It's late at night, almost two am. The smell of oil fills the lamp lit bedroom, the only sound is of steel sliding against cloth. Myra is sat at her desk, a small mountain of knives in front of her.
She works methodically - oil, wipe, sharpen, test. The rhythm is soothing, something that calmed her restlessness when her mind couldn't.
Her purple hair is tied back into a neat bun. Next to her little work station was a pile of used makeup wipes in front of a small, desktop mirror. On the opposite side, a gold coin and a matchbox-both with intricate etchings-placed on top of a hardcover book she'd been slowly reading in her free time.
Myra picks up the knife she's working on and runs her finger along the blade edge, just enough to sting.
"Still too dull," she murmurs. She had liked this knife, it was a shame to throw it away. It was one of the first ones she'd gotten from Bird when they started doing work together. A peace treaty, of sorts.
She leans back, rubbing her scarred hands on the dirty cloth. Laughter echoes from the common room, probably Laura or Piper. It made her chest ache.
Her gaze floats to the matchbox and coin. Both inscribed with the emblem of the mafia she'd once sworn her loyalty to. The matchbox is open, and she stares at the burned black stems inside. She placed a burnt match inside every time she felt regret for a kill.
A total of twelve burnt matches laid inside the box.
"You're not there anymore," she says firmly to herself. She can feel her heartbeat pick up. "Stay here, stay here."
The words never stick. But the laughter might. Myra sets the cloth down and heads for the door.
Hmm gonna throw Mistaken for Couple + Sleep intimacy Zakkura your way for whenever you might want to play with it. :3 (Also possibly revealing my secret identity with this prompt lol)
Oooooooo! Delicious lil combo indeed.
(also sorry. it’s me. of course this turned into basically a mini-ficlet on it’s own lol)
Hmm...okay. Imma be a basic, trope-y bich then lol. Scenario I’d probably play with in a canon-ish setting would be Cadet!Cloud and Zack kinda bumping into each a couple times- maybe brief mission overlaps or something after Modeoheim? And since they’d hit it off so quick that just continues. And of course people take notice. For one thing it’s weird for a First Class to be hanging around and all. And sure Zack’s got a reputation of being pretty chill and outgoing. What surprises the other Cadets is Cloud. Because Strife’s always been stand-offish and stuff.
So of course the rumours start flying. And there’s the mix of usual nasty ones “Sleeping with Fair to climb the ladder.” ect. But there’s also some squad-mates of Cloud’s who don’t think that’d really be the case. Maybe there’s something more genuine there- though it’s still a bad idea considering Zack’s basically one of their CO’s.
So one mission comes along and Zack kinda meets up with the tail end of this little sortie that the cadets were off training in. It runs later than they planned so they all just decide to camp it out and head back to HQ the next morning. Being the country boys they are- and with that ‘weird’ chemistry Cloud and Zack are pretty quick to get things organized and get a legit pretty cozy camp.
Only a sliiiight problem in that they don’t actually have enough space in the trooper tent. Meant for a four man squad, not five. So of course, SOLIDER Fair slings his arm around Cloud’s shoulders and says, “Then I guess this guy’s bunking with me.” since Zack’s been packing his own small tent for his mission. Cloud flails and blushes a bit. “O-oh. No I can do watch duty.”
Zack just rolls his eyes and jostles the blond. Puts on his friendly ‘commander’ voice. “We’ll do it in shifts Cadet. Just like always.” So they work out a quick schedule. Couple hours each so they can all get some rest after their busy training. Cloud’s got first shift since he ‘volunteered’. Zack takes the last one- because he’s slightly evil and loves being the one to wake up/break down camp.
Of course once they turn in, Zack isn’t really tired- always too much energy- so he wanders over to keep Cloud company. He’s sitting a way off from the camp. Away from the fire they decided to keep burning. Tends to help deter monsters anyway. Zack nudges Cloud with a knee as he comes up behind him.
“Aren’t you cold man?” He asks. Eyeing the wind tugging at the cadet’s clothes. Cloud shakes his head. Something almost wistful on his face.
“This is nothing compared to home.”
“Nibelheim right? That’s out west ain’t it?”
“Mm.”
They shoot the shit for a while, before Cloud gets a little flustered. Tells Zack he should rest since he’s waking up the earliest. And Cloud needs to focus on his job. So Zack puts on a little show of stretching and yawning- and NO. Cloud is NOT staring. He’s keeping WATCH.
