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ardent-musings · 3 years

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The Girl Who Vanished (Part 1)

Chapter 8: “Take Them, Blondie”

Getting thrown into a wall by a teacher might've been the most beneficial beating Ana had ever received, because the twins never bothered her once. She was surprised; she figured they would have gone harder on her since her guard was down. But anytime the twins had ever given her a speck of attention, all they did was give her a cheeky wink and point to their wrists, signifying that she was on borrowed time. She'd take what she was given.

With the weight lifted off her shoulder she was able to focus on things that she had been neglecting. She had been spending more time with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses and even had seen Professor Snape about a few of the spells she read about in the book she borrowed. Of course Alex and Calista weren't going to know about the latter; they would have given her a hard time about being so invested in the book. Snape wasn't the most cheery person to talk about, but even Ana had to admit that the man knew what he was doing when it came to defense against the dark arts.

But one of the biggest events that Ana was able to focus on was the Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match that Lucian had ben hounding her for days on. The last game Ravenclaw played resulted in the loss of one of their players, the boy that Ana say in the hospital. She got released far before the injured boy did, and from what she could see of his damage, he wasn't going to be leaving the infirmary anytime soon. Because of that, the stand in for their keeper was rumored to be pretty terrible on the broom.

"I've seen this kid before!" Lucian hollered in excitement as he scrapped at the bacon and eggs on his plate. "First year, he could hardly stay on his broom and now he's the alternate? We've got this game in the bag. And when we win, we'll be in the finals!"

The boy took a big gulp of his pumpkin juice looking awfully proud of himself. But none of the girls were convinced. It wasn't like him to be bragging about winning a match, especially before the match even begun.

"Lucian, you need to cool it or else your big head is going to cost you the game," Alex laughed at him. Calista and Ana exchanged similar looks, meanwhile Lucian glared at his sister.

"Look, I'm just excited," he justified, his excitement dwindling to zero so he began to take it out on his food. His knife was nearly cracking the plate in half as he was attacking his breakfast with a sudden burst of irritation. "You guys would be too if you knew you were about to win a game."

Alex and Calista huffed loudly at the boy, which didn't make his expression falter. If anything he looked more upset. Ana remained quiet though; whatever high Lucian was on was bound to end one way or another.

"Just, don't try to jinx it," Calista brought to his attention while she took a spoonful of her extremely sugary cereal. "We want you to be excited, but not conceited. Sure, the Ravenclaw player may not be good, but you can't guarantee a win."

Lucian's downtrodden look only got worse as he got up from his seat, leaving his meal half eaten. With a sad glance at his friends, he left them alone without another word, stomping loudly out the Great Hall. Ana, Alex, and Calista all looked at each other guiltily. Ana hated seeing the usually upbeat and cheery boy look so dejected.

"Guys, I'm gonna go talk to him," Alex said as she grabbed her waffle in her bare hands and began to stand from her seat. "I don't want him going into the game upset."

Both the girls agreed, knowing that Alex would probably be the best person to talk him down from his high horse. That or she'd make it worse by instigating him even more. Either option seemed possible at the moment. All Ana knew was that she hated seeing Lucian so upset; what they said was honest but she understood why he took it to heart. "Want us to come with you?"

The girl shook her head, "No. I can handle this. Make sure you save me a seat though!"

And with that, the younger Bole sprinted out of the room. Then there were two.

Calista began twirling at her twists; she had taken out her extensions to give her hair a break and Ana found Calista's new look so fun.

"Do you think I was too harsh?" she asked Ana with a saddened look.

"What do you think, Kane?" Aeron said as he slid next to Ana. He had the most incredible ability to pop into their business whenever he wanted. She couldn't help but shift a few inches to the side in order to put distance between her and the boy. "You saw his face, of course you were too harsh on him."

Ana hated to admit it, but Aeron was right. Anyone could see that their reaction bothered the boy and it pained her that he was off somewhere pouting in the castle. "Cal, unfortunately, he's right."

He looked at her disapprovingly, "Unfortunately?"

She gave him a half smile, hoping he would look over her comment, it was habit for her to be a bit snarky with him. He had been rude for the longest time, so if he took her reply as rude, she wouldn't lose any sleep over it. "We've got to make it up to him somehow."

"Like what?"

"Well no matter what you birds choose, you guys better hope Slytherin wins the game. Or else he'll be in an even worse mood." Aeron warned them as he slid away from the girls and bounded out of the Great Hall looking as stern as ever.

Ana and Calista's faces reflected one another; they were concerned. And their only saving grace was in Alex's hands. The incoming sound of owls hooting filled the room, distracting them from their current problem. Packages were falling, nearly hitting some kids in the head, but thankfully the post that came for Ana was just a tiny envelope. She took a bite out of her cinnamon roll and tore open the letter. Her favorite little guy had sent her a letter.

Dear Ana,

I can't wait for when your holiday break starts! The manor has been so boring without you. And quiet. I miss hearing you bump into things and then yelling at them for hurting you. Dobby says "hi" by the way. He wanted me to tell you that. I miss you a lot. Halloween wasn't the same without you baking brownies with Mum. She tried, but she didn't put little sprinkles on them like you do. Either way, have fun the rest of this term!

- Draco :)

Ana glowed as she read the letter from Draco. She was missing her little brother terribly. He was a clingy pain in her side, but he was her best friend. The manor was dull and quiet, but he was always the silver lining. There was life because of him. And it had been months since she had seen him last. She wondered if he got any taller, of if he was still a little ball of energy and eye rolls.

"What's got you so happy all of a sudden?" Calista asked, offering her a half smile; she felt too upset to give Ana anything peppier.

"It's just Draco," Ana sighed happily while she held the card up to her chest, as if that would bring her any closer to her brother who was cooped up in the manor. It didn't, but it felt right to do in Ana's mind.

Calista simply nodded at her friend, as she went about poking her cereal. Neither of them were super hungry anymore. The game was going to start soon.

Ana and Calista were standing outside the pitch waiting for Alex to return from speaking to Lucian. It had been radio silent from Alex's end and the two of them were beginning to worry. Both of the girls were shaking uncontrollably, not only because it was freezing, but because their nerves were getting to them.

"And what are you two snakes doing out here?" A familiar voice shouted from behind the girls. They turned around to see Fred and George giving them identical smirks. It was almost scary how perfect the twins mimicked one another. They were all snuggled in their matching monogrammed knit sweaters, their long Gryffindor scarves, and fluffy mittens. Ana momentarily wished she had one of those sweaters as another blast of cold ran through her. Her winter robes were stylish due to the Malfoy need to be in only the finest looking clothes, but they were terrible at keeping out the wind and the snow.

"We're waiting for our third snake," Ana replied with a challenging smirk. "Why aren't you two cubs in the stands yet?"

Calista was snickering behind Ana, as she watched one of the twins and Ana stare each other down. She looked over at the other twin who appeared to be entertained just by observing Ana and his older brother.

"Just wanted to root on the Slytherin team as they came from the changing room," Fred joked with a twinkle in his eye. "Ya know, being a good fellow Quidditch player. It's in the name of sportsmanship."

Ana rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness and she took a step closer to the red heads. Fred always had something to say. "And what exactly do you mean when you say you're going to 'root them on'?"

"They mean absolutely nothing, right boys?" Charlie Weasley turned from around a corner to grab at the shoulders of his younger brothers. Despite him being a seventh year, their older brother was not much taller than the twins, but he was far broader and stronger than they were. Ana assumed that if he went against the Hogwarts Express, the train would tip over on its side before the boy even noticed he'd been hit.

"What possibly-"

"-do you mean?" George finished his brother's sentence.

Calista chuckled at the two twins folding under their older brother's mere presence, and by Charlie's white knuckles, he was probably putting the boys in a little bit of pain. They never backed down from anything, but Charlie seemed to hold more power than the quiet boy let on.

"Oh, it's alright," Ana chuckled, as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She was freezing and the game didn't even start yet, but she was not going to turn down the opportunity to give the twins a hard time. And it seemed like Charlie was game, "I can handle these boys."

Charlie looked down at the tiny blonde girl who was shaking like a leaf and couldn't help but laugh softly. But when her eyes laser focused on him, he could tell that she was dead serious. "You know what, kid. I believe you."

Ana smirked at the boy's admission and the twins groaned in frustration.

From around the corner, Alex finally met the group but she was heaving so hard that Ana thought the girl would cough up a lung. She began blubbering, trying to talk through her labored breaths, but nothing coherent was coming out.

"I'm going to take her to the stands," Calista told Ana as she wrapped her hand around Alex's arm, dragging the gasping girl away from the Weasleys.

When she turned back, the boy's faces were redder than they usually were and she wondered if it was from the cold or their embarrassment. Charlie was putting them in their place without even having to try that hard.

"Let's get to the stands. Yeah, boys?" Charlie began squeezing their shoulders which made the boys twist in even more pain. All the while Charlie was grinning charmingly at the young girl. The twins squatted in order to escape their brother's vice grip which made Ana chuckle.

"Okay, fine. Merlin, Charlie you didn't have to grab our shoulders like a damn snitch!" Fred hollered at his brother while George laughed at them. George conceded and began to follow his older brother who had begun walking closer to the pitch and away from Ana.

"Ya coming, Freddie boy?" Charlie nagged, quirking an eyebrow which had a scar that ran through it. Ana wondered if he got the scar from being tough and wild like the boys or clumsy like her.

"I'll be right there," Fred replied, not looking as smug as he did before. The older Weasley and his twin turned and left the two of them alone. He brought his full attention back to Ana who was cradling herself in her own arms, trying to preserve as much heat as possible. The boy's face quickly turned serious as he peered down at her, "How are you feeling?"

Ana's eyes widened at the quick change in tone.

"I'm cold," she hoped that would be a good enough answer.

"No," he took in a deep breath. "You know what I mean, Malfoy."

