#the imagery in my head is nothing short of gore-y

[thelostscholarofmcd]

your feeling was one hundred percent accurate, i did indeed love all of this

I am not sorry about the questions im about to flood you with

So I feel like talking about the Divine Relics and how exactly they exist as well as other stuff surrounding them in the rewrite cause I feel like they are really interesting in concept.

So to put in the simplest terms I can, the Relics are essentially crystallizations of an individual’s magic taken from out of a person’s body. They have enough magic equivalent to the entirety of a single person’s magic in a raw form. And since magic and life are inseparable in the rewrite, and the Relics are crystallizations of basically all of someone’s magic… creating a relic from someone would, in almost all circumstances, kill that person. Yeah they’re kind of horrific in essence. However, if someone naturally had insane amounts of innate magic (like Irene did) then they could make a relic for themselves without dying. Not that there wouldn’t be other consequences. There are very few beings that have enough magic to make a relic and not end up dead, the Divine Warriors could because they all had stupidly large magic reserves. But since magic has considerably weakened/become harder to harness as the years went by, by the time where the rewrite begins, it would be an actual miracle for someone to be born with the reserves to have a relic made out of them and not die.

As to how and why Relics were originally made, it’s thanks to the Divine Warriors being kind of scared and paranoid. They were worried that they would one day come across a threat they wouldn’t be able to face alone, so they created the Relic canon. The idea was that in the day such a threat came, they would be able to fight by having their own already incredible abilities supplemented by the raw magic available to them through their relics. That or slap the relics onto the canon and essentially use it as a massive magically-powered super weapon. Whichever would be most effective for the threat. After the relics were made, Irene sent the canon into the Irene Dimension, where it remained until it got dragged out by Shad in the events that led up to how MCD ended in the rewrite. After that, no one could quite figure out how to send the canon back, so instead the settled for making it incredibly harder for anyone to reach it again by putting it somewhere that would be near impossible to reach and building a temple with multiple defense mechanism around it (the massive flying building fro When Angels Fall).

also, @thelostscholarofmcd I have a feeling you’ll really like this. I can go deeper if someone wants. I just request that if any questions are had, they just send an ask to the blog

[taiyakiiwrites]

— angsttober day #3: possessed

pairing(s): shoto todoroki x gn!reader

wc: 0.8k+ words

summary: todoroki likes having control of his own life, now as an adult. so when he comes home after a long day at work, the conversation you and him have is nothing short of painful for both parties.

content: break up, aged up todoroki just for the sole reason for him to be a pro hero, body gore imagery, possession because that’s the word for today

notes: i don’t want to jinx anything here by sayin stuff like “wow i think i’m getting the hang of posting everyday” or “look at me i’m doing so well” so we’re not going to,,, enjoy!!

⇉ requests are open!! || main masterlist || angsttober masterlist || rules

unlike most days, todoroki didn’t bother to take off the jacket of his hero costume as he shut the front door, nor did he call out your name. instead, he headed straight for the bedroom, where you were laying peacefully on your phone. he opened the door.

you glanced up from the screen for a second, hearing footsteps; you smiled. he wished he could smile back. “shoto! how was work today?” you asked, like always.

“i want to break up.”

you froze. the smile on your face twitched, lowering slightly. “w…” you chuckled. “what?”

he did nothing different but repeat his last statement: “i want to break up.”

shoto’s face was always so stoic, but even though he showed no emotion on his face, you were always able to read his eyes. however, when you looked into his eyes…

you saw nothing.

“baby, did something happen during work?” you asked, making your way off the bed and towards shoto. you continued to look in his eyes.

“no,” he replied simply. “it just sort of…” he looked at his hand for a moment, then back at you, “hit me. we’re not good for each other, (y/n).”

you took a small breath. you two were having a couple fights here and there, but it didn’t seem like those were arising from any greater issue. they were pointless arguments over small things… right?

you stayed silent. you couldn’t read him. his eyes looked almost soulless, blank as a new sheet of paper. “shoto… talk to me,” you decided to say. “what happened?”

there was a change in his expression. a scowl tugged on his lips and his eyebrows turned downward. “you haven’t noticed anything different about our relationship?” he asked. “or were you just blinded by an idea that everything would always be okay with you and me?”

you glanced around you. “n-no? i mean, yes? well, i-it’s been a while since we’ve had any time together, but you’re just busy with hero work. and we’ve had a couple fights, but it was over petty things! i—” you looked into his gaze again. “i thought we were doing pretty well?”

“was that thought based on anything solid?” he pried, his voice now condescending and bitter.

