Well apparently today is Misaki's canon birthday, crazy how I posted Melting Aches a day before that, and also on trans visibility day. INSANITY, HOW DO THE STARS ALIGHN LIKE THIS.
Hello Killer Chat people! It's been a long long while (over a year, yikes, my bad) but I have finally finally finished the long awaited third Misaki fic. I started working on this massive text on April 18th 2025, and it's gone through about a billion renditions at this point, but I'm very glad and excited to show you all what I've been up to. This has taken too freaking long help me. Funnily enough, this release also coincides with Trans Visibility Day, so yeah, absolutely for me and Misaki. I'm also putting this fic in for the Month of March writing challenge from Rose Rot's discord. Wish me luck, please. :P
Lastly, I heavily recommend you read my other two current Misaki fics first, "It's cold tonight" and "A warm reminder", since these are actually all Misaki fics and are kinda in their own canon? I'm working on it...
By the way, if you wanna chat with me, I'm lemonandturtle (username) and zuluandsalamder (display name) on discord. I also have an ao3!! Check it out! PS: It has the same things as this tho :>
Lol, anyway! Hope you enjoy! XD
(Main viewpoint from the Invincible, Fearless, Sensual, Mysterious, Enchanting, Vigorous, Diligent, Overwhelming, Gorgeous, Passionate, Terrifying, Beautiful, Powerful mind of Misaki Katsuo.)
You shiver, cold sweat dripping off your hands. The cool keys below your fingertips click and clack rhythmically, mimicking your heartbeat. You sigh, weary eyes half closed, head leaning against the chair, arms heavy. Your normally bright and bouncy voice echoes around dully, the dark room encroaching on you as time passes. The blaring light of the screen in front of you bores into your sockets, making you blink uncomfortably. Your feet hang plainly above the floor of your trailer, limp and lifeless. Yawn.Â
âBaby?â Head lurching forward, you startle from the noise, your mouth moving quickly, eyes wide.Â
âMhm?â You reply musingly, thoughts elsewhere.Â
âDo you want to stop? This game isn't going anywhere, we can continue later. I know itâs getting rather late for you.â They swivel their head just out of view, tutting gently at you, eyes slightly furrowed in interest. âAnd, you're really looking quite tired⊠Iâd rather not kidnap you into continuing my indulgences. Tonight~" Their words ring out, and as you look back onto your lover's face, switching the window, your jaw puts on a twitching smile.
âNOo! No, nonono, I am one thouussound percent awake, trust me. Stupid time differences aint gonna stop me from doin stuff with you! â Listening in, you notice how your words are dry, dead, shallow, and as your brain whirs tiredly, you realise just how fake your voice sounds. âI promiseee!â The time continues to tick from above your head: 3:37 AM.Â
âLook, Iâll be alright for a while longer. Look how focused I am, look at these focused eyes!!â You bulge them forward, opening them as much as they can, before the screen's bright light makes you startle back slightly. Your partner puts on an unimpressed smirk, drooling sadly at your tired face, your drooping eyes. You wince and look away in response, face flushed. âAnd look, I'm only 400 points behind you! Iâm about to win, I swear!â Your hoarse voice stresses, the excuse fluttering past your lips.Â
âYour idea of nearly winning is pitifulâŠâ Feeling the timer tick down in your head, you rush forward, explosions ringing out through your headphones. Turning a corner, you spot another figure, looking directly in the opposite direction to you. You lift the gun. And pull the trigger. Point blank headshot.Â
âOKKKK, wowww. I did not see that freaking coming, how the hell am I supposed to stop that!? I didnât think youâd actually kill me there, I was so locked in andâŠâ A giggle begins to spiral towards you as you look at them, till. Till it speaks to you.
