#sortaspookychallenge

[forte--exe]

Prompt: Trapped

Someone's not too happy about the role reversal here

[ksmith03]

DAY 14, Warning

I saw this chart of what the hunters would do as a warning and was inspired.

Ryan would totally stab someone as a warning

[gz-missfit]

when the vagabond first joined the crew everyone was creeped out by him because he was this silent killer without a real face so when gavin first was teamed up with the vagabond he couldn't hide the shiver that went through his whole body

(and day 22 I'm working on day 23 right now and it's a piece with multiple characters so excited to see how that turnes out)

[jozzie365]

Day 31: Purgatory

Please forgive me, my mistakes

[ookami-tenshi]

#SortaSpookyChallenge

Day 2 possession

From @rysarts au

[redfire-blackash-whitegold]

Wither (Day 8)

The members of the Fake AH Crew were already dead, they speak in whispers. They have risen again, these rumours say. 

Others say they were never truly alive to begin with, simply puppets being commanded from somewhere else. Maybe a god or a devil, or maybe by many individuals whose capricious desires determined who lived and who died. 

Their flesh was not flesh.

Their breath was not full of air.

They are dead leaves and cold nights.

They are red and orange and black. Like flame.

When they come, the whispers say, there is no salvation. No redemption to be won. No hero in the land of villains. 

Their origin is unknown, but most say that it did exist. That for something to wither it must have had a start. Others say it has always been this way. That gods and kings such as they are can simply exist. That maybe this world was built for them.

Their eyes were not eyes.

Their souls were not like yours was.

They are still withering now.

They are green and dark brown and white. Like rot.

Some say it is them that wish to be redeemed. That there is some crime worse than those which they commit. That something truly monstrous must be done to equal the monstrosity once done.

The rumours do not speak of what sins might have been committed by a god, do not consider the possibilities. That perhaps they are here to erase their mistake. Or created to erase someone else’s mistake.

Their hearts were not hearts

Maybe you deserved what they did to you

They are not lit by the sun

Maybe I did

They are grey and yellow and blue. Like trees.

Most do not want to believe. Most want them to be human. To be vulnerable like us. Maybe they are. Maybe they were.

Because if the FAHC were puppets, beings of wood and sap and bark, then who was pulling the strings? Because if the FAHC are not human then what does that make us? What does it make you now?

Dead leaves wither away.

[marshmarrows]

Day 1 - Trapped

Day one of the SortaSpooky Challenge! (Also on AO3!)

The darkness was suffocating, surrounding him no matter where he turned. Whispers came from the shadows, too quiet to make out. From the distance came the howls of wolves and the snarls of some feral beast. Screams echoed out through the cavern, cries for help and shouts of pain. But nothing was enough to drown out the screams echoing through his own mind. He could never escape the prison of his memories, even as he sat trapped in a more physical jail.

They ran through the halls, twisting and turning, looking for an escape, searching for a way out. But no matter where they turned, they would always meet more paths, more ways to go, more ways to get lost. Footsteps echoed behind them, a constant reminder of fear and danger. They could not stop, no matter how much they longed to. And so they ran, constantly searching for the door.

He stared at the awful blankness surrounding him, wondering if maybe there had been another way, if things could have gone differently. That was all He knew now, hypotheticals and memories. Memories of a different life, memories of long ago, memories of a happier time before existing became torture and life became hell.

They ran and ran, never finding the exit. They ran until they could not run any more. Yet still they tried to find a way out, never succeeding. The footsteps grew closer, that awful shadow growing ever larger with every step. They could never escape it, no matter how hard they tried. One stood tall, facing the shadow as the other looked on, frozen with fear. A scream echoed through the silence, and the shadow left. One remained, petrified with fear and shock as they stared at their companion’s broken body.

He curled in on himself, unable to bear the memories any longer. He had to hide. No, he needed to escape. He needed to free himself from his mind, save himself from the darkness. He needed to flee the endless torture and find peace. He needed… him. Footsteps approached and he flinched, remembering the awful time in that awful place, death constantly following them no matter where they ran.

The survivor wept as they stared into their friend’s blank eyes, knowing they were already gone. They rose after a few minutes, glaring off down the hallway. The shadow had done this, this was all the shadow’s fault. They hadn’t escaped, and now they didn’t want to. The shadow wasn’t chasing them anymore, they were chasing it.

He rose, not entirely sure where he was going. The forest was all around him, yet he barely saw it, his mind only on one thing. He needed freedom, an escape from his mind. He needed a distraction, something to keep his mind occupied. So he walked, wandering aimlessly through the world around him. He wandered to the forest’s edge, reaching a series of tunnels and caves. He stared at them for a moment, remembering the time spent trapped in endless hallways. He paused, and then ventured in.

They caught up to the shadow, desperate to get revenge. They were irrational, they had no weapon, the shadow had all the advantage. Yet still they tried to fight, to destroy the horrific creature. They tried and they failed, their world fading to darkness.

He wandered through the caves, stumbling through the darkness until he reached a cavern.

He looked up, meeting the startled gaze of another.

He gasped as he saw who sat in the cavern.

He gasped as he saw who stood before him.

“Gavin?”

“Michael?”

[forte--exe]

oh heck I'm not doing the days in order oh well I like to live dangerously

the prompt I picked was carving btw