who?”

“The guy who was over there?” Laž’ar points where Çetžak had been standing.

Several classmates look in the same direction.

Apparently, they all must have been focused on leaving, because no one but Laž’ar had seen him.

Rude.

Annoyed by his classmates’ lack of basic observation skills, he hurries out, ignoring the few calling after him, asking where he’s going and saying they wanted to celebrate with him.

Çetžak stands in the shadows outside, smiling softly at him as he approaches.

They need to say nothing, and Çetžak walks him home in silence.

He doesn’t expect Çetžak to say: “I will need to go now, but I will return later.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just that the sun has yet to set. I should not be out wandering so much.”

“Oh, right! You should have gone home already, right?”

“Something in that fashion.”

“Then I won’t hold you up any longer. Come when it’s convenient, okay?”

The hand Çetžak places on his head is ice-cold, but he only strokes Laž’ar’s hair twice before he puts his hand in the coat pocket.

“I shall return before your eyes swiftly.”

***

When Laž’ar gets home, Retnüir’s already there.

They already knew this would be the case.

Retnüir got out of class earlier than Laž’ar, so he went straight to his home. Laž’ar’s mother let him in and they made a cake together while waiting for the birthday child.

Laž’ar tries to get into the kitchen after getting home, but Retnüir hurries to drag him away, while his mother goes to put the gifts they collected in there away.

Right as Retnüir’s about to let go he feels something ice cold touch his hand. His eyes instantly turn to Laž’ar’s wrist.

A beaded bracelet.

Not just that, but something that looks positively cursed.

He lets go faster than he has time to think.

“Where did you get that?!”

Laž’ar’s eyes widen slightly, his smile frozen. He raises his hand and looks at his wrist.

“It was a gift.”

“From who? Take it off!”

Laž’ar pauses. The clock in the sitting room ticks. Half a minute. A minute. Two.

It’s clear he doesn’t want to say anything or listen. Retnüir tries to take it off, but the remote on the coffee table crashes into the wall.

Retnüir retracts his hand.

“Take…” He swallows. “Laž’ar, take it off.”

“It was a gift,” Laž’ar repeats as he reaches for the remote as if it hadn’t just flown off the table by itself. “I’ll wear it.”

“I think you should take—”

A vase topples over.

Laž’ar just about catches it. “Damn. Is there a mini earthquake or something?” He puts it back in place. “I want to wear it. Çetžak gave it to me.”

“That guy’s no good. That bracelet’s clearly curs—”

Retnüir clams up when he sees the window handle move upward slowly, almost as if threatening him.

When he stays silent, the handle returns to its position.

“It’s probably not an earthquake,” he squeezes out to test the waters, “but maybe the building’s haunted?”

Laž’ar laughs. “What the hell, Ret? You really think ghosts are real? You should grow up.”

The apartment door opens, and they hear Khanuk shouting a greeting. Laž’ar hurries over there, while Retnüir doesn’t know where to go. He’s too frightened to go anywhere.

Thankfully, Khanuk joins him in the living room and he moves closer to him.

He refuses to leave his side for the rest of the evening.

He jumps when the lights flicker after Laž’ar jokes.

“Khanuk,” he whispers when they’re alone for a moment, “would you believe me if I say this place is haunted?”

Unfortunately, Khanuk has no time to answer, because Laž’ar approaches them with two glasses of soda.

“Mum said she’ll have to go soon, so we’ll have to eat the cake ourselves.”

“Why can’t we do it now?” Khanuk asks.

“Çetžak hasn’t arrived yet.”

Retnüir takes his glass, feeling annoyed. “Let’s not wait for—”

Çetžak steps into the room. “Laž’ar.”

Laž’ar turns around. “Çetžak!” He beams a smile. “When did you arrive?”

“Just now, naturally. Can your mother eat cake with you now?”

“Your timing is perfect, actually!”

Retnüir and Khanuk look at each other. Retnüir sees in Khanuk’s expression they think the same thing: no one went through that front door after Khanuk did.

They turn to see Çetžak look at them both while Laž’ar’s looking away from him. A dark smile plays at his lips as he places a pale finger in front of his blue-tinted lips.

Shhhh.

