Another Story Blog

[windigos2]

Lazy Sunday

Verse: Modern Characters: Naroel, Kynae Words count: 307

Sundays were lazy days. Naroel wasn’t one to wake up late on any other day but the holy one. He was usually up by six and ready to go on his day by seven, but right now it was way past nine and he was still relaxing in his bed.

The same could be said about Kynae, in fact. Although the woman was a lot lazier than her lover on the usual, she was pushing it far on Sundays. Most of the time, Naroel wouldn’t see her at all until the beginning of the afternoon, but today was different. He was going to get an upset young lady at him, but he didn’t feel like spending the morning alone.

It was only light kisses. Soft and chaste embraces, running fingers in her hair and on her shoulder. The young woman was wiggling and groaning in her sleep at first, but it soon turned into more audible complaints.

“Naroel, please, you’re itchy.”

Her teacher muffled a laughter as he stopped her from rolling away. He purposefully rubbed his unkept cheeks on her skin, causing Kynae to shift beside him until she found herself slipping under his body weight.

“Stop iiit!” she whined, shoving her hand in his face in an attempt to keep him away. “It’s itchy, go shave or something, good lord.”

Naroel shook his head, rubbing his jaw some more on her cheek. “Shower first.”

“Well go then, jesus.”

A grin grew on the man’s lips, and Kynae barely had time to react before being lifted up the bed. She screeched in surprise, waggling her legs as she wrapped an arm around her lover’s neck. Naroel laughed, ignoring her complaining. Yes, she wasn’t much for taking showers so early in the morning, but he was confident he could make her enjoy it at least this once.

[windigos2]

The Wendigo - Part One

Verse: the dumb one Characters: Ashlay, Thaddeus Words count: 767

It was an old house: the kind you would expect to see in some horror, supernatural movie full of ghosts and possessed little girls. It was hard to believe anyone could live in it, which probably was the reason why no one ever inspected it. Ashlay could recall an old news article from years ago bringing it up, saying how it should be put down and replaced to bring up the area’s worth. But the idea was left in the dark, and here we were today.

A man died in the creepy-ass hunted manor.

Not that the police were aware of it. Hunters usually were lone wolves and avoided any contact with others. A life spent chasing demons and evil creatures would do that: sooner or later you realise that anyone, even yourself, can be more than what it seems.

Ashlay wasn’t too keen on taking up this task: mysterious and quiet houses weren’t his forte, but the same could be said about refusing a friend’s call for help.

“We were supposed to meet up tonight, but he never showed up,” Rasul had told him over the phone. “Said he had a little business to deal with at the old house close to his place, but obviously it was a bigger deal than he expected.”

The hunter had sighed, “Why aren’t you taking care of it then?”

“You know I don’t deal with non-demon stuff.”

How Rasul could tell it was or wasn’t hellish creatures has always been a mystery, but Ashlay learned not to doubt it. Not even once has he been wrong. And has he said, no matter how good the exorcist was at destroying demons, he didn’t even seem to have interest in other supernatural entities.

A loud thud was heard when Ashlay closed the trunk of the car, which probably was what indicated his presence. When he saw the house’s door fly open, his first reaction was the draw out his pistol, ready to shoot. But he lowered it slightly when he realized who was standing on the porch.

He moved a little closer, still ready to react if this was some sort of trap, but he couldn’t find in himself to threaten two little girls. Although trying to seem menacing, the two red-headed, freckled-faced young teenagers seemed frightened and not quite menacing.

“D-Don’t move!” The short-haired one shouted, her voice shaking. “We know who you are!”

“You’re not gonna hurt Daddy!”

Ashlay stopped walking, but from where he was, he could clearly see their face. Paired with the matching voices, the hunter sworn they were twins.

“Don’t worry,” Ashlay took out his most reassuring voice, hoping it would help. “I’m here to help, I’m not going to hurt your Dad.”

“Stop lying! You look like one of them!”

The hunter swore under his breath. Of course a tattooed, scarred old man holding a gun wouldn’t be any reassuring to some kids who just met a freaking scary creature from a horror movie. But he had to find a way.

“My name’s Ashlay,” he said, tucking his pistol in his pocket. “I’m a hunter. I deal with the things like what attacked your Dad. I can help him.”

“He doesn’t need help! He’s fine!” One screamed.

“He did it because he had no other choice!” The other followed.

“Leave us alone, okay?”

“We don’t need you!”

And they went on, saying how they didn’t need anyone. That they were fine. That it wasn’t ‘his’ fault. And Ashlay wasn’t quite sure what to think, it was all so confusing. But when he saw a silhouette behind the girls, he felt an urge run through his vein, and shouted at them to run, drawing up his gun. Whatever attacked Rasul’s contact, it wasn’t going to spare the kids.

“Don’t you even think about hurting them.” The voice was otherworldly, loud but quiet. Ashlay watched as the shadow became clearer, shifting from a slender, horned beast to something more human. He didn’t lower his guard, however, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of fear within the young twins.

The creature walked to the porch, holding his hands up in a sign on resignation. Ashlay was surprised to see that despite the blood on his face and chest, the emotion on this thing’s face was… soft. Gentle. Sad and worried, even.

“Please,” the voice was rough in sound, but calm and nice in tone. “Do what you must, but don’t leave the girls alone. They need someone to watch over them.”

And that’s when the reality hit him.

Yeah, he was going to need some help.