#mystical horror

[noturprobiem]

a little horror piece i wrote

cw: blood, a description of a dead body, a mention of cannibalism for a second

I have had a fascination with the forest since early childhood. My parents took me there to pick berries and mushrooms every autumn and those were my happiest moments back then. So, when it was time to go again, right after my eleventh birthday, I was ecstatic. 

It was truly a beautiful sight. Red and yellow leaves a blanket on the wet, cold ground, lush tree crowns of gold and bronze shining in the morning sun. I loved the way air smelled then, of dump grass and fresh dirt, of bark and pine.

You need to be covered head to toe in thick clothes to protect you from mite and thorns, so you walk and move slowly. It's not very cold this time of year, but after hours and hours outside your cheeks and nose become pink and itchy. Well, as a child I didn't care about anything other than getting my basket full of the best mushrooms I could find and eating as much berries as possible. Nothing could convince me it was time to head home. Nowadays you can't pay me enough to spend even a minute in the woods.

We were far from the only family there, now and again I saw someone pass by, sometimes even with dogs, which I liked very much as a kid. I remember telling my parents that we should get a dog, too, so it can protect us from wild animals, which only made them chuckle. 

I don't really remember how I got lost. After so many years I might have imagined so many details that weren't even there, so many thoughts and feelings that I retroactively assigned to a child who just wandered off into the woods. However, when I think of that time, all that comes to mind is that I felt compelled to see where a path hidden between two wide tree trunks would lead me. I walked and walked until I almost reached a clearing and stopped, frozen in place. Only then I noticed a rhythmic, moist sound of chewing. A sudden gust of wind brought a metallic smell of blood and meat with it. There was something big and moving behind the last row of trees. I held my breath and covered my mouth with my hand. Dad taught me that you should never run or scare a hungry wild animal, so I stayed put, refusing to even take a peek. I could feel my heart pumping blood in my temples, my hands and legs shaking with every escaping gasp as the sound of tearing flesh came again and again. I didn't cry. I was too focused on surviving.

But after a long, long time I couldn't take it anymore. I looked. What was before me did not look like any real animal but every description I gave made adults sure it was an elk. It was massive, with giant deer antlers, its limbs smooth and dark, stretched and bent in unnatural ways. But I can swear that its face didn't look like anything I've seen before. It's neck twisted to reveal a flat, round muzzle with big black eyes staring straight into my soul. I stared back. With every passing second my heart accelerated and I was ready for it to stop for good. But the creature made a few small steps away, as if inviting me to feast together. This was when I saw its prey.

It was a hunter, with his chest torn open, a gun still lying on the ground near him. I gulped and shook my head. The creature looked at me and tilted its head to the side like a curious puppy. I did the same, hoping it would think I was a friend. Somehow, it worked. It continued its feast without me, only pausing sometimes to look at me. Like it was asking if I'm sure I don't want to join.

When my legs started to ache and only the skeleton was left from the poor guy, it left, turning its head one last time to look at me. I fell to the ground and wept for what seemed like hours until I felt like there was nothing to cry with anymore. I got up and went back where I came from, my legs shaking. But when I heard the voices and finally found my way to the main path, my parents weren't scared at all. 

“What, you saw something interesting in the bushes?” Mom asked.

I nodded. And dragged myself after them for hours. Red berries made me want to throw up, mushrooms reminded me of skin and flesh, and I was throwing up for days without any reason, which made my parents scared that I ate the wrong mushroom. And even after the doctors said I was fine, they decided this was our last trip to the forest.

Of course, I wasn't going to argue with that.

[bamsara]

there is a very easy, quick but messy solution to all your problems.

Part 1. pov 5 seconds before the Mystic Seller drops a memory bomb on Narinder

[hauntingfaerie]

[batboopp]

batman has gotta be one of my favorite heroes only because he’ll go through the most borderline traumatic series of events possible where he may or may not have proved an afterlife existed just to drive away in his stupid fucking batcar with his stupid fucking bat ears peeking out

[weirdlookindog]

Mihály Zichy (1827–1906) - Tamara and Demon, 1864

illustration for Mikhail Lermontov's poem 'The Demon'

[bebs-art-gallery]

© Breed My Darkness

[otpadsis]

[alaztheri]

"I've been dead this whole time and no one seemed to notice."

[fanofspooky]

Scream King - Laurence Fishburne

[occultfamily]

omnilord is calling

[noturprobiem]

A short horror story for my little series.

This one is about tunnels. Toxic yuri included.

Today we got a bit carried away in the hotel and almost missed the sunset. I wouldn't really care, but Julia threw me off of her and ran straight to the bathroom the moment she noticed what time it was. The sights were her favorite part, after all. She loved to stand, unmoving, looking at the flowers or the clouds. I never fully understood her obsession, to be honest.

Julia and I have been to dozens of ruins in the last few years. We have an established routine at this point, unspoken rules that let us work together despite our differences. It started by complete accident when we bumped into each other during one of my explorations. Julia helped bandage my sprained ankle and walked me to the hotel room that night. A remarkably embarrassing experience, but it worked out as we woke up together next morning. I don't remember how exactly it started but since then we've worked as a team, meeting exactly once a month. 