#that's it. it's done. #I hope it got a little creepy at least #Laž'ar is so cute #blood of destinies rewritten fic #annyinacastle #chapter 7 of 7 #modern au

[castleofkitties]

Haunted (chapter 6)

“When will I get used to you sneaking up on me all the time?” They laugh. “You really have a knack for giving surprises.”

Laž’ar isn’t affected by horror. He’ll jump when there are jump scares, but other than some suspense, he doesn’t feel much.

This year, the films aren’t as mild as the previous one, and he glances at Retnüir.

Sure enough, his chosen big brother has at some point got his hands on a cushion and hides behind it, jumping at any sudden noises.

It seems Retnüir’s truly scared of ghosts.

Laž’ar feels a chill and turns to look at Çetžak. He’s looking at him, the light of the TV casting shadows that make him look inhuman, especially when a red light hits, giving his otherwise black eyes a red, demonic tint while his skin somehow looks even paler than usual.

It’s captivating. More so than the films themselves.

He wants to reach up to see if this demonic view’s real.

A screech from the TV startles him.

He hears a low chuckle, and the chill of Çetžak’s arm envelops him in a reassuring manner.

“Did you get scared?”

***

Laž’ar’s eyes narrow into crescents, a smile tugging at his lips. Their expression is full of mischievous intent. It’s the most adorable thing Çetžak has seen. He wants to protect it.

“What if I say I did get scared?” Laž’ar asks softly.

Çetžak freezes, then lowers his head. Laž’ar’s body radiates heat. It’s so comfortable.

He whispers into Laž’ar’s ear: “I shall protect you from everything that scares you.”

Laž’ar hums. “And if you scare me? What would you do?”

Çetžak chokes the urge within him by responding with a question. “What would you want me to do?”

“Nothing in particular. Everyone can be frightening at times. It’s about why you scared me, not that you did.”

“Have I ever frightened you?”

Çetžak can hear Laž’ar’s smile in his reply. “Never.”

That’s good. Çetžak sits back, his arm still around Laž’ar in a protective manner. He glances toward Khanuk, who’s giving him a cautious look. He doesn’t care that much.

***

Laž’ar wakes up around six in the morning. He rubs his eyes and looks around.

Retnüir’s still hugging a cushion, a frown on his face. He’s likely having a nightmare. Khanuk looks completely knocked out, drooling on the armrest he’s leaning his head against.

He gets up.

It was a good night. He’s uncertain when he fell asleep, but he can accept it. It’s not the first time he’s fallen asleep to the genre.

Besides, it was a good sleep, despite waking up on the couch, squeezed into it together with Khanuk.

He’s the host, so after a change of clothes, he boils water to make coffee for his friends.

Khanuk’s, oddly enough, the first one to wake up from the scent of coffee. He comes into the kitchen while stretching. Laž’ar stops taking out ingredients for breakfast to greet him.

“Where’s your friend?”

“He prolly went home? He said he could only stay during the evening. Perhaps he needed to go to school.”

“Laž’ar, that friend… Something’s off about him.”

“He speaks a bit strangely, but that’s it, isn’t it?”

“His clothes didn’t seem that modern.”

“Maybe he likes the look? Besides, he didn’t wear anything that would be out of fashion.”

Khanuk fell quiet, then took some toast to put in the toaster.

Laž’ar studies him apprehensively.

Why would they be so hostile against Çetžak? He’s such a nice guy. A true gentleman, really. Nothing on this planet could change that impression, Laž’ar’s sure.

“When and how did you meet him?”

“Just a while ago. He lives…” Laž’ar hesitates, but not long enough for Khanuk to notice, “…in the area of the haunted mansion.”

“That so?”

“Yeah?”

“We only went there like a week ago. How close can you even get in this short time?”

“Khanuk, come on, man! Some friends you just click with!”

“Some friends you don’t make. There’s really something off about him.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can choose my own friends! Man, you two really ruin the fun, don’t you? First Ret and now you!”

“I’ve had my share of bad friends, Laž’ar. I know when I see someone bad, all right?”

“I hope you also see the door, because I don’t want to see you!”

The lights in the kitchen flicker, before the entire apartment’s blanketed in darkness. For a moment, Laž’ar stares at Khanuk. He’s about to ask what’s going on when lights outside go out. 

Laž’ar stares as the entire area’s shrouded in black and he can only see the lights further away within the city from the window.

“What, the power went out?” they hear Retnüir ask incredulously from the living room.

