Growing Pains
home sweet home
"Love is an excuse we make for all our bad choices. It's certainly been mine." —John Tyler, Tell Me Your Secrets
A Rustic Wild companion story
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Act I - Rituals
The cabin is haunted.
The being says nothing, it does nothing, except be. But one thing it cannot be is forgotten.
Initially, you thought it might be connected to your dreams, to your gods, but it’s different. No matter how much you beseech them for their guidance, you’ve gotten nothing back. Radio silence. It’s as though something is blocking the signal. Instead, you’re left with this…thing that sucks at you when you can’t keep it back. Not a lack, but a presence of nothing in your chest that yawns wide and deep. A soreness, a sickness, nestled beneath your ribs. You’ll be collapsed by its pull, if you aren’t careful. Your bones will splinter inwards to pierce your tender organs, unable to resist its hunger.
Because this thing lingers in the quiet moments, the long ones during the day when you’re alone, you began to find ways to keep the stillness out, lest it find you. So, you’ve found habits within your confines. Arranging and re-arranging the furniture. Reading and rereading the three shelves of books. Trying out new recipes in the old cookbook.
Your rituals aren’t a perfect solution, though, because the thing creeps in with the rose-dusk of night.
Your heavy little hauntling.
(read more on ao3)
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