Fred was not joking anymore. He was waiting patiently for her answer with a gentle curiosity. It wasn't off putting, she just wasn't sure why he was so concerned.

"How much of that night did you see?" Ana mumbled quietly, taking a few glances to make sure no one was watching them.

His eyes suddenly turned from a warm honey shade to almost looking black, "I saw enough to know that your head and shoulders are probably killing you, right about now."

She looked down at the ground. The idea of him seeing her in such a situation didn't sit well with her. Being roughed up was not new to her, but Ana found herself hating the sorry looks everyone gave her when she injured or hurt at school. She wasn't used to receiving pity, "Well, I feel perfectly fine."

Fred scoffed at the shivering girl, "Yeah, okay. You feel perfectly fine? Even after what Trelawney said to you?"

The boy's laugh wasn't meant to mock her. But he knew that any person who was slammed into a wall and screamed at by a nearly demonic teacher would not be feeling the best. She may be hard to read, but she wasn't impossible.

But the more Fred pushed her, Ana's heart sank further and further, "Oh, fantastic. You heard that, too." She chuckled dryly as her teeth started to chatter a bit as she hopped up and down.

"Yeah, I heard that," Fred confirmed. "But I'm sure she was just put in a trance or something. Charlie has said that she often blurts out random stuff all the time."

She offered him a weak smile, but Fred could tell that she was unnerved by the whole thing. He also couldn't stand that she looked like she was about to freeze on the spot, so he ripped off his mittens and offered them to the girl.

Before she could hide it behind her trembling hands, Ana's face broke out in a tiny smile. If Fred wasn't looking so hard he would have definitely missed it. But he saw it. Clear as day.

"Take them, blondie," he ordered, as he waved them in front of her, like a steak to a dog. "C'mon snake, take the mittens"

"Alright! Alright, fine," Ana blurted out as she took the offering and covered her frigid hands.

Fred nodded approvingly, "See? There's no need to be difficult."

"Oh, says the most difficult person I know." Ana scoffed.

"You know you could just say thank you and be on your way." The boy crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for the girl to come back at him with some snide comment like the smart aleck she was.

"I could," she giggled as she rubbed her newly clothed hands together.

Fred turned from the girl with a smirk as he followed the direction his brothers went. Godric, she was so stubborn, but it wasn't something that he entirely hated.

"Fred!" She called after the redhead.

He whipped his head back so fast at the sound of her voice, his body was half out the door.

"Thank you," Ana dipped her head as she waltzed past the boy and began heading where Calista and Alex went. Fred smiled as he watched Ana walk away from him; his hands were cold, but he couldn't care less.

"You're welcome, Bibi," he whispered when she was out of his sight.

"LUCIAN! LUCIAN! LUCIAN!" The three girls were all sitting in the stands cheering on their favorite beater, who kept his focus on the game. That was what he was supposed to do, but it hurt the girls to know that he wouldn't even look at them.

"I ran around the whole bloody castle!" Alex wailed over the sound of the heavy winds, "A whole hour, I ran trying to find him! He just disappeared."

The three girls were cuddling together underneath a blanket Alex brought to the game, which Ana was incredibly grateful for. Why Alex didn't think about bringing one was beyond her. Ana thought it was cold before when she was standing outside the pitch, but being outside and against the winds was a whole other story. The rain mixed with the frosty winds made her hair turn into little icicles; if she were to bend her locks she'd predict they'd chip off.

"Flint is racing towards the Ravenclaw goal and," Lee paused as the play was going on before him. "And Slytherin makes the point! That brings the score to 110 to 80."

Despite Lucian being in a horrible mood, he was zooming across the stadium like nothing ever happened. Ana hoped that his good performance wasn't because of his anger, because she didn't want to see him upset like that again.

Every twist and dip Lucian made on his broom made Alex holler in support. At one point Lucian did look over, and his scowl softened a bit. Ana tried her hardest to focus, but the heavy snow and winds made her want to dip her head in the blanket and burrow away. When she looked up she saw Fred and George from across the pitch. The two boys waved their hands tauntingly, showcasing how one of them was without their mittens. Ana's face heated up and she tore her focus away from them and back to the game.

After a grueling three hours in the snow and the wind, Slytherin defeated the Ravenclaw team 260 to 130, securing their place in the finals. Even though Slytherin won, the boy who stood in for the injured keeper proved himself to be a pretty good player. It was amazing how well he stayed on his broom even with the harsh weather. And because of that, before the teams got off the pitch, Lucian gave the boy a handshake, giving him the respect he deserved.

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x oc #bibiana malfoy #the girl who vanished #tgwv #tgwv 1-8 #enemies to friends to lovers

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demytasse · 5 years

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[Shizaya] Coping Mechanism — Ch 6

[Previous Chapters | Ao3]

The thing about running away from your problems is that it's not a solution, it's a coping mechanism. It resolves one issue but replaces it with another; a cowardly deed that re-stations one’s weakness out of sight while it remains in mind for everyone else.

It’s a strategy, running away, and not a very good one. Nothing more than a poor excuse for a sad soul — and a detriment to an unfortunate case put in recess.

“So you're back to ignoring him?”

Izaya flipped his phone so the screen could meet the table surface; it amplified a vibration or two.

“Now what would give you that idea?”

A buzz came from Shinra’s coat pocket which interrupted another and a subsequent in queue; he brought it out to hold a foot before Izaya in a seamless flash. Normally some amount of glee would have met the doctor's lips for how he mimicked one of his love’s trademark poses, but flat displeasure won out.

“I wonder why that could be?”

“How many times has it been?” The informant skimmed the screen before it was pulled from his purview.

Certain keywords had stuck out from the rest as if bolded; words like, ‘Izaya’ and ‘kill’ were interspersed between phrases, like ‘I swear’ at the beginning, ‘this time’ in the middle, and ‘I won’t’ somewhere near the end. Shizuo's compulsion to clarify his intent was so natural that it may as well have been a confession of murder before it was committed. Maybe that should be reassuring?

“I don't pay attention past my disappointment to count. It's annoying to assume that the stream of text messages is Celty narrating her day for me only to find that it's your boyfriend—”

“Ex.” Izaya corrected, a stern look to his eye.

“—that’s been abusing redial and over-utilising text prediction. Or maybe it’s text-to-speak; sometimes I get incoherent messages that somehow manage to sound more rage filled than if he abused my doorbell instead.”

“That's not my fault. You could pick up your phone, you know.”

“So could you!” Shinra threw his hands onto the back support of the couch, not too far from clipping Izaya’s nose while he slammed them down in frustration; upon impact his glasses fell askew, made him more comical than intimidating.

In jest, Izaya pulled back from Shinra’s tired pout and into a shrug. “Now that's silly. Why would I pick up your phone?”

—

The act of weakness stretched out across a week — less than tolerable for all of Izaya’s friend-like connections, easier to deal with himself as he fled Shizuo’s text message war zone with ease, but those neutral parties forced into the fray dragged him back into the trenches to which he met hell without so much of a helmet to protect him.

“Why would Shizu-chan assume we're hanging out?”

“I don't know, ask him when you call him back.” Kadota’s eyes flashed and his crossed arms mimicked a disappointed father.

Izaya was lucky that any attacks weren’t physical just heavily fired with baritone.

“But you realise, Dotachin, calling him would defeat the purpose of ignoring him.”

“I'm not even going to act surprised that you’ll admit to ignoring him. For my sake, at least, get him to stop calling me. It’s annoying on its own, but Erika’s demands for the next installment of her real-life soap opera are worse, and I don’t think I can fake that the messages stopped for much longer.”

“Sounds like trouble in otaku paradise.”

“Any paradise, if there ever was one, has been lost.”

They shared an easy chuckle. One of the two bookstore loiterers tugged his beanie back into place while the other corrected the lay of fur over his shoulders; they walked each other to the automatic sliding doors without a single glance to confirm they were going the same way.

“Well, it's been nice catching up with you old chum.” Izaya clapped Kadota on the back as he lead their exit through the doorway. “Maybe next time your gang and us can share cup ramen out of the back of the Mystery Machine.”

With a shocked expression, Kadota felt impressed that any effort was made to schedule time to hang out — faked or not, it was more than Izaya ever tried to in the past.

“I'll even splurge for you guys and bring the 900¥ kind, my treat!”

And it was that syrupy sarcasm that called the comment for what it was meant to be: a precursor of Izaya committing to nothing, promising nothing. Running from his duty to end Kadota's involvement with the odd-couple’s immature fight.

“It really is a wonder that Shizuo thinks we hang out.” Kadota sighed as Izaya gave him a cutesy wave goodbye.

—

It was quickly day seven — the dawn of week one since the incident and Izaya was still avoidant of the simple solution that everyone else seemed to know but him. Rather he knew it, he just didn’t care to put it into practice; and everyone wished he would stop pretending that his bone-bruised ego paralysed him from fixing things with Shizuo. It was psychological warfare at this point, stubbornness to win against his ex’s persistence for closure or resolution.

The whole scenario was pathetic.

[Ku] Iza-nii, it's weird for Shizu-nii to be texting us and not the other way around. [Ku] Are you going to text him back already?

[Mai] Fool.

[Ku] Exactly! You’re a fool! An idiot brother. We’re not even in high school anymore, but you’re involving us in adolescent drama like we are!!! [Ku] Gah! You’re like a teenage girl!!

[Mai] You’re sad.

[Ku] Tell you what! We’ll send Shizu-nii over to your place so you can just make up and fuck.

[Ku] Or fuck and make up. Either one. [Ku] Hahaha.

[Kanra] If you two interfere I will stop sending my dear sisters loving gifts of extra spending money.

[Mai] No bother.

[Ku] Keep the petty change, Nii-nii. We make enough on our own. [Kanra] Do I even want to know where you get your money from?

[Mai] …

[Ku] Huehue, better off only knowing that we make more than you do! [Ku] Bye-bye, Nii-nii~. [Ku] We do this out of love!

[Mai] Die.