âKill me there.â The figure across from you gives a small smile as they speak but as moments pass, the smile slowly darkens. âKill me.â It seethes inside you. The stare lengthens, the smile slowly becoming less genuine, more tired. More, distraught. It begins to feel like they are no longer looking at you, but through you. "You kill and kill and kill. But it wasnât enough.â It smiles in the back of your mind . Their gaze bores across your being, a frown appearing across that perfect surface, a crack. And you begin to feel that hole form within yourself. You blink.Â
 The emotion you may have felt before is quickly buried by a burning sensation that scrambles itself around the back of your throat before you can even attempt to express any sound. Choking, you rapidly close the game window with a sharp breath, looking down at your hands, which quickly move down to your lap, gaze pinpointed to them. âI remember. I remember their screams. The displaced ichor that you deemed just and fair to pour. It never truly was enough for you. Not until you killed the only one who actually loved youâŠâ Insatiably grasping toward your head, you remove the trapping screams from it, ripping their entrails out of the glowing device and dropping them into the depths. Spreading your fingers out, you shake, jolting your arms up and down as an array of thoughts crash into you. The cluttered room seems to disappear, your hands groping for any remaining foothold. You can almost hear its snarl, watching from the void, which it slithers around in, in purest joy. âWake up from your falsities and do what you do best.â Closing your eyes, you intake the darkness, reaching limbs trying to squander any final escape. âKill.â A single noise reverberates, loud and cutting, guttural and desperate. Your breath.  Â
Love. Oh love. The intense feeling of affection, the invisible connection between things that only the strongest kind of trust and care and want can grow. Love is not always familiar. Nor is it always easy to come by. It takes work, it takes dedication, and it takes having to deal with absolute hellish shit every once in a while. It takes infinite luck. It's the most dangerous thing in this entire reality.Â
But how real is it? Is it something you can feel? Or do you hide behind your own veil of falsities to bear the manipulation and abuse? Do you strangle your misled lover while they gaze longingly at you? Are you really that blind to your own destruction? And can someone, some crazed individual, actually love you?Â
No. No no no no. How can one love a monster? A harbinger of death and ruin? A creature that lurks in the shadows inside story books, and comes to a sticky end in a detective novel? You are the villain. You are the antagonist. You are the scum that society begs to be rid of. Deserving nothing but failure and pain and sadness. An everlasting, endless void of anguish. You have caused such damage, so isnât it about right that it should come back to laugh at you?
They donât love you. They deal with you. They must be, are, horrified by your presence, by what irredeemable actions you have done, willingly and for little reason. For little need. You can't forever spew excuses from your damned vocal cords. You are an aberrated mass of the suffering this world has to endure. Donât hide behind a false jurisdiction of justice or revenge or desperation. Who can love a murderer? You are and always have been the problem.Â
You are the problem. You are the problem. You are the problem. Do the world a single favor, it doesnât care for you. Give it a shred of kindness for once. Your friends donât truly care for you. Not only are you responsible for your own actions, but you are just as responsible for the countless innocents killed that you won't permit true justice for. Who are you to decipher their lives? To judge them in a way that mirrors your exact fears? Their deaths are as much a weight onto you as the killer. You are as much the culprit.Â
Your family doesnât even truly know WHO you are. What youâve done for them, (or you think you have, and not to fulfill your dark desires wiring around within you), the insatiable struggle between you and another soul, is your âwayâ of supporting your loved ones?! Does that not say something about you? How you are roping everyone and anyone into a monetary massacre, unable to tell them how or why. All you want is for them to be happy, yet all you do is the exact antithesis. When will it be ENOUGH. HOW MUCH MORE BLOOD DO YOU HAVE TO SPILL AND GUZZLE UNTIL YOU'RE FED!?Â
They all do not care. They all do not know. They all donât love you. They donât love you. They have never loved you, and they never will.                             Â
I donât love myself.
         Trembling sound. Quiet whisper. âMisaki.â You barely notice the word and donât look up, gripping your hands together in silent fortitude, legs shaking frantically. You try to scramble your hands over those pits of reverberated noise, your mumbles of protest drowned out by the tears twisting across your face. The rushing sensation of blood pours through you, a sporadic beating echoing from within your wavering being. You scrunch your body together, a small molded ball of noise, of quivering sorrow. Of hatred and desperation. Â
The faint noise of harsh breath comes, a fast pace that plummets and climbs in speed. You donât need to open your eyes to know what you will see before you. A skittish gaze, a nervous frown, and the familiar sound of pain and distress. A jittering voice. âI love you.â You stare blankly at the screen through your hands, the world blurry behind your glassy eyes, which presents you with a meek, distraught face staring back on the other side. You note how their eyes widen, their mouth shakes gently, behind a wall of false composure. They look scared. As you stare, only half registering, they finally move their eyes, pinpointing them directly into yours, pupils wide. âPlease donât you ever forget that.â They chew their tongue meekly behind thin trembling lips. âSo, whatâs happening?â Their mellow eyes spin, a white shine reflecting off their irises, black pits scanning across them, like scars. A trickle plummets from them.Â
Protect yourself from the flood, do something before you do another thing which you will regret. Tell them the truth. Tell them the truth. âDid I do something wrong, I-â . They squeak, words which you never want to hear seeping out. Ones of guilt. Ones of knowing. Ones of pity and pain and panic. You won't let this hold you any longer. You gulp down the pain thatâs been squirming in your throat, your hands cold against your cheeks. You swallow again and again, but the sludge stays glued to your mouth, your breath being devoured bit by bit. You donât think again before speaking.