“Uh, yeah, seems like it.” Khanuk’s voice sounds a little strained.

Laž’ar laughs.

“What a coincidence! I said I didn’t want to see you, and now I can’t.”

Khanuk laughs as well, but it sounds nervous. “That’s a coincidence, all right.”

“Did you watch too many ghost stories? There’s nothing odd with a power outage. Wait a bit — I’ll get some light for you guys.”

Laž’ar touches the counter to find a cabinet where they keep candles. He puts one in a holder and lights it up. He places some tea lights on a dish and puts it on the dining table.

Candle in hand, he goes to get his phone on the coffee table in front of the TV. He leaves the candle for Retnüir in there and uses his phone to light up his path to the bedroom, where he digs out an old torchlight and some batteries.

Finally he gets another one from his mother’s room, and a lantern she kept on a shelf.

He gives Retnüir one of the torches.

“Let’s just have breakfast and head out. There’s no point in staying home if I have no lights or anything.”

Retnüir nods.

“Gotcha!” Khanuk half-shouts from the kitchen.

***

Laž’ar returns from school in the evening. They take the elevator and approach the door. They seem to be in a good mood, unlike this morning.

When Laž’ar takes out the house key, Çetžak steps out of the shadows.

“Are you home now?”

Laž’ar jumps and stares at him with wide eyes.

“Did I startle you?”

Laž’ar shakes their head, then takes a shaky breath.

“When will I get used to you sneaking up on me all the time?” They laugh. “You really have a knack for giving surprises.”

“My apologies.”

Laž’ar hurries over to him and takes his hand. “Oh, no, don’t worry about it! I think it’s cool. You’re like a ninja or assassin.”

“Not like a ghost?”

“Ah? Did what Ret and Khanuk say get to you? No, you’re not like a ghost, if that’s not what you want to be like.” A twinkle appears in Laž’ar’s eyes and he leans closer. “Would you haunt me if you were a ghost?”

“Yes.”

Of course. He wants to always be by Laž’ar’s side.

Laž’ar’s stunned, then laughs helplessly. “You really need more friends.”

No, he doesn’t.

He only needs Laž’ar by his side. He hasn’t been happy in so long, so why would he leave his happiness?

He doesn’t say this. Instead, he takes the key out of Laž’ar’s hand, feeling the warmth of their fingers like a pleasant wave. He puts the key into the lock. With a click, the door’s open, and he holds the door for Laž’ar.

“Thanks,” Laž’ar says cheerily as they enter their home.

“How was school today?”

Laž’ar puts away his bag and turns to Çetžak. “It was all right.”

He studies Çetžak for some time, then speaks again. “Would you like some new clothes? I’m too short, but we can go shopping for clothes.”

Çetžak contemplates this. It’s still sunny outside, if only a little, so he shakes his head. “Not right now. Perhaps in a little while. Do you wish to eat something first?”

“Sure! Want to eat together? I think there are still some leftovers from last night.”

Çetžak hasn’t had an appetite in many years, but seeing Laž’ar’s expression, his heart softens. He can’t help but agree.

He helps Laž’ar set the table, but when Laž’ar asks him to use the magic reheating device, he politely declines. He’s afraid he might break it, and he’s not sure what such a strange invention may cost.

So Laž’ar handles the reheating, and places a variety of foreign food on the plates.

He can’t say what it tastes like, because he takes in the pure joy radiating from Laž’ar. It warms his cold limbs and makes him want to be closer. To soak in that warmth.

Whatever Laž’ar wants, Laž’ar should get. This person should be treated like royalty, spoiled by everyone like the country’s most beloved child.

But that’s not the case, Çetžak understands.

That’s something he has to fix, he determines.

***

The sun has set by the time they’re finished and it’s not long before the stores will close, but Laž’ar doesn’t mind. He doesn’t feel like Çetžak needs other clothes. He looks good in what he wears. 

However he also can’t allow anyone to bully him.

He may have told Khanuk that Çetžak likes to wear this, but he felt it’s not that Çetžak likes it, as much as it’s the only thing he owns.

His parents seem to have a peculiar taste.

Çetžak would likely be happy with whatever Laž’ar got him, so he’d have to choose carefully. Perhaps some basics today, and then work from there, who knows?

