#witchermonstermayhemday27

[astaldis]

The dark things that wait in that house - Chapter 3: Burn, Doppler, Burn

Chapters: 3/3

Rating: Mature, Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Character: Witcher Cahir

Summary: On the way back to Kaer Morhen after his first monster hunt alone, Cahir helps a woman in distress. But is she really who she appears to be?

The lantern is still burning on the other side of the cellar when he comes to. Cahir groans, opens his eyes and tries to move. Damn, something heavy is lying all across him. Everything is wet and sticky. And hurts. A lot. Like he has been trampled by a horse, or worse, a fucking elephant. Whose feet are still planted firmly on top of his prone body, pinning him to the ground. He groans again. What the fuck happened? The air reeks with the strong smell of cheap alcohol mixed with a strange, disgustingly sweet note of something he cannot pinpoint. He strains his swimming head. Right, the doppler. He killed him, didn't he? With his silver knife. And then - damn, the shelf. And the glass jars with the floating body parts. Shit, that is what the sweetish smell comes from. He gags, bile rising to his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he needs to get out of here. But how? 

Continue reading on Ao3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46558561/chapters/117343492

@witchermonstermayhem

[astaldis]

The dark things that wait in that house - Chapter 2: Remember me I ask

@witchermonstermayhem​

Chapters: 2/3

Rating: Mature, Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen 

Character: Witcher Cahir

Summary: On the way back to Kaer Morhen after his first monster hunt alone, Cahir helps a woman in distress. But is she really who she appears to be?

He hits the ground feet first. The fall is hard, but not deep. Reflexively Cahir rolls into it, easily absorbing the shock and using the momentum to carry him back up onto his feet. Nothing hurt. That is something. Far better than a sprained or broken ankle or leg. He looks around in the near darkness that is scarcely illuminated by the faint shine of the candles from the room above. It seems he is in a huge, empty cellar. The opening is too high up for him to reach. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He starts to curse under his breath. A trap after all, damn it, and damn him for his stupidity. How did he not notice the trapdoor? Well, it was hidden effectively under the rug. Nevertheless, he ought to have sensed something fishy and checked before walking onto it. Hell, but how could he? Everything, the house, the woman, the whole scenario appeared to be so inconspicuous, plausible beyond any doubt. Nothing at all hinting at anything out of the ordinary. Damn, and his first hunt without Geralt went so well. Now Cahir wishes he had not insisted on going alone. Too late for regrets. He has stupidly - and quite literally - fallen into the woman's trap. Which leaves the one big question: What the hell this is supposed to mean?

Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46558561/chapters/117257698