Eventually Cloud gets tapped to head to bed. Hesitates for like an HOUR outside the tent. Or at least that’s how it feels like to Zack who of course isn’t sleeping. Scares the living day lights outta Cloud when he finally scoots over and tugs open the flap. Grinning up at the cadet, one eyebrow raised.
“You coming?”
Cloud shuffles in obediently, takes another age getting outta his boots, gloves combat gear. Just leave him in those baggy navy fatigues. The space is still pretty small, but Zack figures it’ll be fine. Cloud isn’t exactly a big person. (not that he says that. Out loud.).
Eventually Zack whines at him enough to get the other settled down anyway. The bedrolls really aren’t the most comfy thing, but they’d found pretty even patches of ground to set up their tents over so it could definitely be worse. Zack wiggles his closer to Cloud’s when the other very, very stubbornly won’t move himself. Logically it’ll keep them warmer and Cloud’s gotta be at least a little cold from watch right? Just makes sense. They tussle a bit, before Zack actually gets Cloud to relax again. Even crack a smile and it makes Zack’s chest feel warm. Cloud’s the first one yawning. Long, very busy day and he doesn’t have the same ridiculous energy as a SOLIDER (pointed look at Zack.) So Zack quite bugging him- as much- and they both settle in. Can hear the distant crackle of the fire and the two squadmates talking quietly outside. Thanks to his enhancements he catches little snippets of their conversation on the wind.
It surprises him a bit. Hearing people speculating him and Cloud are a ‘thing’. He shrugs it off more or less because he’s been around enough to realize Cloud’s kinda isolated. Honestly he feels bad for the people who don’t give the blond a chance. They’re missing out. Bit time, in Zack’s opinion. Cuz Cloud’s nice. And smart. And honestly just fun.
Warm too, now that the night time chill’s starting to fade from his skin. Zack snuggles up closer to soak some of it in and share his own. Habbit. Jungle kid after all. Prefers the heat to the cold any day.
He’s not really tired, not yet, still got that vague adrenaline pumping through his veins. Always kinda is. But there’s something kinda...mellowing about Cloud. Gives him something to focus on other than that constant itch to ‘get up, move, do something’. It’s nice. And pretty cute how Cloud’s hair falls in his face when he shifts. Can tell the other’s drifted off for real now. All those senseless little twitches and sounds. Used to freak Zack out a little bit when he first got enhanced. How he could catch the rhythm of someone’s heartbeat if he tried. But Cloud’s is nice.
Zack wasn’t really expecting to sleep that night. Usually has a tough time of it when he gets sent on missions that are way too easy. Takes a lot to tucker him out. But the next thing he knows he’s catching a voice. Snapping out of sleep. Something kinda soft brushing his face. Tickles a bit.
“U-uh. Sir?”
Hm. Cadet sounds weird. Almost nervous but Zack’s used to that. People act odd around him. SOLIDER status and all. Even Cloud gets kinda jumpy about it sometimes. But not as often as others.
“It’s nearly four a.m. Sir.”
“Oh right. Thanks. Go catch a few winks. We’ll be oughta here before long.”
“Sir!”
The tent closes again in a faint rush of chilly air and Zack yawns.
Gets a mouthful of hair for his efforts and sputters a bit. Blinks open and.
Oh.
Huh. Well that’d explain the extra warmth. He’s honestly not sure from the tangle their in if he’d moved in the night or if it’d been Cloud. Maybe a collaborative effort. But Cloud’s all tucked up against his front. One slender hand curled in the front of Zack’s heavy shirt. Zack’s got Cloud all wrapped up in a mix of their bedding and his arms. He’s done that since he was a kid. Grabbin’ up pillows and stuff to cuddle.
He thinks he prefers having someone to snuggle up with instead.
It’s super dark out. That weird hour before the sun starts to come up. Still enough to make out that funny little wrinkle of Cloud’s nose as the other grumbles in his sleep. Zack chuckles, leans back a bit so he doesn’t end up with another mouth of hair.
“You’re okay Spike. Get some more sleep.”
Takes a bit of careful shifting and wiggling to get them somewhat untangled. Doesn’t really succeed in keeping Cloud asleep either. Blue, blue eyes blinking open heavily. Makes a little mumble that could be Zack’s name. All confused and tired. Makes the SOLIDER chuckle again.
“At ease.” He says with a grin. Maybe a bit softer than his usual. If Cloud was like, actually awake, he’d grumble at Zack for real. Running joke with them. Started the first time Cloud thought he had to be all ‘formal’ and stuff around base. Dumbass.