They enter a shopping centre at the centre of the city. It’s one that stays open late and will work for the purpose. Nothing particularly fancy, nor unique, but good enough.

“Are you good with jeans?” he asks as they enter a store.

“Yes.”

“Great!”

They go through the store to get to the men’s department and Laž’ar immediately starts browsing the various designs, sometimes holding a pair of jeans up to determine if they’re good enough.

“What size are you?” he suddenly asks.

Çetžak doesn’t immediately reply. He then points at a pair. “That one.”

Laž’ar’s quiet for a moment. “How about we have you try them on?”

“We have little time, don’t we? It is the size of that one, Laž’ar. I am certain.”

Laž’ar picks the pair up and checks the size. He’s hesitant, but he still chooses to believe Çetžak somehow knew what size those jeans were. Perhaps he saw it before.

He picks a few pairs, then grabs Çetžak’s wrist. He jolts at first, but after the initial surprise has left him, Çetžak obediently follows along wherever Laž’ar brings him.

He lets Laž’ar pick what he wants, and only ever points when Laž’ar asks for a size.

Perhaps he’s afraid of germs?

Well, that’s all right.

When Çetžak opens up about it, Laž’ar might have a few therapists to suggest if he wants to treat it. It’s not a bad thing.

They’re out within an hour, Laž’ar holding several bags of clothes. Not all are for his stealthy friend.

Either way, he doesn’t make Çetžak carry anything.

And Çetžak doesn’t offer.

#chapter 6 of 7 #blood of destinies rewritten fic #annyinacastle #modern au #I hope I've upped the creepy by now #can I really call it a ghost story though?

[castleofkitties]

Haunted (chapter 5)

Laž’ar chuckles. “What are you, really, my guardian angel?”

Khanuk’s last lecture is late today. His professor — or whoever schedules these things — just had to schedule the lecture at seven in the evening. On Halloween.

But between a late lecture on Halloween and a scolding that could last just as long, he’d never choose Retnüir’s anger over boredom.

As he steps out of the classroom with forty, fifty other students, he opens up the group chat between him, li’l Laž and Retty. Despite the surrounding noise, he taps the voice message button.

“Guys, I just got out of class. I should be at Laž’s in like twenty minutes, half an hour. Could one of you order some pizza? I’m starving.”

A minute later, he receives a message back.

Retty: Go eat something first, dumbass.

Khanuk laughs and records a new voice message. “Thanks Retnüir. I knew I could count on you to feed your best friend.”

“You wish. I’m your babysitter,” is the response he listens to on the bus.

Exactly twenty-three minutes later, Khanuk meets up with an annoyed Retnüir, who’s carrying two pizzas the three of them will share.

Khanuk takes the pizzas off Retnüir’s hands. “Let’s head to Laž’ar’s. I wanna eat right now.”

“Sure. But you picked nothing too bad, right? Laž’ar’s only fifteen.”

“Don’t worry. I made sure even a seven-year-old would be able to sleep.”

Retnüir narrows his eyes dangerously.

“…or maybe not seven. But fifteen should be fine. Promise.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s not like we’ll sleep.”

Retnüir rolls his eyes. 

They reach the apartment complex where Laž’ar lives. It’s not as nice-looking as where either of them live, but they understand the circumstances. His father’s apparently married to some other woman, and Laž’ar’s mother has no contact with either him or her family.

They started this tradition of gathering to ensure Laž’ar wouldn’t be lonely, since lots of people had some kind of festivity during Halloween, while Laž’ar’s birthday was just days later. It wasn’t certain it would be celebrated.

Only last year did they make it a film marathon, though. For the two or three years before that, Retnüir refused with the argument that Laž’ar’s too young and they also couldn’t just whisk away a kid to go trick and treating with him.

They take the squeaky elevator to the floor Laž’ar lives on and then approach the door.

Khanuk opts for knocking rather than ringing the doorbell.

The door opens and Laž’ar smiles up at them both.

“Pizza!”

Khanuk laughs and is about to say something when he pauses.

Behind Laž’ar stands someone about their age, pale as death, with lips that might be a hint too purple and eyes catching no light. He’s blankly staring at Khanuk.

A chill runs down his spine when Laž’ar says: “This is Çetžak. He arrived a moment before you did. You must have seen him before getting onto the elevator, right?”

No, they had not.

***

For some reason, Khanuk turns a little pale. Laž’ar looks at Çetžak.