âIâm sorry.â Your voice cracks open, the whimper only barely registering to your own ears.Â
âIâm sorry.â Within moments you crumple, shimmery tears flaking across your dishevelled features. Head dipping, you exhale, your breath juddering unevenly. Repeat it till you canât feel anything. Repeat it till you rot.Â
 Placing your skittish attention onto the bright screen, you instinctively notice how they have taken off their headphones as well, the background noise of churning metal trundling past a wall, ricocheting against their wobbling voice. Their room, warm and shone with light, buffers against your flickering eye sockets. They breathe in themselves, seemingly composing a thought, a flicker of dread crossing their eyelids, before they bury it deep down , disappearing just as quickly as you noticed it. âIt's ok. Iâm here. And Iâm not going anywhere.â They hold their elbow in their other hand, balancing it, attempting to look absent minded as they pick through their words. You speak again.
âI donât want to hurt you. I won't. Not again. You donât know me, you, you donât know what Iâve done. So, so, what am I supposed to do? WHAT DO I DO? EVERYTHING SEEMS TO LEAD TO THE SAME ROAD. I just. Look. I, I just canât do this. I wonât let myself do this AGAIN. Iâm supposed to learn from the past, not make the same mistakes.â You choke, hurried lips throwing out a final sound.
âI. Cannot. Do. This.âÂ
        âYou donât need to do anything.â They sigh, their features turning serious. âLook at me.â Removing your sweaty palms from your cold face, you face your entire body toward them, the rise and fall of your chest mellowing out. âWhat do you think that I see? Because I see all that I could ever want and need.â They swallow quietly, their own eyes becoming somewhat watery. âYou will always do and be enough for me. I know that the world is⊠a lot⊠and that youâve had to do things you're not proud of, but you are not to blame for your situation. What you do is difficult, and I know what youâve had to go through, but hey, you're still kicking arenât you?â They look faintly hopeful, tapping each finger rhythmically against their desk.
âNot only that, but really, think about what you have achieved, I cannot even begin to tell you how amazing you truly are. I donât need anything else other than you as you are. I donât care about the risks or what youâve done. We are not in the past Kat. Misaki, nothing ever goes perfectly, but things will get better, and I promise that I'll be with you every step of the way. Iâm yours as much as you're mine, and I wouldn't have it literally any other way.â
They rise to gaze longingly at you, the serious tone slowly slipping away before they speak again. âAnd I promise, you actually sleeping for once is waaaayyy more important to me than another win to my infinite victories over you. Your average win rate is going to plummet to 0% if you continue at this rate dummy, please, go, Iâll still be here tomorrow."
âWell, not when I wake up cause then youâll be asleep stupid. Time diffsâŠâ
âThatâs what you think?! You think sleep is more important to me than being with you??? GASP. I bet you don't even think I love you! Iâm just gonna have to shower you with even more kisses next time I see you just to prove it.â
âWHA- YOU JUST TOLD ME THAT SLEEP WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN STAYING UP WITH YOU. â
âShhh shhhh itâs ok, it's ok.â You both grin, studying each other's profile.