“well, shoto—”

he stopped you. “is it because you think you know me so well?” he mocked, gesturing with his hands lightly. weird, shoto wasn’t usually the type for hand gestures—“i bet you’re analyzing me right now, aren’t you?”

you sighed. “i’m just trying to figure out what happened. you’re not telling me anything!”

“i’m telling you this:” he took a step forward. “you shouldn’t act like you know everything about me, or anything that i’ve been dealing with—at work in the past days or my life in the past years.” he took another step. “and believe me when i know what i want sometimes. i’m not that stupid.” another step. he was now looking down at you. “so believe me when i say, that i know what’s best for me and us!”

there was nothing you could do. you were so confused. all the while, his eyes still looked as blank as before. “shoto—”

“from now on, it’s todoroki to you.”

your breathing stilled. “sho—”

“todoroki.”

you stopped. “… todoroki, lay down. sleep. you’ve had a long day—”

without a warning, he walked forward and bumped into your shoulder harshly. you stumbled. you stared at the wall now in front of you, and you didn’t notice todoroki packing a suitcase with clothes and essentials behind you.

you were trying to be understanding. todoroki had been through a lot and you never wanted to push anything he wasn’t ready for. him being the type for more physical language rather than vocal, you had to learn how to read him. now? it was like a whole new language.

“… todoroki?”

he ignored your call. “if you won’t leave, then i will.” you turned around and saw him pick up his suitcase. he looked you dead in the eye. “i expect to come back here to a more spacious home and no trace of you.” his tone was harsh and icy, cold and lifeless. you gulped.

“you can’t be serious,” you squeaked.

a beat.

“i don’t love you as much as you think i do.”

—

todoroki had never wanted to slap himself as much as he did now. he wanted to claw at his skin until it bled all it could, gouge out his eyes and throw them away. rip off his face and cut off the tongue that was hurting you in ways he never would.

but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t budge.

the only thing he could do was watch as his own body betrayed him, tearing away the only thing that he cared about.

[alltooreid]

All Too Well

Spencer must go to him and Y/N’s once shared apartment to clean out his things and leave her life forever. While there he can’t help but look back on his actions, the ones that made him lose the love of his life forever

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfic ever published on here and I’m excited to share it with you all! It’s inspired by one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs All Too Well, but although I utilized some of the lyrical genius and imagery from it, the story is not the same as the story in the song. This is a very angsty fic, and there is not a happy ending. Although there are some cute fluffy elements, including a Reid’s purple scarf origin story, I would in no way call this happy. Additionally, because of a reason you may later realize, the content warnings are very vague. If anything even slightly mentioned in them may affect you, I advise you to maybe stay clear. On a lighter note, if anyone wants to request anything, whether it’s another song inspired fic or a general plot line you would like to see please do so!! Also sorry this is kinda short, I’m still learning but I’m really proud of this one :))

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Type: Very Angsty, Not a Happy Ending, (Y/N and Spencer do not end up together)

Word Count: 2.4k

Content Warnings(try to ignore if you would prefer to stay surprised): slight cursing, discussions of death and gore, discussion of car crash

Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments :) let me know what you think!

“But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause you remember it all too well”

Spencer was packing up his things, finally getting the chance to clear out and move from the apartment he and Y/N once shared.  Their relationship was rocky and unconventional but he loved her all the same. Even though he left her broken-hearted and destroyed his most cherished relationship. Even though Y/N’s parents now hated him because of what he did to her. Even though hope of repairing what they once had was long gone and there was nothing else he could do about it. Even though he had torn up the masterpiece they once had together. He still loved her so much.

But the magic was gone and so was she. 

Now Spencer was left with memories, and since the apartment they lived in was hers instead of his, filed entirely under hers and her parents name. In his excessive knowledge and wisdom, Spencer Reid struggled to understand how the kitchen where Y/N told him she loved him for the first time as he lit the candle on the collapsing confetti cake he had attempted to bake for her birthday was in no way legally tied to him. 

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy birthday to you!” Spencer sang as he lit the single pink birthday candle he found after rummaging through his desk drawers for longer than he cared to admit. He knew it was in there somewhere, but at the same time there was a whole lot in there. 

As he looked at her face, eyes welling up with tears as she took in the sad, homemade excuse for a birthday party Spencer had thrown together after they got back from a case hours before, he couldn’t help but feel he should have done more. He wanted to take her to New York, where they would’ve enjoyed fine dining and one of those incredibly detailed floral frosting cakes he knew Y/N was infatuated with. 