Izaya wasn’t positive that their proclamation was legitimate, all things considered he’d act as if it were. Though his line of defense was likely to go against their wanted outcome, they wouldn’t know that fact until it was too late.

“Too bad your brother can outwit you two twerps.” Upon his schedule, he made a note on to send the obsessed duo on a wild-Yuhei hunt and moved onto better use of his work hours.

Furthermore he ignored a stray text message. Despite the sender’s hopes, the fairy had a fairly low chance to get a conversation going — that scarily passive threat was the type that’d only have an affect on her partner, assuredly not him.

//I'm tired of you playing this game, Izaya. Shizuo is really messed up this time around...//

Celty could play no head games with him.

—

Days later Izaya had been made an audience to a concert of metal all afternoon; intentionally raucous and purposely harsh, the crashes, clangs, and slams of kitchenware upset his continued productivity. All musical measures were a tune played out by an ornery employee, these days a willing partner in crime, but her overpaid salary still wasn’t enough to mute her percussion nightmare.

It only stopped when Izaya stopped his keyboard staccato for the day, progress little as it might be.

“Take it.”

“Woah there, Namie-san. Didn't know you were into that.”

Izaya addressed her phrasing rather than the food container wrapped in a cloth bag that was extended out to him. Namie’s arm was firm in front of herself, her offer pressed against his chest and demanded that he ‘take it’ or face repercussions.

“Take your cowardly ass over to your boyfriend's—”

“Ex.”

She spoke louder, “—to your boyfriend's apartment and talk things over with the bastard over dinner.”

Although it looked like it was a traditional bento made with love, akin to ‘what mom used to make’, his secretary looked a lioness that threatened an attacker of her pride rather than the human mother of a man-child that she was.

So thanks to the literal shove through his apartment door, Izaya found himself propped against the front of another. Slunk with his elbows upon his knees, a cloth bag dangled by an ear between his legs. He watched it spin before he directed it to go counterclockwise and around again to meet the same pattern.

Whether it was his misjudgement of time or Shizuo was late, it didn't change the fact that the mystery wasn’t one he could solve with pulled fabric, not like the uncover of what food Namie had made for the unhappy couple. For some reason it felt wrong to peek without the other recipient present as well. Maybe it was bad luck, as if anything that Namie touched could be blessed with good omens. What misfortune awaited him upon Shizuo’s eventual arrival made him refuse to take chances with weak willed boredom, and it itched his fingers to fiddle with the tight knot.

“No.”

Izaya perked up; he hadn’t noticed an elevator beep nor heavy footsteps — an oddity for the perceptive man.

“Don’t pretend that you weren’t desperate for my attention all week.”

“I’m not pretending.” Shizuo stoically defined his scowl.

“Are you sure? Maybe you were secretly hoping that I would fulfill some psychic booty call.”

“Fuckin’ hell, just go home! You’re drunk.” “We both know I’m not.” He muttered, “and that joke was hardly funny the first time, Shizu-chan.” “Then how else are you here?” “Easy, I walked.” “WHY else are you here?”

The long since hot, now room-temperature meal finally made its cameo. Izaya held up the bag with a dainty flirt, his pinky up on high, “a gift from my secretary.” Shizuo scowled harder. “Give my compliments to the chef and leave.”

“There’s dessert.” The emotionally exhausted man grumbled while he kicked his head back, his eyes pinched closed just as he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed with aggression. Shizuo was annoyed that everyone assumed that sugary sweets would automatically sway him. In any other case it would have, but in this particular scenario...it still did, though only to shut Izaya up and get him to stop with the needy pout that he wore as a secondary tactic.

Izaya knew that Shizuo couldn’t make him disappear, he also knew that he couldn’t let him run away of his own volition — he was certain that in a matter of seconds he would invite him in just to stop their passive aggressive squabble performed through pigeon mail.

“Hm, looks like it’s strawberry shortcake too. She knows you—”

“For the love of… Just get the fuck in here, fleabag!!”

AN: Needless to say, I had a tad bit fun with this one — what, with a horde of characters all randomly showing up within the same chapter, just to prove how much I love writing dialogue between petulant Izaya and anyone annoying Izaya and Shizuo can be to everyone around them. Feel free to comment or give feedback.

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reddogf13 · 5 years

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Between two Voids

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: It has been 12 years since Beverly was last in Derry. now 26 years old and returning with her boyfriend she strives for a life of normalcy in the small town. Unaware that a certain stalking creature has awakened much earlier than expected. Looking for a challenge to cure its boredom ,in the now crumbling town, IT aims to uproot her life as much as possible. Yet, is that really such a bad thing given her dark situation hidden from all but the eyes of a world eater?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

next chap: Between two Voids ch 2

_____________________________________

~ch: 1 Lonely day ~

October, 2001

“this shit aint workin for us.” a man dressed in loose clothing spit toward the ground. “its a big town. We just have to move somewhere smaller.” he added, pulling the thin jacket closer to his thin body.

“big towns give more.” Beverly shivered in her thin black jacket with even thinner clothing underneath. Her long sleeved dark blue shirt that hung down to mid thigh partially covering her ragged and ripped up dark jeans.

“give to people who don't need it. Remember all the damned families in the food line? Why don't they get jobs and make the kids work too.” Erik shifted his lean against the brick wall. “what's that small town you're from? Dairy land, dairy field, something to do with milk?” he asked.

“i – we – its not a very good place Erik.” she spoke delicately to avoid making him upset. Looking to the thin man wearing a hole covered grey t shirt that loosely hanged off him. A short neatly trimmed beard covering his face. Slicked back black hair that helped highlight his jade green eyes. Being a little taller than her with tanned skin from being out in the sun constantly. Beverly was sure she developed some sort of farmers tan of her own these past few years being homeless.

Her slight darkening not helping to hide the multiple lighter scars tarnishing her body. Marks across her arms being the most noticeable. A few spreading over her face, however her bright red curly hair detracted attention from those.

“whys that?” Beverly swallowed nervously at the heavy tone he gave her.

“lots of bad luck. … A lot of deaths. Many go missing.” Shed rarely told him about Derry as she preferred not too. After her childhood with the old gang against … IT. It was the last place she ever wanted to return to. Yet when things got difficult, which was common, Erik wanted to go straight there. She regretted ever mentioning Derry to him. “heh, you superstitious now? Sounds exactly like the place we're living in now. We need a smaller place to live. Someplace where foods easier to steal with no cameras on every street corner! Small towns are places stuck in the times of promises actually meaning something! We need a place like that to scam for real things!” Glaring her down until she flinched her gaze away.

“ … look babe.” he softened himself to bring her attention back. “you know winters coming. I don't want to see you shivering in the snow again for another year in a row. Smaller towns make things easier. You know I want whats best for you, right?” holding a smile for a false kindness. Something Beverly never fully trusted, but never questioned.

“... yes.” she answered passively.

“smart girl. You can take us to the dairy field, land, whatever.” he patted her face. Chuckling as she flinched away from the action.

“it's all the way in Maine.” she hoped with it being so far from new York he wouldn't want to travel.

“i got money for a bus.”

“you said we had no money.” she thought, glaring out of the corner of her eyes. Knowing well that saying so would get her another bruise on the ribs.

“come on babe! I want to get there sometime today!” he shouted back toward her on the way to the bus station. She sucked in a deep breath to gather some strength to follow behind.

Meanwhile far up north in the town of Derry something was stalking down below the roads. A huge insect like creature with many glowing yellow eyes shifting to be hidden under the skin. A smooth pointed head with rows of razor teeth bared in anger. Neck lined with sharp ragged Armour plates looking toward a warped grouping of ruffles. A bulky chest with 8 massive spider like claws at the most front. Out of the four sets of larger legs, one was slightly smaller in all black. resembling a praying mantis like position against ITs chest. The pair of praying arms being a cleverly disguised pair of hands ready to grab fleeing prey or to impale them down. Following behind the main body was a long armor sectioned body like a centipede crawling along on many legs.

The creature mumbling to itself with irritation at what its once lush hunting grounds had turned into. IT could keep Derry in a bubble of ignorance to its hunts, but not on the outside world. Things beginning to shut down in the small town was what started it all.

No more factory's meant no more work. Half the town was leaving for work to feed their family's. Then with no more people able to shop the stores closed one by one. Any families with kids have long since left. Leaving only old retired folk too stubborn to leave the town they were born in. With maybe a few younger members staying to care for the elders.

“nothing to hunt or to bring me entertainment.” IT growled to itself. Remembering the schools full of young children. Easy to scare into an exciting chase ending with a nice flavorful meal. Now all gone with the schools having to shut down.

“the current selection above not even worth the hunt anymore. Old meat tough as a tire with the rest being flavor less cardboard.” ITs large spider like limbs tapping across the stone tunnels with many centipede ones tapping behind. Stopping to lay down across the cool open floor of its home. Spreading out one of his hands to rest his chin upon. The other spreading to lay against the stone.

“i need something to get me along here. If it's not food I want a challenge to thrive against. Having those annoying children back would be better than this insufferable boredom.” tapping his sharp slender fingers against the stone. “i suppose though, they are not children any longer. It has been … 12 years.” adding up quickly in his head.

Feeling the town slowly erode over time had IT waking early over its full 27 year hibernation. At first he didn't think too much of it. Sure a bunch of humans left, but there was still plenty. Then the shops closed, and when the schools shut down he grew worried.

“with so little prey I don't have to keep Derry in a bubble at this point. Winter is the primest hunting with no suspicion when the older humans disappear after a blizzard. “oh they just walked off to die in the snow. Big surprise.”” he mocked in a higher voice. Puffing out a huge breath of air at the pathetic prey above.

“another day scratched off this rock in space.” breathing in with a stretch to his feet. Catching a scent in the air with the approach of something. “hmm, something new? Something full of fear soaked in the stench of blood coming here? How interesting.” Long strands of drool oozing off its teeth at such a delicious smell above. Twisting around on itself back down through the tunnels to go see what arrived.