“Do you know each other?”

Çetžak shakes his head. “It is the first time we meet like this.”

Laž’ar looks at Khanuk in confusion.

“I’m just hungry,” Khanuk squeezes out. “And Retty bought pizza! Oh, but we only have two.”

Laž’ar smiled. “That’s okay. I have some more food, actually. Besides,” he turns to Çetžak’s handsome face, “you don’t eat pizza, do you?”

“I do not.”

“See? No problems there!”

Khanuk has an odd expression, still, but he pushes Retnüir in through the door and makes a beeline to the kitchen with him.

Laž’ar turns to Çetžak.

“What’s that about?”

Çetžak shakes his head. “I would not know.”

Laž’ar closes the distance, peering up at him with a mischievous smile.

“How could you not know something like this? You’re the reason they seem to avoid me now. Woe me, what am I supposed to do with you?”

Çetžak blinks, then places his hand on Laž’ar’s head, stroking his hair. “You can do whatever you want, Laž’ar. I would never be offended.” The softness in his voice is unmistakable. “But I would never think you would try to offend me, either.”

Laž’ar chuckles. “What are you, really, my guardian angel?”

Çetžak pauses minutely, but enough for Laž’ar to notice. The expression also stiffens for as long.

“Yes. If that is what you want me to be.”

Laž’ar senses that Çetžak left out something at the end. He doesn’t pursue it, nor ponder what it could be.

***

What Çetžak doesn’t say is perhaps more his wish, rather than Laž’ar’s. And it’s Laž’ar’s wishes that matter, not his. As long as he can be with Laž’ar he’ll do anything they want. Anything for this little creature; this beautiful thing; this living being; this wonderful imp.

But the words still linger on his tongue.

“For as long as you live, I will let no one ever harm you.”

He wishes he could say it.

He won’t.

He lets his hand slide down Laž’ar’s head. It rests momentarily at the back of his neck. A wish rises in his heart, but he stifles it.

No one could harm his little imp.

He raises his hand again, stroking Laž’ar’s head once more. Then his hand slides to Laž’ar’s back. This puts him at ease. He can feel the heartbeats and the blood flowing. As long as Laž’ar’s well, everything’s good.

“What are you doing?”

Çetžak stares blankly at the one called Retnüir, while letting his hand fall. He already misses the warmth that someone as lively as Laž’ar would have.

“Is something the matter?” he asks after a moment.

Retnüir narrows his eyes. It makes the chubby boy look like he’s squinting behind his glasses.

He’s obviously not as bright as Laž’ar, but he seems to be much more observant of certain things. He grabs Laž’ar’s arm and pulls him away from Çetžak.

“Who’re you?”

The words could have been like knives, as sharp as they are said. It’s more a threat than a question.

Çetžak isn’t threatened.

“Didn’t I say this is Çetžak?” Laž’ar asks, tilting his head, eyes filled with innocence and naivety of a child.

It’s so very charming.

“He’s another friend of mine.”

“Friend?”

“Why else would he be here?”

Retnüir glares at Çetžak. “Go away.”

Çetžak ignores him and looks back at Laž’ar, who looks up at him with arms spread in an “I don’t know what to do with him” gesture.

“Laž’ar has not told me to leave, so I shall stay.”

Retnüir takes a step forward. His jaw is tight and his fingers quiver.

He’s frightened, Çetžak realises.

The boy makes a movement to grab Çetžak by the collar.

Çetžak approves of protecting Laž’ar.

He doesn’t approve of taking Laž’ar away from him.

The lights of the sitting room flicker a little as anger rises in Çetžak.

He avoids the hand that freezes for a moment, then smoothly moves to stand next to Laž’ar.

“Ret, you’re overreacting. I can have other friends, you know?”

Retnüir stares at Çetžak, then lets go of Laž’ar.

“You need to choose your friends very, very carefully, Laž’ar. You never know who or what may latch onto you.”

Çetžak lowers his gaze.

“Now you’re being rude. Damn it, Retnüir. We were going to have fun, and now you’re trying to kick a friend out.”

Çetžak sees Retnüir’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.

“Yeah. Fine. Let’s just watch the film. But just so you know, I don’t want to sit anywhere near…”

Retnüir motions toward Çetžak. It’s offensive, but it’s not towards Laž’ar. He also knows this boy wants to protect Laž’ar. That’s fine. Çetžak has his Laž’ar, and Laž’ar isn’t unhappy.

