#august222023

[santana-ravenwood]

August DWC-Day 3-Ominous, Possibility

The air was thick with fog as Santana hunted in the black forest. The trees towered overhead, illuminated only by the bright full moon. A chill is in the air as she walks deeper into the interior. She doesn't even feel the cold as her heart picks up in pace at the thrill of the hunt.

These woods were off-limits to outsiders. Only those brought in for her amusement would be there tonight. Low lives who had done things that true gentlemen and women did not speak of. Her prey.

Tonight though, something was different. The forest was too quiet. Santana could barely even hear the sound of the usual insects and animals. At first, she paid little attention to it, but she realized her sense of direction felt off as well. Had she just walked past that tree just a few minutes ago?

She turned suddenly from right to left, spinning in a circle. She felt like somebody was watching her. She shakes her head, her mind feeling foggy. What is going on? Her mind feels thick like syrup. Something was wrong.

She needed to get out of the woods. She moves forward but staggers. She tries to shift into her raven form but finds she can't. She doesn't panic. At least not yet. She wasn't one to freak out so quickly, but she was beginning to feel very uneasy.

She reached up to the amulet at her neck and noticed it was glowing red. It meant something was wrong, very wrong. It was connected to her sister Lizabeth's bracelet, and they only shone when one of them was in danger. She had a feeling this time it was her.

She staggered forward a few more steps, and the trees around her swam in her view. It didn't make sense. This was her land, her forest, wasn't it? Yet it was clear tonight something was wrong.

Still, she continued to stagger forward, her head dizzy as she moved. Was the fog growing thicker? Or was her mind just playing tricks on her. The mist was now halfway up her legs and swirling with each step. She staggers and grabs a tree nearby to keep herself upright.

She needs more light. She takes a deep breath and tries to conjure some but, with horror, realizes that she can't cast.

Now she was beginning to panic. Her eyes flickered back and forth, wondering what was going on. What is this? This wasn't possible.

Yet it was happening. She tried to think of the events before coming to the forest but now realized that information was hazy. The last thing she remembered was getting into her carriage to take the jaunt to the woods and then being in the forest. The ride was a complete blank.

Suddenly something hits her in the neck. She reaches up and pulls what seems to be a dart from her skin. Immediately the toxin takes effect, and her eyes start to feel heavy. She slips to the forest floor, falling over onto her back and looking up about the time when a shadow bends over her.

Just as Santana is about to pass out, the person speaks. "How does it feel to be the prey, Lady Ravenwood? Don't worry; I don't plan on killing you. Yet."

@daily-writing-challenge

[the-crimson-rose]

August DWC-Day 3-Ominous, Possibility

Elu turned over and then back over, but the nightmare would not go away no matter how much she turned.

The room had grown cold from her stress, and the glass mirror across the room strained as the dream continued, not waking the poor woman but not letting her honestly sleep.

She walked into a dark forest in her dream, no, her nightmare. The night was so dark she could barely see in front of her. No stars or even a moon in the sky, nothing to light her way. Sounds came at her from what seemed every direction, sounding almost like whispers.

She shivers, but not from the cold. She had a way of regulating her temperature, so she rarely got too hot or cold. No, she shivered because something felt wrong as she walked deeper into the forest.

A twig broke behind her, and Elu gasped, stopping to turn, but she could see nothing. She waits several moments before she continues her journey when she thinks she hears heavy breathing. She picks up the pace, almost into a jog, but without seeing where she is going, she felt like she was getting nowhere.

Dense blackness is interrupted by a cackle of laughter. "Where are you going? You can't run from yourself, and yet you keep trying."

NO, Elu thought to herself. It couldn't be. Yet suddenly, she slammed into something, or perhaps someone. A tiny sliver of light appeared in the clearing, illuminating the two figures, and standing across from Elu was somebody she recognized and yet did not.

Herself, and yet she wasn't.

This woman did not share her blonde hair and blue eyes. Her hair was black as night as were her eyes.

She laughs once more. "Thought I was gone, didn't you? But I am never gone. I am you. The version of yourself that you avoid and attempt to conceal from the world. Yet every decision you make lately, you strengthen me."

Elu shakes her head. "No, you aren't real. You are just some manifestation of my guilt, of my failures." She closes her eyes, willing the mirror image of herself to disappear.

In her bed, Elu whimpers in her sleep, her body shivering slightly, mirroring her dream self. The mirror stresses more, and the drinking glass on the side table shatters. No, she whimpers, no.

In her dream, the woman across from her shakes her head. "I once told you I was coming. You want new beginnings. I am going to give you new beginnings. You may pretend otherwise, but we both know who you really are deep down. The darkness within you is growing. You can feel it. You want to let me out, to be free."

Elu shakes her head and closes her eyes again, trying desperately to wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up. She repeats over and over.

Elu is jolted awake as the dark-haired woman laughs once more. Despite the room's cold, her skin had a light sheen. She breathes heavily, her heart racing inside her chest.

A splintering sound can be heard across the room as the mirror cracks down the middle. As her reflection is cast, she sees herself on one side and the dark-haired woman on the other, laughing at her, a whisper in her mind. "Soon."

For years she had been fighting, but even she could feel herself losing the battle. She was tired, and the darkness felt like it were the solution, not the problem. She hated herself for those feelings, those thoughts. Perhaps the woman was right; she should let her be free.

@daily-writing-challenge