âAnyway, I will totally hold you to that. And well, thanks. For that.â
âAnytime. You know that I am telling you the absolute truth buddy?â
âYeah⊠I knowwww Daaaaaad.â Adjusting your position, you let out a giggle, finally letting that flood water wash that sticky ichor inside your cramped brain, which blossoms it into action at the sound. And as you laugh together, you see that wonderful surface of joy and happiness, the one that is as much yours as theirs. The one youâve cradled and kissed and spent months with. That wonderful face.Â
Hands fidgeting, you place them up to your eyes, rubbing them. God, you're tired. You steady your hands before inhaling deeply and welcoming back your vision with a newfound, quivering calm. You gently lift your gaze back up to the object in front of you, and you already feel slightly warmer at the sight. Brown irises scan your dark ones, and for a moment you feel as if the barrier between you both doesnât exist. You can see the way their figure hugs the fabric around them, the way they tilt their head only slightly to their side, studying your face. They beam at you, eyes bright and lively. Itâs so perfect. After a few moments, both of you catch each other staring, and they break the silence: âSo, ya up to sleepin now?"Â
You look down at the floor of your dwelling, swiveling your field of view around the space as if in deep thought. But truly, the deep tiredness that has etched its way across your shaken body has succeeded in claiming its mark to all of it, and you know that you will succumb to its tempting grasp soon enough. The chair beneath your frame is suddenly cold to touch, the soft, foamed armrests becoming icy under your adjusting arms. A gnawing breeze flows through a small open window, its grating nails scratching down the back of your neck. You instinctively grab the edges of the blanket around your shoulders and pull it down lower, across the rest of your outstretched hands and legs. You transition your attention back to the other person, before swallowing up all the dread thatâs been choking you.Â
                 You whisper silently into the microphone, your voice nearly faltering at the first letter, but you follow through. âIâm ready, yeahâŠâ Breathe in the air, you deserve it. âSee ya tomorrow, you insane lovely critter.â Inwardly screaming at yourself with all the energy you have left, you sleepily lean back into your seat, and smile at them. You know that there is much more to say, but the words are gagged in your throat, so you warily give a sheepish smile of gratitude to your reciprocate. They return a knowing sliver of relief at seeing you holding steadier. Hanging on for a last moment, waiting for a last response, your face crinkles in succulent relief as their lips move to say a final farewell.Â
âGoodnight dummy. I love you, so you betta sleep well, otherwise imma have to come round and whack some sense into that ugly creature of yours so it knows what itâs fighting up against. Me. But seriously, sleep well Misaki.â
As you get up to go, it hits you. This is real. They really exist. You can recall all of the moments that lead up to this one. This is not the end. This is barely even the start. Things change. Life changes. I am sure of that, I know this. It wonât be like last time. This time itâs different.Â
I love them.
 Closing the computer screen gently, you gingerly wander to a mirror. Gleaming off its surface is a bush of hair, which throws glints of colour off into the rest of the room, sparking. As you continue to stare, a chill reaches up your spine, and turning rapidly, you spy âThe Open Windowâ, the night's true final boss. Frustratingly scowling your way toward it, you bonk it harshly on its front pane, pointing an outstretched finger onto its slick surface. âBad Mr Windowâ. Closing the trailer's window with a small click, the cold gusts stilled, you sidestep sporadically past piles of clothes, empty pot noodle cups and trinkets, until your body begs for rest.
Finally, you fall backward onto your warm, coveted bed, its worn frame creaking out in protest, but eventually resigning in a familiar embrace. Silently, in the frozen darkness, you adjust your body to lie on its side, feet squeezed up toward your chest like some small little mouse, holed up away from the dangers outside. Instantly, a warm feeling envelops your mind, and you begin to shut down. And as you close your eyes, in the very corner of your flickering area of sight, you can just make out the thing scampering away into the gloom. Itâs still there. And it will always be, watching, waiting and whispering. But for now, you're safe, and those aches you once felt have melted away into sleep.
You do not understand how much you reading this means to me. This took a year to write. I have gone through so many versions, but here it is. Thank you. This is my third fic ever VOOP VOOP.
Heyyy! Another little piece of writing ta keep yall on your toes. Here is a liminal/backroomsy story which I MAY add more to this universe at a future date. Hope you enjoyy! :D
(Sorry that I've been gone for a while...)
Breathless. The jagged edges of the cold concrete wall jut against my bleeding back, weary legs toppling down in front of me. Restless eyes flicker back and forth, aching arm limp at my side, I gingerly shudder, pain flooding to my shoulder, before licking ferociously at the gaping indent. A shallow gasp scrambles out as I press myself towards the outward wall, wounded and crumpled. The broken lamps above my battered head watch as sentinels, silently betting on how long I am yet to last. And thatâs when I hear it. Tip tap. A thin long scratch echoes from its source, my breath cold and stiff. Stay silent. Now.