“why the hell is it freezing up here! You didn't say anything about winter being here already!” Erik shivered after stepping off the bus with Beverly right behind.

“it is further north.” she muttered.

“what did you say? You want to speak up?!” he hissed out with a harsh shove to Beverly. Smiling at seeing her flinch in reaction at the minimal threat. “i am sorry, the colds getting to me. Help me find someplace to buy you hot food to make up for it?” shifting drastically to a more polite tone toward her.

“yes, ... I can.” giving a wavering smile. Cautiously passing by with her body preparing for a possible blow against it. Breathing out in relief when no hits came. “i shouldn't have said that. I was stupid for saying that.” she scolded herself. Walking ahead at a slow pace to keep from getting too far. He hated when she got too far away or entered a place before him.

“why are we stopping here?” he asked.

“a diner used to be here.” she answered quietly. Walking around had her notice many changes in the town. Many places boarded up with dust filling the windows. Foreclosure letters blowing down the streets. Hardly anyone out walking the streets. It all seemed so dead from what the town used to be like in her childhood. She wondered just how much had changed since she was last here.

“you know another place?” his tone hinting aggressive impatience.

“i think so.” holding her breath with worry at what might happen if she didn't find a place soon. If she hadn't been so worried she may have noticed the many eyes watching from a water drain across the street.

“how wonderful, young Beverly has returned. Filled with so much fear since the last we faced. Scared of my presence like she so rightfully should be?” IT chuckled to himself. Crawling his long sectioned body further down the tunnels to watch her from multiple drains. Many yellow eyes in two rows of fours peeking out from the small space in the streets. The eyes weren't necessarily needed with him able to track on body heat alone. It was more for seeing the finer details or merely intimidation reasons. Prey didn't like to be stared down by eight large eyes after all.

Beverly stiffened her stride at seeing something bright yellow pass in a dark drain. Staring toward the drain to catch another glimpse at what she may have seen.

“why are we stopping?!” Eriks yelling scaring her into looking forward again.

“sorry, needed to remember the way.” an excuse with her voice hardly being present for the whole thing.

“IT can't be here. It hasn't been a full 27 years yet.” she spoke to herself, The anxiety she avoided by leaving Derry returning full force. “it's just worry having me turn paranoid. IT would have made its presence much more known if it was here. IT wasn't one for being subtle.” she thought.

The situation wasn't the same as when she was a kid. The support of her friends following her everywhere. She felt no fear when they were all together. Now all she had left was Erik, he wasn't exactly the most empathetic. The guys were right about him ruining her. He had her believe the guys didn't want her happy. That they wanted her to be completely reliant on them and she believed Erik. She said quite a few things she came to greatly regret along with her choice of who to be with in the end.

Since then she had turned completely reliant on Erik for everything she needed. She had no money, no place to go, she wasn't even allowed to hold her own ID card. He held her card and “their” money with him saying its for the best. She felt it was impossible to apologize for the things she said to her friends. Even if she could manage the proper words she had no way of contacting them. She was isolated in the world with only Erik for support.

“um, h-here we are.” she stood by the front door of the diner for Erik to enter first. Following silently behind to the seat he choose.

“you having a burger?” he asked to only sound polite in public. Beverly knew he got what he wanted her to get, which was usually something cheap. Nodding to make it feel less awkward between them.

“at least i'll be getting food today.” she thought. With neither of them earning money they relied heavily on stealing. Erik was the better of the two with skills in pickpocketing. Beverly, even though she's done it multiple times, had not gotten used to it. Fear of being caught overwhelming her most the time into stopping. Anxiety growing every minute on when the next meal would be or even where they would sleep.

“In new York they had homeless shelters, but none to be found here.” She thought with a hand combing through her bright red hair to relieve stress. Looking out the large window to pass the time. Hearing the sound before a blanket of rain poured on the dreary town.

“perfect.” she thought unhappily about stepping out into that. The creature below the streets carefully examining over the two. Its excitement growing with two possible play things entering its territory.

“hmm, she brought a friend with her.” ITs voice spoke from a drainage gate. Unable to be heard past the loud waterfall pouring through the drainage entrance. “this will be a fun surprise for both of them. Ah, now when should I visit?” he cheerfully wondered. Leaving down the sunlit drainage tunnels to wait for his time to properly present itself.

“yes, I understand.” When the food arrived, Erik had broken out in a huge lecture about money. He was always incredibly cheap when it came to spending money on those other then himself.

“i am serious. We have to start saving money babe.” he said while cutting into a thick steak.

“maybe if you didn't spend like a king. We would have money.” thinking bitterly with another bite off her burger.

“can't afford any place right now. Where can we sleep?” he asked.

“there's … not really … anywhere to go.” she muttered, knowing the reaction to that coming up.

“nowhere, there's absolutely no where to go?!” his tone turned unhappy.

“its … very small and-” she tried to explain that there were no shelters or food lines in the small town. Flinching at Erik banging a fist on the table. Sitting then on in silence with gaze aimed toward the ground.

“so why did we come here? Why did you bring us up here? Huh?! You didn't think things through again. This is why I have to think of everything!” he leaned his body toward her. Both hands clenched in a fist with a few heavy pounds on the table.

“sorry.” she passively apologized. Something she did regularly in the hopes she wouldn't be harmed. It had a common theme of failure no matter how sincere she made it.

“sorry doesn't work when I have to sleep in the rain because of your mistake. Get up, let's go, you're done. It's late and we need to find a place before the sky turns black.” he wanted to deal with her away from outsider eyes. Erik hated when people butted in or called the police on him. Beverly abandoned her food still remaining while his was long finished. She didn't dare argue with him. Fear growing inside her about what was going to happen after they reached someplace without people watching.

“this better be a fucking joke. We just got off a bus after a 7 hour drive. I am tired, its raining, you better figure something out or i am gonna be really pissed!” he threatened her outside the diner.

“there's a junkyard.” she fearfully offered up.

“that's the best you can do?!” one of his fists raising up over her head. Her body flinching into itself as she spoke multiple apologizes on reflex. “shut up, just go!” waving a pointed finger for her to start moving. Her walking a little fast to stay ahead of his furious pace.

The two shivering as the pouring rain drenched through there coats made for summer. Walking for quite some time to the junkyard. Passing the edge of town where there were no more roads, only a wide dirt or technically muddy path. No street lights to brighten it up under the settling darkness. Beverly swallowing at passing under the run down junkyard sign.

“we arrived in a bus. Might as well sleep in one too.” Erik grumbled while heading over to a broken down school bus. The outside had paint peeling with rusted spots all over the frame. The windows being somehow intact, although covered in some moss from the ages. Erik approached to the back exit door. Wrenching open the back exit, with a painful metallic screech sounding out, for them to get in. “hey, our luck is going up. There's a hobo stove in here.” a bit more cheer in his voice. Taking a piece of wood from the metal barrel to light with a lighter from his pocket. Throwing it back into the metal barrel to grow a fire on the rest of the half burnt wood.

Beverly sat away from him without a word. Wanting to avoid his wrath at least for one night. Anxiously watching him from the corner of her eye. Making sure to avoid being caught watching him. He hated when he found her looking at him, talking, or doing anything without permission. He may as well have hated her very existence at some points. Hours of awkward silence passing between the two. Her anxiety building with the falling sun. the fiery colors of the sunset slowly replaced by the light of the burning fire.

The rain pouring harder over the course of time. Condensation building on the mossy windows to block any views to the outside. Beverly being happy for the heat, but not for who she was sharing it with. She had considered countless times on leaving him with a few attempts actually made. Unfortunately he always found her no matter how far she traveled. Being a girl with bright obvious red hair had its downsides. His friends weren't the most fond of her either. Ratting out her location as soon as she was spotted anywhere.

Her hidden watching faltering when she saw him light up a cigarette. Glaring at him for enjoying an expensive luxury only he was allowed. She hadn't smoked in a long time, but the cravings were still there. A twitchy irritating feeling under her skin burning as she watched him smoke. Her glare going on a little too long grabbed his attention.

“what?!” he snapped. Staring her down even after she looked away. Regret filling her chest when she heard him get up. Clawing into her own arm to stop her terrified shivering.

Outside the pouring down rain covered the sounds of multiple legs creeping through the piles of junk. Approaching the lit up bus just close enough to see through the water blurred windows. The smell of fear radiating from the metal structure. The multiple nostrils at the end of ITs snout flaring up to breath in the scent.

“is she aware of my presence? I cant be that rusty on my hunting yet.” IT thought. Resting low to the ground to keep hidden in the dark night. ITs curiosity growing over what he expected Beverly to do if she was aware. His body stretched up enough to peek through a blurry window. Discovering the true origins of her fear planting a seed of discontent within IT.

“you going to start this early?! Why do you always want to make me angry?! You think I like being angry at you?!” Erik ranted down at her flinching in the seat. Slamming a fist down into her ribs hard enough to knock the wind out of her lungs. She winced in pain, locking up at a second painful hit.

“stop flinching! You know I didn't hit you that hard!” he spoke with little pity for her pain. “go to sleep!” finishing his assault on her.

“sorry.” she wheezed out, not daring to look at him.

“shut up! I don't want to hear a sound from you!” he threateningly looming over her, daring her to say another word. Slowly backing away over to the barrel fire.

She took shallow breaths in to ease the pain away. Staying curled on the seat against the wall. Shaking as quietly as she could to not draw anymore attention on her. Not even wanting to move from the uncomfortable position she was curled in.

despite the lovely scent of fear he was breathing in. IT was disappointed at what it had seen.

“not the challenge she once was.” IT thought little of the new cowering Beverly. “this much fear coming off her from a pitiful male. Yet I could not gain any off her long ago. What a disappointing turn of events this has become. She could make a good meal, but that isn't my main reason for coming. I wanted a challenge, something to put me in a rush. I wont get any entertainment from her if she so easily crumbles like a leaf! Maybe letting her fester will have her straighten out.” he thought, carefully crawling away to not be noticed.