Trying to condense down how many works I have on the masterlist, but that means longer multiple scene posts. Do y'all prefer more shorter snippet posts, or fewer posts with longer/more scenes?
Masterlist
~~~
“I’ve been out of the game too long.” Myra slumps in the passenger seat of the car, rubbing her head. “I’d forgotten how utterly useless informants are.”
Harriet hums from the backseat. She’s got her laptop open, the soft glow illuminating her face. Milo is sitting on the opposite side in the dark, staring out the window.
Bird has her gaze fixed on the road. Most roads would be empty at this hour of the night, but there was still a good amount of traffic around here. Most of the clubs in this area were owned by the Torchlights, a cell notorious for holding the most egregious parties behind the club curtains at all hours of every day.
“He knows who we’re looking for,” Bird mutters. “He said she wants us to ‘figure it out for ourselves’. The fake-out said something similar at the Blood Jacker’s pit.”
“Yeah, but who is she?” Myra grumbles. She pulls her mask down and frowns at Bird. “After that letter and the dumb informant, it’s obvious-”
Myra’s complaints are interrupted by the ringing of a phone. Bird picks it up and glances at it. It’s not their personal phones, but the encrypted one.
Unknown Number
“Hare, track it?” Bird says as she swipes answer. Only a very few people outside of the team had the encrypted number, and they were all saved in the phone.
The line is silent at first. The car waits in anticipatory silence. Then, just as Bird moves her thumb to the end call button, there’s static.
The sound of a crowd builds like a steady wave.
Cheering, roaring, chanting, voices echoing like a thousand feet marching.
Trial of blood! Trial of blood! Trial of blood!
The sounds grows and grows until it’s almost unbearable. West and Myra have their hands clasped over their ears. Harriet is frantically typing, trying to push through the sound. Bird pulls the car over into a parking lot and stares at the phone in disbelief.
Her hands are tight around the wheel, but her palms are slick with sweat. Trial of Blood. The same trial the informant had mentioned? Something else?
The line goes dead, and the car is left in ear-ringing silence. Only the low growl of the car engine and the occasional passing of traffic.
“Message received,” Milo says dryly. Bird can hear his foot tapping against the mat, contrasting the unbothered expression she sees in the mirror.
Bird drops the phone into the cupholder and leans her head back against the head rest. Harriet is still typing in the back. The sound of the keyboard felt too loud, now.
Harriet’s typing is sharp and fast, but it’s only a moment before she slams the laptop shut with a huff of frustration. “That shouldn’t be possible. No one should be able to cut us off, not like that.”
The leader pushes the phone down and closes the cupholder, like that would cut off the lingering weight of the call.
Myra turns in her seat to look at her. “But someone did. And we don’t know who.” She rubs her forehead harder, like the sound had burrowed itself into her brain.
Bird puts the car back in gear and makes the turn onto the main road. Her chest is tight, the city lights ahead hazy in the windshield. Whoever she was, she knew their number. Their signals. Potentially their names, if she wanted.
This was someone more unpredictable and dangerous than anyone Bird had faced with the team yet.
~~~
“I’m just saying-”
“-You’ve been ‘just saying’ for the past hour,” Myra snaps. “We get it!”
Bird’s eyelid is twitching. The tension in the room is thick, like something lodged deep in the throat. She can hear the eye roll Laura gives Myra.
She rolls her shoulders, before turning to face the room.
“Alright, let’s just start over,” she says, waving her hand. A couple people mutter protests, but no one speaks up to be heard. “We’re getting nowhere with this. Let’s talk about the phone call.”
“Talk?” Jake asks. He leans forward, arms folded tight across his chest. “Bird, that was a direct threat. They know our numbers, how to get past our encryption. Maybe even our location. We should be moving bases tonight.”
“Paranoid much?” Milo drawls, slouched so far down in his chair he looks boneless. “It was noise and theater. Scare tactics. Relax.”
Ridge sets his elbow on the table and leans his head into his hand. “You can never be too paranoid, Milo. I can’t tell you how many paranoid people used to walk into my hospital because they felt the smallest bit of pain, and found out something major was wrong with them.”
Milo shoots a glare across the table, but a few are nodding in silent agreement.
Bird sets both hands on the table and purses her lips. She glances around the room. Maybe it was a smart idea to move bases tonight, but to where? They didn’t have any sort of backups available. And moving would leave them vulnerable, anyways.
Piper, who’s perched on the edge of her chair, raises her hand. “Sorry if I’m like, the only one not following here, but what trial? Like, a pit fight? A test? Are we the trial?”