Eerie dark red lights flicker through the frosted glass of the door, buzzing, etching itself across the tiled flooring, creeping towards my squashed figure. I grimace, bending my head below a desk nearby. Whispers whirl in the darkness, snapping at my ears before skittering away. Tip tap. Tip tap. Quick, slicing sounds grate from outside, the small square room quivering against me. Suddenly, a blanket of darkness covers the area, my vision fleeting, running in fear. A hiss. The creature's glowing face contorts to mine, its soulless eyes staring into mine, blurred in the frosted glass. The wooden door groaning, planks crunching against the thing outside. Silence. Once again. I look back at the pane, the crimson gleam glaring violently back in. I shut my eyes and let out a breath. A mistake. The door creaks open, its body contorting in. I scream.
My eyes hurt, my ears hurt, my whole body hurts. The roar. The screeches. I shut my eyes more and more. But it doesnât arrive. No slicing claws. No gaping maw. Nothing. But as I wait, the sound keeps screaming, keeps bounding from side to side, echoing around me. A smell jolts me awake, my mindâs focus rekindled. Mouth gaping open, bitter flakes landing on my tongue.
I gently lift an eyelid. An orange blare sparks around me, dancing flames circling, flaring from below. The door, now lying on the floor, erupts in smoke, glass burning, edges beginning to charr over. The smouldering remains of something, already gently rotting, lie prone in front of me, its voided body melting before the orange flames, devouring their meal. Smoke wriggles its way up my mouth and nose, choking me, holding me accountable.
I cautiously step over the heap of living matter, into the long stretching hallway, the inferno clinging to the walls. With my un-injured leg, I limp down the corridor, perilously dodging the falling flaming material and melting ceiling tiles. My skin prickles, the heat burning against my hair, reaching towards me, watching, waiting, with an invisible smirk. I spot a LED sign, which blares with the word, âEXITâ As I reach for the door handle, I look back on the crumbling interior, and blink. I had been saved. But at what cost? I step through the doorway.
2 Misaki fics in the works, one liminal fun story and more? Maybe an actual long length story??? You'll just have to wait and see my little amphi-beans. :D
I NEED PEOPLE TO TELL ME OPINIONS ABOUT MY GAME AND HOW TO IMPROVE IT. I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO POST SOMETHING LIKE THIS, BUT I WOULD HIGHLY APPRICATE HELP. DM IF INTERESTED.
Misaki may or may not be a little bit cold, so they go off in search of something warm...
Moonlit shadows whisper among the twisting pathways; the darkness watching, waiting, in the lair which it calls its own. Night. Flickering lights, air twirling, billowing against thin flaky walls. Blaring sirens emanate across the landscape, sharp pillars of glass etching their way across the horizon, stars twinkling solemnly in their reflections. The white orb in the sky stares down towards its neighbours, covering everything in its rich glow. The night is already well underway.
Atop a parapet, a hidden figure stands. Darkness blankets them, hidden from the shimmering spotlights up above. The chilly air bats their jet black hair, red tints outlined in the gloom. Lips curl in a smirk, vibrant eyes spinning furiously as the shape moves silently across the rooftops.
Well, as silent as a freezing human can be, given how much weight theyâre carrying. As they heave their case along the stone, quick, shallow breaths tumble out of their mouth, excitement catching up with them.
Theyâre here.
 The thin body slinks downwards, crouching just above an open window, peering perilously inside. Suddenly, something comes tumbling downwards into the gaping darkness. The bag plummets forwards, and they stumble towards it, boots slipping on the window's ledge. With a desperate grab and a tug, their gloves clutch the dangling bag from below. Their free hand grasps sharply against the brick, groping for a handhold.
 âShi-â The word barely escapes their lips before they clutch their hands over their mouth. They gingerly look around, embarrassed. Then they hear a sound. A rustle from inside the building. Turning their head to follow the noise, their eyes widen in worry. Adjusting their bright eyes to the darkness of the mellow room, they scan the furniture. From the carpets, a wardrobe, a desk, they settle their gaze onto the bed. A splayed out body lays under the duvet, guarded by brightly coloured plushies. They chuckle, gently lifting the window higher, winching the bag upwards with their cold shivering hands. With a squeeze into the room, they smile, wandering over to the sleeping figure. Giving her a quick peck on the cheek, they begin wandering elsewhere in the house.
The morning light claws its way into the room, a warm glow showers the shelves of the bedroom. The resting creature below begins to stir, hazy eyes fluttering as they sit up with a yawn and a sudden realization. You place a hand to your head, peeling off a scrap of paper. Your mind spins with confusion. As you read, your messy hair falls over your eyes, your mouth curving into a wide grin, giggling.