Beverly stayed up for hours even when she could hear Erik snoring a few seats away. Staring up at the cold window all through the night. Watching the sky change with the rising sun. gaining something good from the cold morning air turning the metal bus sides into an ice pack. Resting her freshly bruised ribs on the freezing metal.

Inside she debated on moving or staying still. Terrified of accidentally waking Erik at any little noise she could make. The feeling of being sick growing confidence inside just enough to get up. Sneaking as quiet as a mouse to the end of the bus. Turning the back exit handle with a screeching pop. Pausing to slowly look back at Erik for any movement. Looking forward with held breath to slide the door open with a unintentional drawn out screech of the metal.

Stepping quietly out onto the dirt. Letting out a breath at the fresh morning air. Covering her mouth at the painful cough coming up at breathing in deeply with bruised ribs. Walking a few feet from the bus to cough without risk of waking Erik. Crouching down to the floor with exhaustion filling her muscles. Breathing in at a more delicate amount to not start up another coughing fit.

“Please have him work today.” she prayed in thought. Erik left Beverly on most the mornings to go pick pocketing. It was the only time she had temporary freedom to relax. If you could truly call it freedom. Erik didn't like her freely walking around since she tried running from him the first time.

“babe!” she heard him shout from inside the bus. Having her body jump with her heart skipping a beat.

“outside.” she answered quickly. Holding in a coughing fit from shouting. She didn't move from her crouched position. Afraid he was going to be mad at her outside without asking first.

He stepped out seeming half awake. Walking over with a calm stride to be feet away from her.

“... i am sorry about last night. I know you didn't mean to make me angry. You forgive me?” speaking toward her back with fake sincerity. The same as every other morning after “she caused” a fight. Her body tensing at the sensation of him crouching low next to her.

“yes.” she spoke quietly. Not honestly feeling what she answered with.

“thanks babe. I'll bring you back something after work.” Startling her with a kiss on the cheek before he went off.

She slowly let out a long breath she held in his presence. Looking back to make sure he was fully gone from the junkyard. Not noticing something else watching her from among the junk.

“what was that?! Why did she accept?!” IT thought with a deep inner frustration. “the female who once so boldly jammed a iron rod through my head! The female who faced me directly in my lair with only words! now accepts some false words with barely any emotion?! This is an insult! What is this new males position? Are they mates? Cant be so, shes far too above this pathetic male! Or at least she used to be.” he thought. Watching her sit out on the open dirt. “just going to sit there like a chained dog?” it started as a thought, but a few words escaping out of frustration.

Beverly's head shot up at the voice. Jumping to her feet at recognizing it as the clowns. Her fear and cold mixed shivering coming to a halt. Her eyes now slowly scanning across the mounds of items for his figure.

IT held its body still with the surrounding junk for camouflage. A spark of interest coming from her reaction to his unintentional speaking. Noticing much of her fear shedding away completely in preparedness to face him.

“maybe i am hearing things?” she thought. Failing to see ITs figure anywhere or hear anymore of its voice. Not even hearing clearly what IT said, if IT said anything at all.

“ITs not here. IT can't be here.” she thought to calm herself. Grabbing her side at feeling her ribs ache from tensing up. She walked over to lean against the cold bus for some relief on her ribs.

“going against natural instincts of self defense when harmed. What purpose could that serve? If she was like this when facing me … she must be playing a game with the male. She wouldn't sit by accepting such harm without a farther goal ahead.” IT thought to make sense to itself on what was the reasoning in Beverly's mind. The interest IT had now gone with the frustration returning.

“maybe I should just end her misery. With all the delicious fear she emanates it would be a waste to let a fine meal go if it were caught in my web. ” IT thought after watching Beverly stand around in pain for most the day. “I'll play along to this game she has for a little while. If she's smart she won't test my patience.” moving when he was sure she had no eyes in his direction. Crawling off to the Neibolt house not far past the neighboring train tracks.

Beverly sat on the front steps of the bus. Eyes shut leaning her back against the mini metal wall acting as a rail. Watching waves of wind brush over the treetops. Closing her eyes momentarily with a deep inhale of the fresh air hitting her face. Opening with a look over, seeing Erik walking back she went to greet him by the gate.

“hey babe, want to go for a walk?” his question raising red flags in Beverly's mind.

“... sure.” Beverly answered hesitantly. Body tensing at what Erik was planning to do. They didn't just go on walks for enjoyment. They did enough walking when merely looking for supplies to live off of.

“you lead.” there was no emotion on his face. Making it difficult for Beverly to guess what was to be expected. She gave a small nod while passing him. Watching him from the corner of her eye.

“it might be best for me to head somewhere public.” she thought. Heading directly back to town instead of somewhere secluded in the surrounding woods. Body relaxing at being around others, despite knowing that ITs curse of bad happenings being ignored still around. “he doesn't know about it.” thinking about the curse and Erik. Which was good for her with him not liking to harm her in public for fear of cops getting involved.

Every now and again he would ask her a question about the town. Beverly figuring out he was making this walk into a tour. Something she didn't mind too much as long as it kept his anger away.

“what's that place?” Beverly looked in the direction he pointed toward her old school. Seeing the building falling apart with boards covering every entrance possible. Some areas of brickwork falling out of place in the walls. The roof being covered in rusted holes leaving her imagination running on how rotten the insides were from weather.

“wow, that's my old high school. Can't believe they shut it down. It used to have so many kids when I went there. It's the same place where all the guys went to too.” shocked at its state after once being so lively.

“okay I didn't need a little story.” he pushed her along to rush past it. “where's that bridge lead?” he asked next.

“it's the big main bridge that passes over the river. Heads toward the factory's that turns to farmland after a while.” she explained.

“river huh? Is it clean?” his walking momentarily stopping at the front of the bridge. Making his way down the dirt slope to the rocky river edge.

“uh, sort of? It's where all the street drainage pipes lead. No sewage in it.” starting to follow his lead down the shore.

“looks a lot better then shitty new York water. That stuff is like black sludge workers tar the roads with.” he kicked multiple rocks into the water while walking along the river's edge.

“yeah ...” Beverly passively agreed.

“does this same river run by the junkyard?”

“sometimes. A dry creek splits from it that only fills during the spring floods.” Looking down as she stopped focusing on the environment around them.

“is there a treatment plant around here?”

“yes.”

“is that where that huge drainage pipe leads?”

“what?!” Beverly froze to focus on their surroundings. Seeing the drainage pipe she never wanted to go near.

“this pipe. Does. it. go. To a treatment plant?” Erik asked rudely in a much slower speech.

“uh ...” she tensed. Mind stalling on what answer to give. “What's most likely to get him away from the pipe.”

“hello?!” waving at her for attention. Patients running out on the answer coming.

“yes.” she blurted out.

“good, water treatments can make pretty great houses. You know that? Workers rarely visit, tons of space, lots of heat drawing off water pipes in the winter. practically a house of itself. As long as you don't get lost in the pipe network.” Heading to the pipe entrance to look deeper inside.

“uh- i- what are we doing here?!” she stumbled over the words to speak. Her body tensing the more he drew closer to the pipe.

“i wanted to find a better spot to stay in. those bus seats are killer on my back. Let's check out the inside.” completely ignoring her stress on purpose.

“no!” she exclaimed firmly.

“no?!” he glared from the pipe entrance.

“i-it's not safe!” Her strong voice momentarily crumbling under his glare.

“It's fine as long as you're not stupidly swimming around. Now get in here!” She stood there on the rocky shore with hesitance on going in. her fear of Erik being stronger than her fear of ITs lair, for the moment.

She guardedly walked in behind him. Sounds of rushing river water slowly fading into the background. The sounds left to hear were the echo of moving water at their feet the deeper they went in. sunlight slowly diminishing to the void of surrounding blackness.

Beverly's fear of Erik ebbing away to her body filling with adrenaline. Hesitating at every pipe crossing to make sure nothing was ready to pounce from the darkness.

“hey, there's light. Must be the center.” Erik happily announced. Beverly stopping inside the remaining bit of tunnel. Watching Erik go out into the open room with ITs pile at the center. Lit up by the blue sky light raining down from a large skylight up above everything. Memory's of how the open lit air above used to be filled with mutilated bodies. “wow, look at all this junk. They must find stuff blocking the pipes and just throw it here.” she watched him wander around the various items collecting up into the towering pile.

Erik's voice echoed along the stone walls down into the core of the large mound. large strands of oversize spider webbing vibrating with the echos passing. long rows of eyes opened to the sensation with long twisted body uncurling.

Rising to meet the presence of prey in its home.

Erik turned once noticing Beverly wasn't by him. “what are you doing? Get out here and look!” he waved for her to come over.

“no!” she shouted back.

“no?!” he glared.

“yes, no!” Holding her own challenging stare against him. Fear of him hurting her all gone as long as she was deep within the tunnels. She had something bigger to fear that hopefully wasn't home at the moment.

“Why are you being so difficult?! Get over here!” Erik spoke through gritted teeth. Furiously pointing down at the ground in front of him. She refused to speak further with him. Holding her ground with fists so tightly curled her nails dug into her palms.

“Are you really trying to start a fight with me?! When I'm the one looking for a nicer place, for us, to sleep!” tightening his own fists with mutterings of all kinds of curse words following.

“i don't want to be here!” she whispered through gritted teeth.

“it's just a room of water and cement! What could possibly hurt you, the rats?” Erik grabbed her by the arm. Dragging her out more toward the center of the room into the light. The two breaking out into a fight starting with Beverly biting down into Erik's arm, forcing him to let go. She got a returning blow to her arm. A new bruise being sure to form at the area. He grabbed a hold of her shirt with her doing the same.

Both stumbling to the ground throwing punches back and forth. A few cuts collecting with the heavy struggle on the jagged concrete stone. Erik gaining the upper hand with his extra height over her. Throwing her off him to smash her into the wall. Beverly standing defensively with a heavy flow of blood off her freshly cut mouth. Getting sliced against a cement shard sticking out of the wall when she fell.