The room goes still at that. Only Harriet continues without pause. She’s got an earbud in and hasn’t said anything the entire meeting, Bird isn’t sure if she’s even listening or not.
“Good question,” Harriet replies. Her reading glasses reflect a dozen open tabs. “I’ve been running cross-checks since I got the signal un-jammed. There are whispers in older Blood Jacker chatter. Phrases like ‘champions of blood’ and ‘witch trials’. Always tied to Red Ring pit fights.”
Bird doesn’t like the sound of any of it. Piper made a good point. They very well could be the trial. The phone call had seemed like a summons, of sorts. Myra had taken the letter-the invitation, as it was described-and it had only been a day before they got the phone call.
Raya picks up a pen and taps it on the notebook in front of her. “It’s like pouring boiling water down an ant hill,” she says softly. “They’re trying to put pressure on us and flush us out. I think we should stay, for the time being.”
“I agree,” Myra says with a nod. “But we should probably have a backup ready, just in case. Anyone opposed?”
No one speaks up. Even Jake seems somewhat agreeable with the decision. Bird looks over at a map of the city hung on the wall.
Every spot that was a known pit was marked with a red pin. Clubs were marked with blue, gang and cell territories were circled and marked in black pen. There’s still a corner of the map unmarked, the top right. They hadn’t had time to send a recon team out there yet, as it was fenced off and heavily guarded from every angle.
“I just think,” Nate begins, pulling her from her thoughts, “That if we want to find anything, we outta get our hands dirty.”
“He’s got a point,” Laura says over the sighs and groans. “To know how the pits work, we gotta be in the pits.”
Will shakes his head quickly. “Nope. Absolutely not. You want a big red target on your back, that’s how you get one.”
Nate punches his hand into his fist, grinning. “You just have no love for the game, Willy.”
“I want to be on the front lines as much as the rest of you,” Jake growls, “But even I don’t agree with joining the pits. We’d be stooping to their level.”
The room splits in two. Nate leans forward, elbows on his knees, practically vibrating with the idea. Laura mirrors him, that wild light in her eyes. On the other side, Will’s jaw is locked, his arms crossed like stone, while Jake looms in the middle, caught between the fire and the frost.
Bird pulls her chair over and sits down. Sometimes, it was better to let the wick burn a bit before snuffing it out. Something productive usually came out of it, if you knew how to listen.
Ridge speaks up again. “The pits will chew you up. We’ve seen enough bodies to prove it.”
“Yeah, yeah, doom and gloom,” Piper says, propping her feet up on the table. “But admit it—you’re all a little curious. What’re they hiding down there that we haven’t already seen?”
Harriet doesn’t look up from her laptop. “Statistically speaking, you’d have a better chance of surviving a plane crash than lasting in a pit fight. I’m not recommending it.”
“Not recommending?” Nate smirks. “So you’re not saying no.”
Bird’s fingers drum against the armrest of her chair, a steady rhythm. When the bickering reaches its loudest point, she stands once again.
“We’re not stepping into the pits.” Her voice cuts through everything, calm but firm. “Not yet. If this mystery person wants blood, she’s not getting ours. We play smarter than that.”
The silence that follows is thick—half frustrated, half relieved. No one argues, but she knows better by now than to not expect someone to follow up this meeting with a stupid decision.
Whumptober day threeee. Tbf I'm only three days behind. Enjoyyyy
Masterlist
~~~
The power had gone out hours ago, and Harriet still hasn’t fixed it. Not because she couldn’t, but because she’d been asked not to.
The base is lit only by candlelight now, small flickers of gold scattered across tables and windowsills. The torrent thunderstorm outside had slowed to a soft patter against the roof. The city hums faintly beyond their walls. But in here, it’s still.
Raya is showing Piper and Laura how to make bracelets with colorful string. Jake, Nate, and Will are sat in a half-circle on the carpet, methodically cleaning weapons and gear. Milo is deep in a game of chess with Ridge, neither have said a word in an hour.
Bird has her back against the bottom half of the couch. The floor had long since become uncomfortable beneath her, but she didn’t dare move. Myra leg is softly brushing against her shoulder—she’s relaxed on the couch—reading the book Bird had gifted her months ago.
Even the three techs are strangely quiet, she’d expected Harriet’s fingers to start itching around thirty to forty minutes following the power outage, but she’d simply shrugged and put an earbud in after Bird asked her to hold off on fixing the power.
Now, West and Cane are silently tinkering at the center table, Harriet has her head face down on the table with her hand on Cane’s leg.