It reads: âHeyy baby, was just passing by and I was like freeeezing. Like shivering so damn much. Yâknow how cold it can get sitting on the top of buildings for hours, holding a big heavy bag constantly. Anywayy⊠I might have maybe possibly borrowed a blanket or two⊠Or three. Hope itâs ok, I'll make it up to you, I promise. I know how much you love that cat one~ Go check the kitchen for some awesome breakfast compensation. From your favourite little assassin. :3â
You stumble out of your bed, sleepily putting on socks and slippers. Wandering out into the corridor, your body tingles with anticipation. The warm fluff from your slippers warms your feet as you trudge through the shaded passage. You arrive at the kitchen, a rich smell emanating around the space, and a knowing smile etches itself onto your face.
There, in front of you on the tabletop, lay 9 semi-burnt chocolate chip cookies. On top is a little note.
âHope you enjoy the very NOT burnt cookies. I already ate one so you know they arenât poisoned! <3â
You smile to yourself, taking a cookie. You know that this day will be a good one.
Notes:
THANK you so much for READING THISSS. This is my second fic ever!!
Thank you so much to the AMAZING NIX who edited and read through the fic before I posted it. You are physically angelic rn.
Thank you Mika_Cant_Write (who can totally write) for giving me inspiration and getting me to actually work on the fic instead of sitting on it like an elephant seal. You really helped alot, you awesome. <3
LASTLY, THANK YOU. YOU. THE ONE READING THIS. THANK YOU FOR READING IT!!!!
Hello faithful amazing humans. I, zulu am working on this awesome series of stuff which is cool. A writing series. And this is the first! This is not connected to what else I post, so sorry Killer Chat fans, I want to do some other stuff along with the fanfics. At the end of the story, there is some info on the inspiration behind it and all. Hope you enjoy! </3
The cold misty air thickens, the morning dew dripping off the honey yellow leaves. A thick carpet of frost paves the undergrowth, the chilling wind whirling around the forest, rustling leaves from their hiding places. A pale light comes from above, a ball of heat, its powers diminished by autumn's façade. The echoing grunts of rutting deer shudder against the thin birch trees, the majestic beasts wandering around aimlessly, like kings. The moss encompasses the damp spongy detritus, vibrant violet crocuses distributed across the banks. Passing birds whistle in the morning light, jostling for the last scraps before winter's grasp fully thickens. A late cuckoo's call sounds from above a cliffside, frayed roots dangling from the encrusted soil. A rotting tree lies, grubs crawling through, and stag beetles jostling above. NĂscalos stand guard, their bulbous heads brushing against each other, watching passers-by. Rich pathways of lichen line the walls of caves, water running through the cracks, whispering forgotten secrets.Â
The rustle of leaves sound, as a party of men come trudging past, sighing in relief. The line stretches a dozen long, large packs attached to their backs, their eyes and ears alert, their ironclad boots shaking the ground below. Deep bushy moustaches clasped to their weary faces, hands meshed with muck. A susurration of noise emanates from behind a thicket, an unplumbed, guttural groan. A loud bang palpitates, a shot, blindly fired out of fear. He stumbles back, terrified, his pale eyes rapidly spinning. As the bullet hits its target, a soft thump resounds, then a moan, a silence. As they peer around the trunk, they catch sight of a wooly mess, its eyes struck in endless panic, its great antlers strewn on the ground, wedged into the decaying leaves. The elkâs great body shudders, as the men quickly scramble away, their minds panicked. As they shouldâŠÂ
The sun sets on the forest, the diurnal animals disappearing without a trace, and all is quiet, except the constant pursuit of the people. A small river braids around boulders, eroding them over decades. Cascading rapids froth, as salmon valiantly climb up, their colours draining. The men get to work and set up camp, fish caught and sleeping bags set down, the crackle of a fire blazing, light spreading around, encompassing the bivouac. Smoke rings billow out of pipes, as they lay around, their minds now at ease, the ancient darkness halted. They extinguish their lamps and climb into their sleeping bags, bodies drowsy and drained. The edge of the trees seems distant to them as they fall asleep, the bank of the river, open and secure. They feel safe.Â
It watches them, its unnerving stretched skin stiff and gaunt, rigid bones curving in abnormal arrangements. A large towering crown adorns its head, spiked in sharp angles, its antlers jagged. Its beady sunken eyes peer out of raw sockets, glowing yellow, its mouth caked with sharp crooked teeth. Thin desiccated dermis pulls tightly over its skull, its jaws filled with a long articulated tongue, blackened from blood, foaming. It approaches.