“Come on, can’t you be a little nicer? You’re my big bro, but don’t be this overprotective. Please and thanks.”

“Whatever.”

“What’s going on?”

It’s Khanuk. He also senses something, but he is more considerate, perhaps. Or he’s uncertain what to make of Çetžak.

“Ret’s being an arse. Khanuk, do something about it. He’s trying to kick out my friend!”

“Retty, don’t be like that. Our li’l Laž is growing up. Let him make new friends. He’s not stupid and can judge people just fine.”

Retnüir doesn’t seem convinced, but only lets out an angry grunt before he approaches an armchair and sits down on it, as if he’s silently protesting this event.

Khanuk places slices of some sort of bread with toppings on it and a tray of glasses with some drinks on the low table and sits down on the couch.

“Come on, now. Are we gonna have this marathon or what?”

Laž’ar shines up. “We are!” He grabs Çetžak’s wrist and pulls him along, sitting them both down on the sofa.

Çetžak doesn’t mind this Khanuk so much, so he gives him the benefit of sitting on Laž’ar’s other side.

The hostile Retnüir refuses to look away from him, glaring at him as if he’d fade away like that.

Naturally, he can’t just fade away.

#is it scary yet? even just a little? no? #chapter 5 of 7 #annyinacastle #blood of destinies rewritten fic #modern au

[keijumonarkki]

This is what I thought of based on Kitty's canon-divergent concept.

Maybe I'll finish it, I have IDEAS for it.

#I DRAW U'IL A LOT OKAY?! #castleofkitties #annyinacastle #Blood of Destinies Rewritten #art wip

[castleofkitties]

Haunted (chapter 4)

“Did I scare you?” “You sneak up on me like that, of course I get a little surprised! Don’t just tip-toe over to say hello behind me while we’re in the dark.”

For the next few days, Laž’ar returns to the so-called haunted mansion to visit Çetžak every evening.

When he returns today, there’s light shining from a window on the second floor, and he can vaguely make out a silhouette in the window.

He can’t help but smile.

Most of the mansion isn’t in use, but a housekeeper must come a few times a week to keep the place clean. Çetžak’s parents don’t seem to really care, because Laž’ar hasn’t seen even a hint of them.

Having a busy mother who works nights, it’s not like he doesn’t get it can be hard. So, as long as he’s home before something like four in the morning, his mother would never know he wasn’t at home when he was supposed to.

Even if she found out, she wouldn’t really say anything.

He walks through the iron gate with no reservation, but, instead of the main entrance, he walks to a side door. It doesn’t have the lavishness of the main entrance. 

Çetžak showed him it’s faster to get to his living ‘quarter’, as he called it.

Sometimes Çetžak speaks a bit oddly. This occasional odd phrase, or that word Laž’ar has never heard a living person say before, but read once or twice in literary class.

But that’s all right! Laž’ar understands him, and he’s understood Çetžak’s parents seem to be pretty rich, so it might be, like, an… upper-upper class thing?

Çetžak doesn’t seem like some rich brat otherwise, so Laž’ar likes him a lot.

“Good evening.”

Laž’ar startles and looks behind him. Çetžak stands a few steps away from the door. Where did he come from?!

“Hi, hello, good evening!” Laž’ar can hear he’s a little breathless from the fright.

“Did I scare you?”

“You sneak up on me like that, of course I get a little surprised! Don’t just tip-toe over to say hello behind me while we’re in the dark.”

Çetžak smiles softly and closes the distance. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Laž’ar thinks that he should feel threatened by Çetžak looming over him like this, yet his conscious thought is that Çetžak truly is handsome.

The moonlight makes his pale skin look almost translucent and the entire person otherworldly. That’s one-of-a-kind handsomeness you don’t see every day! Laž’ar’s certain about this.

“It is almost All Soul’s Day.”

“All souls…? Oh, yes! Halloween! That’s tomorrow!”

“All Soul’s Day is two days after.”

“I see! I didn’t know that. That’s my birthday, by the way!”

“So you’re born during Allhallowtide.”

“That seems to be the case?” Laž’ar laughs. “Maybe that means I’d attract ghosts if they were real?”