She can feel the silent tension radiating from the game of chess, mixing with the chilled vibes radiating from the rest of the room. This is nice, Bird could absolutely get used to this. She hated the rain usually, but now it felt like it had momentarily lifted a weight from her shoulders.
At some point, she isn’t sure when, Will and Raya—in some strange silent unison—get up and leave the room. They’re back only minutes later with mugs, coffee, tea, and warm muffins.
Bird doesn’t ask how they managed to heat up everything with no power, she only takes a blueberry muffin and cup of coffee with a whispered thank you. Similar murmurs of thanks echo around the room as the treats and drinks are passed around.
“Kinda feels like the end of the world,” Laura laughs, her voice dampened.
“That’s what happens when you’re not used to the quiet,” Harriet replies, head now lifted.
Bird takes a grateful bite of the muffin. She looks around the room, she’s surrounded by people she considered more than just her team, acquaintances, or even just friends. These were people she’d bled beside, argued with, and nearly lost. Faces lit by gold flames and darkened by the shadows.
Jake catches her eye and gives her a small nod. Myra nudges her with her leg in acknowledgement, like she knew what Bird was thinking through.
The candles sway gently, and for a fleeting moment, the world outside could’ve disappeared and none of them would have noticed. Bird certainly wouldn’t care.
“Shit, Hero,” Villain chuckled, strolling into the room with an infuriating casualness. Even to themself. “We really need to stop finding each other like this.”
Hero didn’t bother to mutter a reply, just grumbled incoherently and closed their eyes.
“Aw, no love for your rescuer?” Villain smirked, crouching down beside where the Hero was sprawled out on the rickety old couch. The smirk faded as they realized how much blood there was in Hero’s hair and underneath them.
They muttered a curse and spun around, snapping orders at the few henchmen that had followed their boss inside the abandoned mansion. The scrambled to obey, quickly returning with the requested items.
The villain started by having one of their men help the hero sit up. The Hero cursed them out the entire time, but didn’t for once try fighting back or resisting. They knew the drill by now.
Villain pressed the wet cloth to the back of the hero’s head, holding it there for a minute. When they pulled it back, it was soaked. And not with water.
Hero drifted in and out of consciousness as Villain messed with the first aid kit, content to let the Villain save their life again without their usual back talk. Though, Villain would have given anything to hear Hero talk back in that moment. To hear the hero reassure them that they were ok and didn’t need the Villain’s pathetic help.
“Alright, let’s get you back to my place and into the med bay,” Villain murmured after a while, finally content with their practiced cleaning and bandaging work. They wrapped their arms around the hero in a hug of sorts and pulled them up as soon as they felt Hero wrap their legs tightly around Villain’s waist.
“I don’t think they like me very much over there,” Hero drawled.
Villain chuckled once again and shook their head. “Good, because I don’t like you over there very much either.”
Hero rested their head on Villain’s shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.
“My head hurts.”
“Good. God, you’re an idiot.”
“Me?” Hero exclaimed, breaking out into a giggling fit. “Neeeverrr.”
Villain smiled fondly, shaking their head softly. “Always, love. Always.”
Villain had been looking for two years, to no avail. Every turn led to a dead end in the maze Supervillain created, every tunnel dug led to nothing but darkness on the other side.
Until one day, Supervillain made a critical error.
Villain, their sidekick, and Hero’s Sidekick were all gathered in the living room where the four all used to live together. Now, it was used more as a base of sorts, a neutral zone.
Villain’s Sidekick had contacted the other two that morning, saying that Supervillain had sent another video of Hero. They had their best hackers working on it as they were sending the message.
Hero’s sidekick paced anxiously as they waited for one of the hackers, any of the hackers, to return. They didn’t care who, or what news they held, they just needed something to break the suffocating silence.
They made sure to keep their distance from the two villains, shooting them a wary glance every once in a while. Hero’s Sidekick hadn’t spoken to either of the people they used to once be so close to, used to trust everything with, in over a year. They’d all gone their separate ways a year after Hero had been captured, unable to keep the peace that had once been carefully maintained by Hero.
“HSidekick, you have to relax,” Villain said gently, moving to stand. They had a sympathetic look on their face. HSidekick had really been neglecting themself lately, they could tell. Their hair was unwashed and thrown into a messy bun, they still had their pajamas on, and dark circles under their eyes.
“Don’t come near me,” the sidekick growled, taking a step back. “I don’t care how close we used to be, you two are villains.”