“Ever since we got in here you've acted like a freak! I was looking for a nice place we can both stay, but now I have to defend myself from your insane acting! You started this, not me, you’re lucky i don't strangle you like some assholes would!” he panted with a spit of drool toward the ground. Wiping dirt off his clothes to face her for another round.

All the energy Beverly had was spent in the first fight. Ribs in an extreme amount of pain after being smashed down left and right. Her breathing turned to pained wheezing. Fear settling in place of the lack of energy. Digging her nails into the wall beside her in desperation to stay on her feet.

Erik went forward to punch her when something big lunged from the darkness. Beverly only got a glimpse of many legs, yellow eyes and rows of teeth, it was all she needed to see to flee. Bolting away to a new tunnel while Erik went down where they came from. Separated by ITs large presence of snarling teeth snapping together.

Letting out a long deep hiss toward the tunnel Erik fled down. Shifting away to head down Beverly's path of escape. Following the heavy scent of blood leading along the tunnels. Getting closer to the sound of her footsteps fleeing through the water.

Running endlessly with no direction on injured ribs was not working for Beverly. she stopped momentarily to try and catch her bearings. Minimal light shining down through the tunnels making things just barely see able. the sound of water being disturbed leading her gaze back behind her. Hopes of Erik appearing crashing down with large spider legs coming into view.

“shit!” she thought. Trying to run more against the rounded wall then in the water to prevent noise. “find a weapon!” was all that her mind was screaming. If she reaches a dead end with nothing for defense it was going to be a complete end, and there it was.

A dead end of a grate made of metal rods. Her heart sunk for a moment, searching for something to give her an out, spotting one rod being badly rusted. She grabbed a hold of it with little hesitation to yank on it. Kicking it a few times to twist it into snapping off. Holding it against her body to keep it hidden.

She didn't want IT seeing the weapon until it was too late. She stood still at the tunnels end in wait. Panting painfully with the taste of blood in her mouth. A dizzy feeling washing over her enough she needed to lean against the wall. She gathered herself to stand again on her own. Focusing on the space of the tunnel behind her. Feeling IT approach around the corner with a deep breath of air flowing out its snout.

Beverly listening to the water being disturbed to guess how close IT was. A sense of the darkness turning into a deeper void at its large form shadowing over her. Skin crawling as she felt ITs hot breath flowing over her back.

_________________________

authors notes please read:

i made this because, i wanted something a little different then the usual Beverly/ pennywise fics. one where Beverly isint just a pure sex/ mind controlled slave and pennywise isint being a pure insufferable jackass.

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #beverly still kicks pennywise's ass #12 years after movie #pennywise x beverly marsh #between two voids ch 1

3 notes · View notes

mrslittletall · 5 years

Text

Title: A Storm is coming (Chapter 4) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein (eventual romance), Dark Sun GwyndolinWord Count: 2.443 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610/chapters/41826608 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/182351536699/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-3-fandom-dark

Summary: Tempest and Ornstein have some kind of talk. Gwyndolin takes care of Ornstein.

(Author's note: I will admit it right away, writing these parts is difficult. The characters are extremely stubborn, especially Ornstein, and I feel like I have to bend and twist with them so that they act in favour of the story. Please stay with these dorks, I promise they will get better.)

Tempest squeaked in surprise and tried to withdraw his arm, but the grip of the dragon slayer was too strong and he couldn't move a single inch. His hand was still clutching the braid.

“Don't ever think about touching me again.”, the dragon slayer growled.

“I am sorry.”, Tempest squealed. “Would you let me go? You are hurting me.”

“First let go of my hair.”, the knight said and jerked up. Then he suddenly let go of Tempest arm, murmuring “Mistake...”, clasped a hand over his mouth and Tempest instantly knew what the bucket was for and handed it to the dragon slayer just in time before he could soil his blankets. Tempest stepped a few steps back from the bed, releasing the braid, asking himself if he should have hold it nonetheless as he watched the dragon slayer noisily puking into the bucket.

When the dragon slayer was finished, he was fumbling for the jar of water on the night stand and used it to clean out his mouth. He then carefully laid back in the pillows, glaring at Tempest.

“This is your fault.”, he said.

“I thought you wouldn't wake up.”, Tempest said, staring anywhere but into the eyes of the knight.

“How couldn't I wake up when you were so close to me and touching me without my consent?”, the dragon slayer asked. “What were you thinking?”

“...I wanted to know how it feels like...”, Tempest said. “It looked so soft.”

“You could have at least asked first.”

“Would you have allowed it then?”

“No.” The dragon slayer crossed his arms in front of his chest, grumbling a bit, then unfolded them again as if the position had been uncomfortable. “Where's Gwyndolin?”, he asked.

“They asked me to watch over you while they rested.”, Tempest truthfully said.

“Great, so they left me alone with the idiot?”, the dragon slayer murmured.

“I have a name, you know.”, Tempest said.

“Don't care, idiot will suffice for now.” The dragon slayer had a sardonically grin on his face.

“Well then, dragon slayer.”, Tempest said, putting as much coldness in the last words as possible, and sat down on the chair, feeling the glare off the dragon slayer still on him. Well, that felt uncomfortable. It felt like Tempest should do or say anything, getting some small talk started, so that this awkward silence between them would cease.

“So, how was it feeling like having to guard the cathedral for around a hundred years with a cannibalistic brute?”, he asked in as much of a casual tone as possible.

Tempest started to suggest this question had been a mistake, when he didn't get an answer right away. He slowly turned his head to look at the dragon slayer and was greeted by a face which was hardly able to contain the fury of its owner.

“Leave.”, the dragon slayer said between clenched teeth. Tempest shot up, the chair falling down in the process. His gaze fell on the bucket.

“I, uh, I think I will clean this up.”, he said and quickly ran out of the room.

When Tempest returned to the room, the dragon slayer had laid back down in the pillows, but was still awake. Tempest placed the bucket next to the bed, raised the chair and tiptoed away, sitting down at one of the chairs at the table, at a reasonable distance of the knight.

“I think I told you to leave.”, the dragon slayer said coldly.

“Look, I am sorry.”, Tempest said. “I have said something wrong. But the dark sun wants me to watch over you, so I can't leave. I won't talk to you anymore, I promise.”

He heard a deep sigh coming from the dragon slayer. “We need to talk when I am supposed to help you out.”, he said. “Why do you think that what you have said was wrong?”

“Uh, because you clearly were upset about it?”

“You called him a brute.”

Who? Oh, he was talking about the executioner. Wait a moment... from every story he had heard, it always had been said that Ornstein, the dragon slayer and Smough, the executioner hated each other. Smough, because he had never been granted knighthood and Ornstein, because he despised the cannibalistic ways of the executioner.

“...Was that, like, a misconception?”, Tempest asked.

“Smough was so much more then what people depicted him as.”, the dragon slayer started. “He was kind, understanding, soft, cute and... the light of my life.” He clenched his fists. “And then you came along and killed him.”, he hissed. “And you failed to kill me. This is unforgivable.”

Tempest blinked once, then twice, then shot up. “Wait, WHAT?”, he shouted. “You and Smough were like, a COUPLE?” He could hardly believe his own ears. He would blame it on feeling hollowed out, but right now Tempest was in his human form and his ears were working amazingly well.

“Yes.”, the dragon slayer just answered. “So I guess now you'll know why I reacted this way. If I just would have been able to follow him...”

Tempest sat down again: “I am sorry, I had no idea...” The rest of the words was lost when he tried to make sense of all of this.

So, Ornstein, the dragon slayer, and Smough, the executioner, had loved each other. And he supposed they had been happy with each other, as happy as possible living in a dying city at last. And then Tempest had come along and killed one of them. By the lord, would that have happened to him, he would be pissed and devastated too. And nonetheless, the dark sun was expecting them to work with each other? Tempest put his head on the table and sighed. What had he gotten himself into? Should he try and apologize for this? What good would this do? As he was still pondering his option, the dark sun came back into the room.

“Oh, Ornstein, you are awake. How about some food?”, they asked. They noticed Tempest sitting at the table. “Are you two getting along?”, they asked.

Tempest was in the process to open his mouth but closed it again, unsure about what to say, when the dragon slayer spoke: “Don't worry, we will manage.” Tempest saw him smile at the Dark Sun, but it felt kinda pained. Tempest just raised his hand in a thumbs up gesture.

“Some food would be fine, but nothing to heavy.”, the dragon slayer said. Tempest almost offered his help at cooking the meal, but the Dark Sun vanished quickly, muttering “Let's see what I can do.”

Tempest sighed and strolled over to the bed, sitting down on the chair.

“I am sorry.”, he said. “But in my defense, I didn't knew you weren't dead. I thought after the executioner had crushed you, you would be gone for good.”

Tempest could feel the glare of the dragon slayer on him. “And it didn't occur to you to check if maybe the job needed to be finished? Aren't you an elite knight of Astora?” He gestured at Tempest's armour.

Tempest looked down at him, straightening the blue tabard. “Oh, this? It isn't my armour. I picked it up in the Dark Root Garden, it was laying around there on a corpse. I am from Astora, but I never have been a knight. I just couldn't resist putting this thing on, wearing that armour is pretty much every young Astoran's dream.”, he explained.

“Oh...”, the dragon slayer said. “I should have figured this out on my own. Still...”, the eyes of the dragon slayer pretty much pierced into Tempest. “I resent that you didn't check and left me to bleed out and to... survive...” The knight averted his gaze from Tempest and stared at the wall instead.

“I am sorry.”, Tempest said again, not knowing what else to say.

“Apologizing won't help.”, the dragon slayer murmured. “Just let me heal up, try to stay out of my sight and let us get this done as quickly as possible.”

