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Triangle

by Zeffon

/
1.
Death Wall 17:47
i. The Death Wall Throughout my life, I have had a certain amount of ecstasy, things that make me enjoy my otherwise monotonous existence, things that make me happy to be alive. However, there is a certain threshold to be had in these things, as I am no longer as ecstatic as I was, nor am I as energetic, often collapsing on the old chair at my house that I inherited from other ancestors. My lineage goes much farther than that - people often say I have Unkardian features, such as sunken cheeks and tiny eyes. They would be right for all I knew. I remember the day I encountered Cyane, the man that would eventually tell me these things. He was a man of short stature, saying he owed it to his ancestor Nathaniel Deylane, whom he described as being no higher than an average child at age sixty. I believed it; Cyane seemed just as short. Of course, I was not happy about the so-called discovery of my ancient Unkardian bloodline. The Unkardians had barely survived the Reve's Genocide all those years ago. Somehow, like roaches, they had lived and were spreading throughout the populace of Ramalest (May she live forever). Although I still hold some of these allegations to be true, I (with no intention of EVER betraying the monarchy) hold in question the things that I've been taught over the years about the filthy Unkardian magic users. Thus, my euphoria has vanished. On a trip with Cyane to Castle Northane, I came across an excavation. Various dolls (ones made of porcelain and clay) had been pulled out of the wreckage of a burnt estate. The owner was apparently a drunkard who had perished in the flame and embers, unable to get up or get help. We saw no significance in the remains and continued onward, while workers demolished what was left of something once-glorious and lavishly expensive. We continued following the road until we came across a deep wood. The woods themselves seemed to bear no ill will, but I couldn't help but figure something was wrong. Cyane was undeterred and continued forward quicker than I had anticipated. For someone who was quite short, he could run many times faster than I could. I dashed after him, but lost sight of his figure within an instant. It was here that I realized that I was lost. Very lost. The day rapidly became night, and soon it was pitch black. I pulled out a match and lit it on a nearby rock. The feeble orange light flickered dimly across the closely knit trees and quickly burned out. Feeling around in my raincoat made me realize that I was down to approximately two more matches. I dared not light them, for when I did, it would be truly and permanently dark. After traveling for days with the two sources of light in my pocket, I became parched, hungry, and increasingly tired. Soon, it became difficult to move. When I reached what I felt was the center of this enormous wood, I ran into something sticky. Finally, I felt obligated to shed some light on to the area, and lit my second match. What I saw was beyond description. Human bodies, stuck to the enormous tree trucks with melted flesh, were scattered amongst the area. Some of them seemed to be undergoing some sort of metamorphosis, their skin gleaming in the yellow glow of my light. Just as quickly as I could see, my vision went dark again when my match was blown out by a strange gust of wind. A clattering sound, augmented by the sound of small voices filled the air as trees began to snap and crack under the weight of what was swiftly sweeping through the dark. Eventually, I woke up in a room in Castle Northane. My throat was very sore, and it felt as though I had been screaming for an incredibly long time. The terror I felt had vanished, but I have felt the same type of fear when I have visited Cyane's empty house following his mysterious disappearance. From here, I can only hypothesize how I managed to escape that wood. No one really knew.

about

Demo 13.

i. The Death Wall

Throughout my life, I have had a certain amount of ecstasy, things that make me enjoy my otherwise monotonous existence, things that make me happy to be alive. However, there is a certain threshold to be had in these things, as I am no longer as ecstatic as I was, nor am I as energetic, often collapsing on the old chair at my house that I inherited from other ancestors. My lineage goes much farther than that - people often say I have Unkardian features, such as sunken cheeks and tiny eyes. They would be right for all I knew. I remember the day I encountered Cyane, the man that would eventually tell me these things. He was a man of short stature, saying he owed it to his ancestor Nathaniel Deylane, whom he described as being no higher than an average child at age sixty. I believed it; Cyane seemed just as short.

Of course, I was not happy about the so-called discovery of my ancient Unkardian bloodline. The Unkardians had barely survived the Reve's Genocide all those years ago. Somehow, like roaches, they had lived and were spreading throughout the populace of Ramalest (May she live forever). Although I still hold some of these allegations to be true, I (with no intention of EVER betraying the monarchy) hold in question the things that I've been taught over the years about the filthy Unkardian magic users. Thus, my euphoria has vanished.

On a trip with Cyane to Castle Northane, I came across an excavation. Various dolls (ones made of porcelain and clay) had been pulled out of the wreckage of a burnt estate. The owner was apparently a drunkard who had perished in the flame and embers, unable to get up or get help. We saw no significance in the remains and continued onward, while workers demolished what was left of something once-glorious and lavishly expensive. We continued following the road until we came across a deep wood. The woods themselves seemed to bear no ill will, but I couldn't help but figure something was wrong. Cyane was undeterred and continued forward quicker than I had anticipated. For someone who was quite short, he could run many times faster than I could. I dashed after him, but lost sight of his figure within an instant. It was here that I realized that I was lost. Very lost.

The day rapidly became night, and soon it was pitch black. I pulled out a match and lit it on a nearby rock. The feeble orange light flickered dimly across the closely knit trees and quickly burned out. Feeling around in my raincoat made me realize that I was down to approximately two more matches. I dared not light them, for when I did, it would be truly and permanently dark. After traveling for days with the two sources of light in my pocket, I became parched, hungry, and increasingly tired. Soon, it became difficult to move. When I reached what I felt was the center of this enormous wood, I ran into something sticky. Finally, I felt obligated to shed some light on to the area, and lit my second match.

What I saw was beyond description.

Human bodies, stuck to the enormous tree trucks with melted flesh, were scattered amongst the area. Some of them seemed to be undergoing some sort of metamorphosis, their skin gleaming in the yellow glow of my light. Just as quickly as I could see, my vision went dark again when my match was blown out by a strange gust of wind. A clattering sound, augmented by the sound of small voices filled the air as trees began to snap and crack under the weight of what was swiftly sweeping through the dark.

Eventually, I woke up in a room in Castle Northane. My throat was very sore, and it felt as though I had been screaming for an incredibly long time. The terror I felt had vanished, but I have felt the same type of fear when I have visited Cyane's empty house following his mysterious disappearance. From here, I can only hypothesize how I managed to escape that wood. No one really knew.

credits

released July 11, 2014

Everything - Creighton Jenkins

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Zeffon Renton, Washington

:9:9:9...

Don't you dare even tend to catalog what lurks ominously in the dark...

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