Villain glanced at their own sidekick, who had an expression that one would carry after being slapped. Villain held up both hands and relaxed into the couch. “Easy. Remember why we’re all here. For Hero.”
At the mention of their mentor, HSidekick broke down. They fell to the floor, hands tangling in their own hair.
“There’s no point, there’s no point, they’re not coming back,” the young sidekick whispered, tears rolling down their face. “We’ve already tried so many times, there’s no way we’re ever getting them back.”
VSidekick opened their mouth to reply just as their phone buzzed in their pocket. They pulled it out and after a warning look from HSidekick, set the phone on speaker mode and set it down on the coffee table.
“This is VSidekick.”
“Hey VSidekick, this is Hacker. Yeah, I found a code error in the encryption in that video you sent over. It’s a tiny error, only a single letter off, but I can pretty much access any information you could ever want from it. Any specific information you need in particular?”
Both sidekicks eyes shot to the Villain, waiting for them to speak.
“A location, and a name, if possible,” they said eventually, keeping their voice low. VSidekick relayed the information, and the three waited with baited breath as the phone picked up the sound of computer keys typing rapidly.
“90102 Ambrosia Gates, Ambrosa. It’s a townhouse community in Ambrosa’s eastern district. There’s no name attached to the video, but I can see who lives at that particular residence if you’d like.”
VSidekick, forgetting that they were on their phone and not in person, nodded their head eagerly. After a nudge from Villain, they were quick to realize and stutter a confirmation.
More typing, more breath holding, more exchanged looks between Villain and VSidekick that HSidekick couldn’t read.
“Civilian and Civilian 2, a married couple who’s lived there for a year and a half now.”
There was more silence, everyone waiting for someone to speak. Eventually, VSidekick picked up the phone to thank the hacker and discuss ways of payment.
After ten minutes of discussion, the sidekick hung up and pocketed their phone once more.
“We’re gonna get them back, HSidekick,” Villain said quietly, looking at the now hopeful sidekick. “I can’t promise anything, but we’re gonna try.”
hey! can you write on "nightmares" on your prompt thing??
Absolutely! It took me a while to finish cause I was going back and forth on two different endings, but I’m happy with the one I went with and I hope you are too!
Prompt: Nightmares
Fandom: Original Characters
Peace and quiet were never a thing, not for the Hero. Ever since they had left Supervillain, they couldn’t escape the chaos of their world.
They managed to wade it out for close to a year, the endless nightmares and hallucinations. The screaming in their head. At first, they couldn’t figure out why suddenly, the day after they left the villain, no amount of medication, no amount of therapy, could stop the nightmares.
They held out until they started seeing Villain, their new lover, in every dream. In every dream without fail, there would be VIllain, either brutally murdering someone or being brutally murdered.
Their breaking point, really, was a nightmare of Villain coming at them, crazed and possessed, bearing a knife. The hero was backed into a corner, nowhere to go. Then, the knife plunged deep, deep into their chest. What made that nightmare different from every other one was Supervillain.
They were there, they’d never been in Hero’s dreams before, pushing the Villain off and pulling Hero into a warm hug. And everything was quiet during the entirety of that hug.
When the hero awoke from their first quiet dream in a year, they knew what they had to do. They had to find Supervillain.
Once, there was a haunted house by the sea. No one knew where it came from, or where it goes. Every day at exactly eight thirty every evening, it stands up and leaves. It goes moaning and groaning, looking for something. Once, someone tried to answer where the old house goes, and they were never heard from again.
Rumors say that it once was occupied by a lonely old woman, who always went out at the same time every evening looking for other lonely souls like herself to join her at her dinner table. The rumors say that at exactly nine pm, she would return. Sometimes by herself. Most of the time not. No one knew what happened to those who joined her at her table.
Other rumors state that a man and a dog used to live there. The dog was loyal to the man, and the man to the dog. They were never seen without the other. Then, one day, a siren washed ashore. The man grew curious, and despite the dog trying desperately to drag the man away, the man threw away the dog and continued forward. The siren offered the man a sip of poison. No one is sure what happened after the man took the poison, but wails and howls, suspected to be from the dog, were heard for thirty minutes after. Then, without explanation, they were silenced at exactly eight thirty pm.
No one is quite sure what causes the house to leave its lonely position on its cliffside by the sea, but no one questions it. Once, there might have been whispers, but those were silenced. Now, the men just tip their hats and the women wave as the house goes, knowing it would return the next morning, its doors open to welcome the lonely and afraid in.