“Perhaps that could be possible. I would not know. It is not part of the religion I followed.”

“Never mind that. Are you doing anything tomorrow? Ret and Khanuk are coming over for a film marathon.”

“I have no plans.”

“Why don’t you come over?”

Çetžak thinks for a moment, then nods. “If Laž’ar will not be bothered by my presence, please do not mind if I do.”

Laž’ar tsks. “Why would I invite you if I’d get bothered?”

Çetžak raises his hand. It’s cold as it brushes against Laž’ar’s cheek. He pats his head, stroking his hair in a friendly manner. “Some would be bothered even if they invite me. Especially if they invite me.”

“That’s silly!”

Çetžak retracts his hand and looks toward the gate. “How about we take a walk today?”

Laž’ar nods. His phone shouldn’t shut down at random then.

***

As the sun sinks below the horizon, Çetžak watches Laž’ar open the gate again. He glances back at the mansion.

He hasn’t left the grounds of his home for so very long. He no longer remembers why, but he had no reason to until now. He doesn’t want to confine Laž’ar to the mansion, so stepping outside makes sense. Besides, if he no longer knew why he ought to remain, why would he remain in the first place?

Laž’ar must notice his pause, because they look at him curiously.

“I made sure the lights were off,” he explained. “They are.”

“Oh! That’s good! You use candles a lot, so it could be bad if you left them.”

Çetžak smiles as he steps through the gate and enters the light of the outside. The lamps are blinding, and he raises his hand to shade his eyes.

“These are brighter than candles. Must be annoying going outside in the evening and get blinded every time.”

“I mostly stay at home in the evenings.”

Laž’ar hums. “Do you have a curfew?”

Çetžak needed a moment to think. “I do. But there is time left before then. Do you?”

Laž’ar laughs a little. “Technically, I do. But no one’s at home, so I can stay out past then.”

“Why do you live alone?”

Çetžak feels worried. Laž’ar shouldn’t be alone. He deserves people to care for them and serve them like the child of a monarch.

“I don’t. My mother works nights, so she’s not home until early mornings. Nothing stranger than that.”

“I see.”

He’s still not at ease.

The two of them go down the street, side by side. Whenever a dog or cat sees them, they bark, whine, or hiss.

This confuses Laž’ar. “I wonder what’s wrong with them.”

“Perhaps they have things to say,” he glares at a dog, which backs off with a whine, “but no one to understand them.”

Laž’ar looks at Çetžak. “Do you have something to say?”

He can’t bear it when Laž’ar looks so genuinely concerned. “I have many things to say, but few are important.”

“Everything you want to say is important. Even if it isn’t to anyone else, it is to me.”

There’s a mischievous look in Laž’ar’s eyes, and he speaks in a flippant manner, but Çetžak can only see the corners of Laž’ar’s mouth moving up.

He averts his eyes, tacitly accepting Laž’ar’s words.

***

Not too far from the mansion, there’s a park. Because Çetžak told Laž’ar to pick their destination, this is where they go.

He thought of something else first, but the dogs barking changed his mind. If they had to deal with animals like that, finding a more secluded location is better.

The light of the park’s dim and spooky, without many lamp posts. He thought Çetžak would enjoy this since he kept the lights at the mansion dim. Sometimes it’s like the candles are exhausted and wish for a holiday.

So perhaps Çetžak prefers somewhere without the city street lights.

Çetžak looks around. “Is this park new?”

Laž’ar laughs. “If you consider twenty, thirty years new?”

“So not really, then?”

“No.” Laž’ar’s confused. “Haven’t you been here before?”

“I have not explored the area around the mansion. I can get everything I need there.”

“You should get out more.”

Çetžak looks at Laž’ar with a soft — almost fond — expression. “I will go anywhere you bring me.”

This tickles Laž’ar’s mischievous heart. He needs to tease him.

As he smiles, his eyes turn crescent, his impishness on full display.

“What if I bring you to hell?”

“I would gladly go with you, nonetheless.”

Laž’ar hadn’t expected this response, and he’s stunned for a moment.

He asks tentatively: “What about heaven?”

Çetžak pauses, visibly troubled. “If heaven does not let me in, then I will still follow you, even if it’s forcefully.”

Laž’ar feels there’s something off, but he can’t say what part doesn’t feel strange to hear, so he can’t tell what’s wrong.

