#whumpintheforest

[midnighthostifs]

whumptober 16

"How were you able to handle it? It's not like you were a thirdborn, you should have been guaranteed a decent life." You ask from beside her,

Alecto turns to you, her green eyes bearing into your soul, "I don't know that I ever did handle it. I'm just here, and that was there. I try to not think about it so I don't have to feel it."

"Does that do you any good?" It comes as a whisper as you stroke her hands.

"It can't do any worse by me than life already has. The rug is gone, pulled from beneath me long ago. Why should I have to pretend I'm okay with it? Why should I make peace with it? What do the spirits care of my suffering?"

"I care."

Alecto laughs sadly to herself, "I guess you do, but I can't bring myself to think on it long enough to try and make right by it. I don't want to remember… I wish I could simply forget all of it so I wasn't haunted by the fragment that I do have."

[midnighthostifs]

whumptober 15

You aren't able to look across the room, you don't want to see them. You swallow your scream as the pain starts anew. If only you had been smarter, you both would have been safe. He watches from the corner, unable to help you. Bound in a circle, Caius watches as you are tortured.

He can't look away; they won't let him. The only thing that saves you is the fact that you can turn away. That, on top of the physical pain, you don't have to bear the emotional pain. You are so dehydrated that you can't cry anymore, and you think your mouth would tear if you let yourself scream.

"You know, if you scream, we can stop. A little begging can go a long way."

You refuse, you would rather die than let this bastard have everything.

You see the tears falling down Caius's face in a reflection and avert your gaze; you can't do anything to save either of you. You would die here, and hopefully your captor would feel smug and slip up, giving Caius his chance at freedom. You prayed for the comfort the mist would bring you; perhaps in another life, it could have been different.

[midnighthostifs]

whumptober day 12

You never thought this was somewhere you would be. Looking around, you realize that you are surrounded by the shadows. Deep in the fog, you realize now that it was all for nothing. That, despite what was good and what was right, nothing truly mattered as long as they were allowed to continue on.

Alvise

He waited patiently for his love to return to him, his heart beating so fast he feared that it would fail at any moment, and he would never see them returned to him. Caius had said they had to come here, to where the first village fell, for it was sacred to the shadows, the only way, but now he wondered how much truth the statement held. Still, he waited.

[midnighthostifs]

Whumptober 11

His dreams were filled with visions of better times, his mother braiding his older sister's hair, his other sibling running circles around the front room pretending to fight great beasts. Everyone is so happy, he wishes he could go back to this.

On the outside, three people wait and watch, praying that the healing will work. They watch as the wound he hid from them remains red and angry, no matter how many herbs and healing sessions they try, he twists, caught in the grasp of the infection.

As Alder fights for his life, he also fights against his memories as colorful visions of the past fade, and the pain seeps through, everything he pushed down.

His body begins to fight as the unconscious man remembers everyone who is counting on him. Perhaps time can heal the wounds that he cannot face yet.

[midnighthostifs]

Whumptober day 9

It's another deep breath in and out. His skin burned under the light touch of his hand. His muscles felt as if they were being torn. A myriad of poorly treated injuries as he was tossed into the forest outside Elder's Bridge. Alvise bit his lip til it bled, trying not to scream while he applied the salves.

A servant had been kind enough to tuck them into his pockets; he only hoped he was strong enough to survive. He didn't want to live this way. A monstrous appearance, a display of his shame. If the spirits were kind, they would take him in his sleep tonight.

[midnighthostifs]

Whumptober day 7

"Look at me, please, please be alive." Bruised and battered, you can't move or see, but you know that voice, his voice. It hurts everywhere when you are lifted; you float in and out of consciousness. If this is it, then wouldn't it be poetic to die in the arms of the one you loved, even if you hadn't had the chance to say it yet?

It is all dark and dreamless until you awake, and you are sure that you have Amber to thank. As your eyes open, the light burns them, as if offended that you chose to awaken on its watch.

"Alvise?" His name almost gets stuck coming out from how parched you are, looking down, you see him asleep at the edge of the bed. Deciding to not wake him, you try to roll onto your side to get off the opposite side of the bed.

"You're okay?" It's breathless, sleep-ridden, and hopeful. You see something shining in his eyes that makes you melt. He looks like he has been dragged through one plane and back to the next.

"I'm fine, or I will be… how about you?"

He laughs a bit as he starts to cry, "As long as you remain beside me, I will be fine."

[midnighthostifs]

Whumptober day 6?

Trapped like prey in the hunter's net, Alvise struggled against the bonds that held him. Bloody and beaten but not broken, never broken… he wouldn't afford them that satisfaction. His body hung from the wall by chains as he awaited his brother's return for the day.

He wouldn't be broken; he recited everything he knew was true. He thought of her, smiling, waiting for him. At least if this killed him, he would be at her side once more. Beyond a grave, he would search until his soul found hers once again.

[midnighthostifs]

Whumptober 5

It runs through you again, the shaking that you can't escape. It makes your stomach ache and your eyes sting, but you don't know how to stop it from coming. As the days have passed, you have grown to fear your dreams, plagued by visions of death, murder, and loss.

As a child, you once kept a journal of your dreams, hoping it would help you piece together a greater meaning behind your existence… but now you wondered if your only purpose in life was to die. That might be preferable to having to face what lay behind your pillow another night.

You heard a joke pass around about your avoidance, but it felt safer to laugh along than to admit it felt like your heart was trying to tear itself from your chest at the thought of sleep. If you could just have one night of peace, you would trade anything.

You wondered if the others felt this way or if you were alone, if they ever feared something so deeply that they thought it would surely be the end of them. Wondered if something that occurred every day inspired fear in other people the way it did you. The thought passes, trying to figure out when this started, the dread that made your blood run cold, but you would have to figure it out another time, as the horrors were only about to begin again. As you drifted out of consciousness, you thought you felt a tear run down your face.