When we arrive, the sky is already blood red. It is beautiful, I admit. Sometimes even I get hypnotized watching the darkness slowly descend onto the world, gently coating the old building and the remains of what was once a lavish garden. We stand there, not saying a word, for a long time. The night air is fresh and chilly, it is about to rain. I feel relieved. A night is not the end for me, it is the beginning of my weekend, and I can finally drive to the end of the world, turn off my phone and disappear from the radars. I can passively float through time and space, not wanted or needed anywhere at all. Isn't that what freedom is?

We don't really spend much time above ground after dark. There is nothing to see, only parts of old walls remaining, trashed and covered in graffiti. I politely wait for Julia to take her pictures before we both move on. The basement looks promising. As we get closer, I feel a surge of anticipation building up deep in my stomach. Something tells me this time is not like the others, this time I will discover something truly breathtaking. Julia doesn't seem as excited but it's to be expected, she never understood my love for underground.

It's a small room, covered in moss, trash and dirt. It smells of mold and other unpleasant things so Julia covers her mouth with a respiratory mask. She's always been more of a lady than me.

One wall calls out to me. It's not special in any way, at least not outwardly, but I feel a gentle pull towards it deep in my soul. As I come closer, I realize it's not concrete, but a thin material. It's fragile, and somehow I am the first one to discover that. There shouldn't be anything behind that wall, but my gut is telling me to break it. Julia is laughing at me when I take out a hammer. 

But I have to see for myself. So I hit twice, then three times. And finally, the hole is big enough to illuminate what lies behind the wall — it is absolutely nothing. I don't mean that there is a wall, I mean that there isn't. The light drowns in the darkness before it can meet anything solid.

“You'll just «discover» some pipes. Or questionable design choices.”

Now Julia is invested, too. Still holding the torch for us both, she kicks the cracks in the wall, revealing more and more of what’s behind it. We step inside, on an old-fashioned marble staircase. 

“You told me you've researched this place,” I say.

“I did,” Julia huffs. “This place was built on a random plot of land and got bombed into the state it is today, I don't know what to tell you. No matter where I looked, no mention of previous structures. I have no idea how it's even possible.”

“Maybe it's a secret bunker.”

“Doubt it.”

We descend the stairs slowly. My heart is pounding in excitement I have never felt before, an euphoric sense of belonging. It's not long until the stairs end to reveal a long corridor. I feel weightless as I slowly go ahead, sliding my hand against a wall. It's bare, untouched. The air here is clean, dry and warm, like in my childhood bedroom. There's still a residue smell of earth, calming and reassuring. I don't need Julia's torch to see anymore. My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness.

“What if it collapses? We should leave,” Julia says.

“Leave?! Do you understand what we just found?” 

“Yes, and we could come back more prepared.”

I shake my head but Julia can't see it anyway.

“We must see how far it goes, at least.”

We leave our bags on the ground. Julia only takes a few items with her in a small backpack, but I don't even feel the need to.

“Okay.”

The tunnels change with every passing hour. Some sections look ancient, built out of uneven stone, some are concrete structures, some — raw dirt and rocks. The change is smooth and pleasant, relaxing like no walk in a park could ever be. Julia can't stop whining and calling out to me. I tell her to leave but she doesn't.

We reach an opening. Brick walls disappear, and in front of us is a space so grand I can't help but run through it. Julia's worried voice quickly fades into the background. With every passing minute my eyes become better and better at differentiating the beautiful floral patterns painted on the floor. This place is stunning, it's enormous, and it could all belong to me.

“Lily,” Julia begs, “we must go back. This isn't right, this place is completely wrong in so many ways. If we get lost here, we won't be able to go back.”

“Do you still want to go back?” I ask, letting anger seep into my voice. 

Her presence has been making me uncomfortable for a while now, ruining my solace, preventing me from being truly, completely alone. She has been blessed with a sight no one has ever seen; with the privilege to walk across those grand hallways; a chance to hide from the world in a comforting darkness. She doesn't cherish it.

“I don't like this place,” Julia admits, her voice shaking. “We haven't been eating, drinking or resting for hours, and we are completely fine.”

“Then leave.”

Julia looks at me like I'm already dead, and I'm content with it. She is as tired of me as I am of her, disappointed and mad. We weren't even close enough to stick together for that long, anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she says and tosses me a spare torch. I catch it so it won't shutter on the beautiful floor, but immediately put it away. Light hurts my eyes as I look at Julia, but not for long. Her steps echo in the hallways. Soon, it's dark and quiet.

The hall is round. There are tunnels leading in every direction, all different in shapes and sizes. I sit in the middle for a while, breathing in the warmth.

Then I go deeper. 

previous

[the-watcher-in-the-sky]

[therealcallmekd]

Malware Jax: Bad Rabbit

well maybe less of a rabbit and more of a bug...

first of a new AU I started working on, :3 don't worry I will still be doing Magia au stuff as well but I want to wait until I know more about the characters and stuff with later episodes in the show!

obsessed with this au concept, feel free to ask me anything about it n stuff. Since it's my own thing and not a cross over i can do more with it.

More designs will be coming soon, just gonna take me awhile to line and color them all..

[avephelis]

tummytello looking kind of funny there

[weirdlookindog]

František Kobliha (1877-1962) - Illustration for the book 'Mstivá Kantilena' (Vengeful Kantilena), 1912

[fordacult]