Perhaps it’s nothing.

They fall into silence after this, mindlessly walking. It’s decorated by the people living nearby. There are a few pumpkins here, some skulls there. Spiders and webs hang off leafless branches, and someone had hung a skeleton up in one. It almost looks like it hung itself.

Laž’ar is startled when he sees this. The skeleton wears clothes, so at first glance it doesn’t look like another decoration. But when looking closer at it, and daring to touch it, it’s really just plastic.

It’s then he realises Çetžak’s looking at it intensely. Not with fear but something else.

Whatever it is, it doesn’t concern Laž’ar.

They walk for a little over an hour, and they exit at the other end of the park.

Laž’ar sees a vending machine with a flickering light. It sells drinks and snacks.

“Wait here!”

He goes over to it, and after thinking for a while, he buys a couple of drinks. Bottles in hand, he returns to Çetžak, who studies him as if he’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

Perhaps he’d been too cooped up, and right now someone friendly who doesn’t think his house is haunted is the most fascinating — what does Laž’ar know?

He motions toward a bench. “How about we go sit there for a while?”

“It is cold. Sitting may not be suitable.”

Laž’ar considers this. “There’s a bridge over the pond. Wanna go there then?”

“If you wish to go there, then I will gladly follow.”

Laž’ar shakes his head with a silent laugh, then walks back to the small bridge together with Çetžak.

He holds up the bottles while leaning against the railing.

“Which one would you want?”

Çetžak studies them both, then points. “This one.”

Laž’ar hands the pumpkin tea flavoured drink to him, but Çetžak doesn’t take it. After an awkward moment, Laž’ar places it on the railing next to Çetžak. He now holds a blood-red raspberry-strawberry drink.

He opens it and takes a taste.

Not bad.

He drinks a third of it right away.

Strangely enough, he felt incredibly thirsty since they left the mansion. Maybe he didn’t drink enough while at home?

“So what do you usually do?”

“Read. Play chess with myself.”

“Oh, so that chess game’s yours?”

Çetžak nods. “I rarely have an opponent, so I have grown accustomed to playing by myself. Some of the games take months, because I wait between each move.”

“Teach me sometime. I won’t be great, but it should be better than playing by yourself, right?”

Çetžak smiles again. Moonlight hits him, illuminating him in a way that makes it look like he might disperse into smoke.

That’s a ridiculous thought.

“If you desire to indulge me in such a way, then I can only humbly accept you as my student.”

“This student humbly requests my teacher not to be too harsh on me. I’m not a strategist.”

“I would never be harsh on you, Laž’ar.” 

Laž’ar empties the bottle and drops it into the bin near the bridge.

“I like spending time with you, you know—” 

He turns back to Çetžak who still stands on the bridge. Perhaps it’s a bit foggy and perhaps Laž’ar’s tired, because Çetžak looks hazy to him.

He approaches him as he speaks. “It’s getting a little late. I should go home.”

Çetžak nods. “That sounds good. I will walk you to where we need to part.”

Laž’ar notices Çetžak hasn’t touched the drink. No matter. He bought it without considering what Çetžak might like. He takes the bottle, receiving an apologetic smile from Çetžak in return.

“All right.” Laž’ar smiles. “Let’s go.”

***

They’re not far from the mansion, but the route back is a little longer. Çetžak follows Laž’ar anywhere he goes — until they stop.

“My bus stop’s over there,” they point forward, "the mansion’s that way.” They point to the right now.

Çetžak nods.

“So we’ll have to split here, but we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

He doesn’t want to leave Laž’ar. Not now. Not anytime.

Why should he go back? What’s there to see, when Laž’ar gives him so much more, even during brief moments?

Çetžak nods once more. “Of course.”

Laž’ar smiles brightly. “And on my birthday!”

Çetžak nods yet again. “Naturally.”

“Great! I’ll see you then. Bye!”

Çetžak watches Laž’ar as they wave to him, then turn. They hurry away, not turning again.

Çetžak doesn’t look away once.

He doesn’t want Laž’ar to leave.

Çetžak doesn’t want to leave Laž’ar.

He doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t.

#blood of destinies rewritten fic #annyinacastle #chapter 4 of 7 #it' kind of horror but also kind of fluffy? idk #modern au #cw: illusion of suicide #cw: halloween decoration