They are awoken by a rancid smell emanating from the area, fabric and dismantled remains are littered around the fire pit. The carcass lies red, bludgeoned and speared, juxtaposed against the peaceful river. They know what has happened. And they know there was nothing they could have done. Avenged. They pack up their belongings and go on their way, sorrow following them downwind. One for sorrow.   Â
(This project started off actually scaring me alot, but in the end, I really enjoyed mixing the large descriptions of the woodland and animals with slight horror elements. This short story is set in 1907, in Irati forest, Navarre, Spain. (Which is a large birch and beach forest with wide and rich folklore)Â The animals/plants/fungi in the story are mostly appropriate for the area and season, however I may have missed something. Despite the creature originally being sparked from pop cultures Wendigo design, I really want to state that this is NOT a wendigo and is my own creature, as the wendigo from pop culture is a translation of the mythical evil spirit from Algonquian folklore, which is sadly commonly disregarded. Enjoy the plot for the next magpie sequence. Hope you enjoyed it! )
UH so this is my first fanfic, and was supposed to come out on Valentines but I'm stupid soo uhhh, here it is. I hope its ok. Please don't murder me. </3
The chilly air danced around their hair, spiralling up and down in little gusts, displacing it. They shiver, their squashed, crouched body cold and rigid, their eyes pinpointed out into the deep dark sky. Their feet quiver and they let out a frozen breath, vapour sparkling out like a waterfall.
Their small hands grip the firearm in her hands, its devilish spout gazing out into the horizon, watching and waiting. They grit their teeth as a particularly evil gust of wind comes out from nowhere and freezes her ears off. They watch the streets below from the roof, figures shuffling around, cars trailing over the roads, a hive mind of activity. Their clothes, not suited for the current weather flow around, creating a mini vacuum, enclosing the cold deeper into their already exposed body. They absentmindedly open their phone, no new messages.Â
Time passes slowly, the sun setting behind the towering skyscrapers, but not before a quick snap of the wonderful pink sunset. After sleepily uploading it to the server, and reveling in the compliments it brings, they settle down once again on the parapet. A small sigh escapes their lips as the bustling city falls asleep, its nightmares beginning. They scout out the roads nearby, the street lamps glowing below like candles on a birthday cake.
The time is 11:50, and their hands shake in the winter night, police cars blaring in the far distance. A warm atmosphere envelops them from behind, an air conditioning unit whirring into life, pummeling them with a toasty touch. They relax, their body melting into the cement, a little smile spreading across their face, adjusting themselves so that their entire body is exposed to the heat. It's nearly time.
Despite the newfound warmth, their eyes still feel heavy, their limbs drenched in cold sweat. The cold metal in their hands tears them back to reality as they hear a sharp squeak coming from below, a thrum. A stop. As they peer over the top of the building, they spy a taxi pulling up nearby, a small man bundling out, shouting insults at the driver. He jumbles onto the pavement, his rich brown waistcoat dragging against the damp floor, as he picks up a large leather briefcase. Target acquired. As the car drives off into the distance, he starts mumbling to himself, trudging up the street.Â
A crack. As he steps forward, his feet come to a halt, for just a moment, before he topples over. His small rimmed glasses plummet after him, as his head hits the floor. Before long, a small flow of crimson seeps out, sluggishly trickling into the road. Job done.Â
They stretch, a deep yawn emanating into the dark cloudy sky. As they begin to walk towards the ladder downwards, they hear a small ding. Reaching into their pocket they take out their phone, which illuminates the roof like a beacon. One new message.
<reader>: It all go well?
<hitmeuppp>: yep, as well as it could
<hitmeuppp>: just super duper tired
<reader>: Iâm sorry </3Â
<reader>: Dinner is ready for you at home baby, I got your favourite for tomorrowâs movie too
<hitmeuppp>: EEEE can't wait!!
<hitmeuppp>: iâll be home in 10 đ
<reader>: Awesome!!Â
<reader>: I love you, yâknow that?
<hitmeuppp>: who wouldnât đÂ
<hitmeuppp>: i love you too
<hitmeuppp>: NOW I NEED TO GET HOME IT'S FREEZING HERE