Tempest considered their talk to be over and retreated to the table. A few minutes later the Dark Sun came with a bowl of steaming oatmeal and handed it to the dragon slayer. Tempest watched them sit down next to the dragon slayer and keeping him company while eating. Tempest in the meantime, wondered if he would be able to taste the oatmeal now that he had regained his human form for the moment? Since he had become undead, he didn't had experienced any hunger and when he tried to eat something, it tasted like nothing, but that had been in his hollowed out form. Usually, drinking estus was all he needed. It was also a thing he could taste, even though it pretty much tasted like something had put fire and ashes into a bottle. With nothing better to do, Tempest grabbed for the emerald flask at his belt and inspected the liquid inside. What really was it? It got filled up whenever he touched a bonfire, so was it like, liquid bonfire? His thoughts got interrupted when he heard the Dark Sun say:

“It is time to change your bandages, Ornstein.”

With the estus flask still in hand, Tempest rushed over to the bed. “Wait a moment.”, he said, excitedly waving around the bottle. “Why can't we use my estus? It heals any wound in seconds.” His excitement abated when he felt both the gaze of the dragon slayer and the dark sun on him.

“Idiot, that stuff doesn't work on us. It is an Undead thing.”, the lion knight said.

“Oh...”, Tempest said and then perked up again. “But, what about miracles? That is a god thing, right?”

“When my sister still would be here...”, the dark sun said. “I am not very skilled in them, my field has always been moonlight magic.”

“Crap..”, Tempest said and took a few steps away from the bed. “Sorry, I just wanted to help.”

“Well, I wanted to change Ornstein's bandages now, you can help by getting his hair out of the way.”, the dark sun said. Both Tempest and the dragon slayer froze.

“I... don't think that is a good idea...”, Tempest stammered.

“Yeah...”, the dragon slayer added. “I don't want him to touch me. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Oh, I should have figured, I am sorry for being so tactless, Ornstein.”, the dark sun said. “But like, feel free to stay here, maybe you learn a thing or two about bandaging wounds. Are you fine with this Ornstein?”

“Ugh, alright.”, the dragon slayer said and Tempest went around to stay at the foot of the bed, inspecting the work of the dark sun.

They started with the bandage around the dragon slayer's head and as soon as it was off, Tempest had to gasp at how bad this wound looked, terribly swollen and bruised along a laceration which had been stitched. It was no wonder the dragon slayer was feeling sick with that, his brain probably had gotten a good shaking. Tempest once more wondered how in the world he had manage to survive this blow? Tempest never had been able to survive a blow with the hammer when he already had been hurt. He watched the dark sun carefully cleaning the wound, making the dragon slayer wince, it surely must had hurt, before applying a fresh bandage. The next thing that happened, was the dragon slayer undressing himself and as soon as Tempest realized that, he turned red under his helmet, averting his gaze, asking himself why he did that, why he felt like that and forced himself to look back.

A slight disappointment and a bit of guilt washed over Tempest when he saw the chest of the dragon slayer wrapped in thick bandages. Both legs too, Tempest remembered that they had been a main focus for him, first because the dragon slayer was twice his size and second to rob him of his mobility. The dark sun was changing the bandages on the legs first, but Tempest was more distracted by the countless scars on the dragon slayer's body, a lot of them clearly burns, a particular large one seemed to adorn the left side of his body, probably even going down the back, but he couldn't see it from his position.

“Don't stare at me like that.”, the dragon slayer hissed, face slightly flushed, and Tempest muttered a quick apology, focusing on the work of the dark sun. Most of the cuts on the legs were already healing good, but one or two were also stitched and it explained why the dragon slayer had stand on so shaky legs when he had first encountered him in the hallway in front of the tomb.

Now that both legs had wrapped into fresh bandages, the dark sun started to unwrap the one on his chest. Tempest did hold in a breath when he saw the large wound, the one he had inflicted, the one that had made the dragon slayer collapse, but exhaled sharply when he saw the big bare chest which was originally covered by the bandages. It was built so well, probably a result from endless battle, but for some reason, it also gave some soft vibes. An urge to touch it washed through Tempest and he quickly had to avert his gaze, after how badly the dragon slayer had reacted to getting touched at his hair, Tempest didn't want to know his reaction when he would touch his bare chest. Especially when the latter wasn't asleep.

Tempest face flushed and he felt a certain hotness rise in his head. Oh no, did he found the dragon slayer to be hot? A guy who could crush him easily with his size and in fact did crush him several times in a fight to the death? Tempest could barely believe this and just muttered “I have to get out of here.”, before rushing out of the room, the hotness in his head feeling like it would spill out any moment. Outside of the tomb he removed his helmet, put his hand against his nose and saw the blood dripping on his gauntlet.

“Oh great.”, Tempest said, leaning against the wall, fumbling for his Estus to take care of his nosebleed. “He doesn't even like you, you fool, and you already are attracted to him...” Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/183652108349/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-5-fandom-dark

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #chosen undead #chosen undead oc #dark sun gwyndolin #orndead kinda #littlewritesstuff

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kieranoruadhain · 7 years

Text

Awakening (Continued)

Short story WIP. Mature content warning. Parts 1-3: http://khyranoisin.tumblr.com/post/166063662238/awakening

four Months of routine came and went. No matter how hard or how long he was drilled for, Kyrahn was not a healer. Day in and day out, he failed. Any burst of Light that came forth in his hands always, always burned whatever it touched. He wasn’t sure if he would ever learn. Some days, he wondered why he was even here. He didn’t need to graduate, like some of the other students did at the behest of family, honor or country. He could just pack up and leave, if he wanted to.

But go where?

For some, they were here because they wanted freedom. For others, it meant becoming a ranking medic in the Stormwind army. Some wanted to dedicate their lives to the Light and leave the Abbey as a licensed, freelance healer or preacher. Some, after graduating, might never leave the Abbey at all.

Others were simply here because they had nowhere else to go, and didn’t know what to do with their lives once they left. They knew, though, that whatever was out there must be better than in here. They would equip themselves with skills necessary to survive the world beyond, and leave with a hope that they could forge their life into something greater than what they were given.

Kyrahn was one of those. And that was why he still stayed.

The dreams still plagued him, as well as his friendlessness. Jackie and the others sometimes treated him well, but left him generally alone. The rumors would die down and spark up again, depending on how prominent he made himself during the seminars.

He was not outright mistreated, or hated, and he considered himself fortunate in that fact. But his peers didn’t seem to know how to speak to him, or approach him, because the same was true for him. He was a man of few words, and only bothered speaking if he considered it exceptionally important.

More often than not, he spoke in disagreement.

He’d disagree with his professors and peers on many points, often landing him in philosophical debates on the dichotomy of good and evil, mercy and justice, cause and effect. And the more grey his lessons became, the more uncomfortable he was. In his world of blacks and whites, there was always a shadow of relativity looming over him.

An ultimate truth always remained inches from his grasp.

It was a breezy winter morning and the classroom was so cold, everyone sat huddled on the benches that encircled the lecture hall. Professor Heather paced in her usual manner, though she seemed a bit brisker in her movements today. She was probably trying to keep warm.

“Kyrahn Oisin,” were the first words she spoke.

Kyrahn stiffened where he sat.

“Do you remember, six months ago, when you let captive gnolls free?”

Kyrahn nodded.

“The female one is reported to have attacked a soldier naught several days ago.”

Kyrahn’s eyes widened. He felt the class’s eyes on him. “How did you know it was her?"

“The brand."

Kyrahn felt sick. He sat frozen in silence.

“The winter months have left many gnoll tribes in the area starved. Though the soldier survived, he reported that the gnolls who attacked him were trying to eat him.” Heather continued to pace. “My report states that when he went missing, several soldiers left to search for his patrol. They rescued him and slaughtered the gnolls in the campsite.”

“I knew we should have killed them when we had the chance!” Derick barked. “Someone could’ve been killed, Kyrahn! How could you have lived with that, huh!?”

Kyrahn buried his face in his hands, saying nothing.

“I don’t think he could live with killing a helpless child, either, even if it was a gnoll.” Heather spoke in his defense. “We, as servants of the Light, must face and accept this world of cause and effect. If we free the rabbit from the trap, we rob the fox of its meal. In this world, even our righteousness can be rewarded with agony. Such as the rain and lightning falls on the holy and unholy in equal measure, the consequences of good decisions may lead to bitter ends.”

“If… if that man died. It… w-would have been my fault… wouldn’t it?” Kyrahn said.

“In a way… yes.”

Kyrahn had no arguments that day.

Nor did he remember how he managed to enter the storage room at midnight with a rope in his hands.

He found himself looking up, examining the rafters, tugging a wooden chair behind him. His mind was blank, save for the image of a blood-soaked hallway, the landscape of his only recurring dream.

He didn’t hate himself. His life wasn’t awful. He would even say he enjoyed living, no matter the constant nightmares or the aching in his damaged leg. But he felt guilty for living. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Every day he lived was greeted with an overwhelming sense of shame, as though he was surviving on someone else’s time. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain it to himself.

And maybe it was for the best that he stopped trying.

He looked for a place among the rafters of the storage room to tie the rope. He’d figure out how to prepare the noose later. He finally found a good place- a hole in the wood that seemed strong enough to bear his meager weight. His hands trembled violently as he tried to tie the knot.

Don’t think about it. Just do it.

His hands were shaking too much. He couldn’t even stay properly balanced on the chair he was using to reach the ceiling. His peg-leg wasn’t helping matters.

Just as he was about to fit the rope through the hole, he heard footsteps outside. Every muscle in his body tensed and he yanked the rope free and tossed it as far as he could, where it landed behind some barrels.

The door to the storage room flung open and a whistling cook began to descend the stairs into the cellar. When he saw Kyrahn standing there on his chair, looking like a cornered mouse, he stopped whistling.

“Wot’re you doin’ in ‘ere?”

Kyrahn gaped like a fish out of water, searching for words. “Uh- I. I… w-was… trying to… reach that bread.” He pointed to a shelf conveniently close to where he was standing.

The cook gave him a skeptical look, then shrugged. “I’ll get it for ya, then. Get down from there, eh?”

Kyrahn stopped arguing during his lectures, and the next several weeks had left him more silent than he had ever been. He would not even answer when a peer asked him how he was doing, in that annoyingly casual way people start conversations when they don’t really mean what they’re saying.

Nothing triggered the desire. No particular incident, no particular murmur in the hallways, no particular recollection of a dream he was already so accustomed to. His decision was not fueled by hatred for his own life.

The slow, steady buildup of tension was the only source of his agony, like a droplet of water hitting his forehead in the exact same place for hours, days, months. Each drop carried a thought: "you don't deserve to live." And with each drop, the thought was absorbed deeper and deeper through his skin and skull until it permeated every ounce of his thoughts.

It was hard to concentrate on life when the only thoughts in his head was how to end it. No one usually locked the doors to the infirmary, where the more experienced healers kept first aid and natural remedies for more severe cases. He stole every vial he could find off the shelves, no matter what their labels said. Some were health potions, some pain relievers, some sleeping droughts- others he didn’t care to observe- he took them all. He stuffed his pockets with them and wandered away. Should he go outside? No… too risky. A night watch would notice him. He found himself in a nearby supply closet. He uncorked the vials, one by one, and drank them. All thirty-eight of them.

“I knew he was unhappy, but… this?”

A dull humming filled his ears, ceaseless. Occasionally, a voice broke the lull. His throat burned and scratched. He tried to will his eyelids open, but they wouldn’t budge.

“How we doing?”

“Still has a pulse. The treatment is working.”

Kyrahn’s attention lapsed. He could still hear voices, but they took no form in his mind. The dull humming in his ears droned on until he forgot it was there. An uncomfortable warmth and pressure filled his abdomen and he gave a soft groan.

“Kyrahn.”

Somebody said his name. He ignored it. His attention lapsed again. The warmth and the humming persisted. He might have been sleeping, or dying. Of that, he wasn’t certain. Maybe dying felt a lot like sleeping.

“Kyrahn."

Somebody said his name again. A different voice. Janice. This time, he fought. His eyelids fluttered and opened. Wherever he was, it was bright and the light stung his eyes. He closed them again, but she knew he was awake.

“Can you speak?”

Kyrahn tried to respond. He managed a weak “hello”. His voice sounded like sandpaper. His throat felt like it, too.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for three days. You were on death’s door. You’re very fortunate someone heard you having a seizure in the closet naught a few minutes after you did what you did.”

Kyrahn blinked at Janice’s face, partially to clear his vision, and partially because he could hardly remember what she was talking about.

“I told you if you should remember anything, you needed to speak to me.” Her voice was strained with exhaustion. Kyrahn wasn’t sure if she was upset or annoyed.

“I don’t, though.”

“Then why did you do this?”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “A feeling.”

“What sort of feeling?”

Kyrahn didn’t reply. Janice then spoke.

“What do you remember?”

He still didn’t reply.

“Kyrahn.” Janice said firmly.

He looked up at her.

“Will you tell me what you remember?”

“Nothing. Just a feeling. Like I’m supposed to be dead but I’m not… and it’s unfair.”

The look in Janice’s eyes made Kyrahn uncomfortable. She seemed less upset and more disappointed.

“I did something very bad. Don’t try lying about it. Why else would I have no memories? Why else would I know that I am supposed to die?” Kyrahn asked, though it seemed more like a statement than a question. “Did you do it? Did you wipe my memories?” Janice straightened a little. “No.” He watched her stony face. He wasn’t sure if he believed her.

“It doesn’t matter how you lost your memories. You’re a fresh mind in an old body now. So make something of it.” She said.

“I’ve not a fresh mind."

Janice’s expression hardened again and she straightened in the bedside chair. “You have two options. You can accept that you’re alive, and whatever regret you feel from your past, you can atone for it by doing good deeds and saving people’s lives. Become the greatest healer in Stormwind. Or, you can throw that away and die useless and alone. You won’t be appeasing any gods or souls, and I worry for your afterlife.”

When Kyrahn met her with lingering silence, Janice stood up. “I’ll be checking on you again in a few hours. I hope you’ve made a decision by then. And I hope you’ll make the right one.” five

Two weeks passed. On occasion, a student would shyly visit him- Jackie and a few girls, mostly- but he was left generally alone. He preferred it that way. Everyone in the entire Abbey knew what had happened and none of them said a word about it around him. What was there to say? “Sorry you almost died, glad you’re okay?” As far as he knew, there wasn’t even any whispering about him anymore. That was perhaps the best thing that had come of the whole incident. Apparently the best way to free himself of the rumors and teasing and stares was to nearly die for it. Janice made him promise that he wouldn’t do anything stupid again. She made him vow upon the Light’s name to pursue the healing arts and eventually leave the Abbey a full-fledged healer. She told him it was the sort of thing that would atone for whatever sins his old life bore. And Kyrahn almost believed her, if only he could succeed in doing anything other than destructive magic. He wasn’t sure he would ever succeed. He wasn’t always able to attend lectures or prayers, but he tried his very best when he did. But people kept a close eye on him. His peers, guards, the ranking priests- people were always watching him, as if expecting him to fly off the handle. It made him uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. An exceptionally beautiful and green spring morning greeted the Abbey, and the morning found Kyrahn making his slow way from the early prayers to locate something suitable for breakfast when he was stopped by an odd sight near the entryway. Almost every student in the Abbey was lined up at the massive arched doors of the Abbey entrance. Kyrahn blinked, wondering just what he was missing. He made his way into the entrance hall, and the voice of Professor Heather became clear. “...to put everything you’ve learned into practice tonight. You will be evaluated by High Priestess Laurena herself. It is she who will determine which of you are ready to move up to the more advanced classes at the Stormwind cathedral. Any questions?” A student up front raised her hand. “What happens if we fail?” “‘Fail’ is a bit of an inaccurate term. Priestess Laurena will evaluate the areas in which you are lacking and will recommend that you re-take courses in those areas before accepting to see you again for a re-evaluation.” “So we WOULD get held back, then?” “Well, yes.” There was some fidgeting among the lines of students. As Kyrahn came closer, he heard the professor announce, “Well, let’s be off, then.” They began to exit the front doors, into the startlingly vivid outdoors. Kyrahn squinted in the light, then

he attempted to follow the procession of students. Professor Heather noticed this and stopped at the doors while the rest of the students were still leaving. Her eyes met his and Kyrahn froze. “Yes, Kyrahn?” “I… uh. Aren’t… I supposed to be going?” “Unfortunately not. You were not selected to attend.” There was an uncomfortable silence. Then, Kyrahn asked, “...is it because I missed last session…?” “No, it is because you are not ready. You’re very unwell.” Kyrahn puffed his chest out. “I’m ready.”

The professor’s voice came much more sternly. “No, you are not.” She states. “You almost killed yourself. You can’t cast healing spells. Your mind and your body are too weak.”

Kyrahn’s stiffened shoulders relaxed into a slump. Without another word, he turned, and headed back down the hall towards the dormitories.

Crickets sang their songs at the moon outside Kyrahn’s window. It must have been eleven-o-clock by the time the other men returned to the dormitories, all chattering excitedly about their evaluations. Kyrahn turned to watch the procession enter from his bedside, scanning their faces. When he noticed Jackie bringing up the rear, looking a little bit unhappy, Kyrahn stared at him. He seemed to understand the silent invitation to speak, and he came closer. “Did you fail?” Jackie sighed. “One of the categories, yeah. The, uh, defensive techniques. Shields n’ stuff have never been my strength… I wasn’t really surprised.” Kyrahn nodded. Then, he said suddenly, “I need you to help me get there.” Jackie paused. “Uh… what?” “She wouldn’t take me. Uh, Professor Heather. I want my evaluation, too.” “What, tonight? I’m tired, man- and the night shift will be different there.” “No, this morning. Early. Before anyone else wakes up.” Jackie pressed his lips into a thin line and looked away. “I can’t take you there, Ky. We’ll get in trouble.” “No one will have to know.” “Stormwind’s at least a three hour walk from here. By the time we get back, they’ll wonder where we’ve gone. Breaking curfew and all that…”

Kyrahn sighed and looked away. “Right.” An uncomfortable silence lingered. Jackie broke it. “You’re not going to try to go alone, are you?” Kyrahn didn’t answer. Then, the faintest hint of a smile played at his lips. “You’re crazy! You’ll die! A single wolf will sniff you out and kill you with a bite to your ankles!” “I’m not that weak.” Jackie let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, if you want to be all suicidal again, then do it! I’m tired of worrying about you.” With that, he headed off to his bunk, leaving Kyrahn to ponder in silence.

Morning came quicker than he was ready. Dressed in his best robes, Kyrahn slipped on his shoe, adjusted his peg-leg, picked up his walking stick and headed wearily for the doors. He descended the spiral staircase leading into the main hall, where he examined his environment closely. As usual, there was a night watch at the doorway, but he was quiet, unresponsive, leaning against the wall with his head against it. Kyrahn wondered if he was asleep. He snuck across the threshold and reached the heavy doorway. The night watchman didn’t even budge. Kyrahn grasped the handle of the door and pulled the latch, pushing it open. The creaking seemed all too loud, echoing through the hall. The guard against the wall muttered, but did not move. Kyrahn drew in a deep breath and escaped into the night air. He stayed off the road, in fear of patrols finding him. He slipped between the trees, heading for the walls which kept the Abbey secluded from the rest of Elwynn. When he saw the distant flickering of a torch, he stayed in the shadows until the patrol passed, before he continued on. However, just as he reached the walls, he heard a sharp whisper from behind him. He stiffened. “Ky!” He whirled around, catching sight of a familiar young, blond-headed man weaving between the trees. “Don’t forget me.” He said with a cheeky grin

#tw:suicide mention #prose #writing #wowau

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