However, the case in Oregon ran long. They had only returned to their apartment 2 hours ago, hours past their 7pm dinner reservations. Although Y/N tried to hide her disappointment, you don’t need to be a profiler to know that someone wants to celebrate their own birthday. So although they had agreed to go to bed and play everything by ear tomorrow, the young genius had, what he would still argue to be, his most brilliant idea when he saw Y/N asleep once he got out of the shower.

It was still her birthday.

And Spencer had just under 2 hours to throw you a party. 

So sure, Y/N deserved more than a cake that was definitely not cool enough to frost, but was frosted anyway due to time constraints. And she definitely deserved more than present hastily wrapped in his printed out articles and newspaper clippings. Spencer wished that he had time to go buy new candles, instead of lighting a green sparkly number 7 because it was all he could find.

But it was almost midnight, and that meant he only had 18 minutes before it wasn’t Y/N’s birthday anymore.

So instead of dwelling on it, he headed to their bedroom, shook her awake and watched her roll over to face him. He watched the smile overtake her face as she said the stupid party hat he was wearing, made out of a pom pom and a wedding invitation.

“Hey birthday girl,” he said softly, “you do realize you’re sleeping through your party right?”

She looked so happy that night, even as she saw the way too messy kitchen and her birthday cake that was melting by the second. She laughed as Spencer fumbled with the lighter. 

And as he finished singing her eyes started releasing tears. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish we could’ve done more for the first birthday we get to spend together. “

“No, no, no” she said as she wiped her tears away, “It’s not that at all.”

She smiled and looked up at him “I just love you so goddamn much Spencer.”

Although at one point, all Spencer knew was logic and logically Y/N had never ever known him when she filed her paperwork, the genius still struggled to grasp the concept. That even before the ending of it all, you had no legal, definite connection to her at all. 

How was nothing about this place, his? 

  All that he knew was that he had today to pack all his shit and leave. All he knew is that Y/N’s father had made it very clear none of their family wanted to see him again. 

He wished he could talk to Y/N about it. However all of his calls went to voicemail immediately. 

Logically, Spencer knew why, he had completely fucked up. 

But still, he called every single day, as there was nothing his heart wished for more than to speak to Y/N again. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.

As the cold air from the open windows blew into the apartment, Spencer couldn’t help but feel he was leaving his home behind. Everything left of her was going to be here, and he wouldn’t get to experience any part of the life you and him had once shared together anymore.

But then he saw it. 

The royal purple scarf Y/N bought the day of their first date. 

“You like this color right?” she asked as they stopped by a booth at the street festival she had taken him to. Spencer was too distracted as he watched the other couples on dates, as they walked hand and hand down the streets. He sometimes wished he could forget things like the number of germs and bacteria that lived on her hands. He at least wished he could forget long enough to gather enough courage to hold Y/N’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Hmm?” he said, looking back at her, then the scarf she was now wearing. “Oh, yeah! I love that color, it um- looks great on you.”

She smiled, then turned to the weird old guy running the stand. “How much for the scarf?” she asked.

He looked at her, then looked at Spencer, “depends which one of you is paying.”

Before Spencer could say anything, let alone pull out his wallet, Y/N already had hers out. 

“Well, for a pretty lady like you, it’s 2 dollars,” the man said.

She handed him five and turned to Spencer. “You hear that? I’m so pretty I get 80% off! Wonder what you would’ve paid huh pretty boy? He would probably owe you money.” The man handed her her change and whispered something Spence couldn’t quite catch. 

“Gross,” Y/N said as they exited the booth, “he wrote his number on my change.”

Spencer chuckled, “Did you really just buy that scarf because I like the color of it?”

She smiled, “Don’t get so cocky now Einstein, I like purple too you know? And maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you borrow it.”

At that moment Spencer felt just okay enough to wrap his arm around Y/N’s, and she felt just right enough to wrap the new scarf around them both. 

The one she left next to her front door, after making the last minute decision to leave it at home the night of their final outing.

No one would notice if he….. Right?

Sure maybe Y/N would but what would she do about it? Hunt him down just to get a scarf she paid less than five dollars for? Definitely not. 

He wrapped it around his neck and closed his eyes, even days later he could perfectly picture Y/N singing in his car, fascinated by the autumn leaves falling around her. He felt the wind in his hair, but instead of the cold, dreary air from the open apartment window, he swore he could remember the warm air from that October night. 

“Spencer I know you hate it but please, please, please. I’m so tired.”

“Sweetheart you’re not tired, you’re drunk. Of course I have to drive you home.”

“Oh, whatever.”

A phone call broke him away from his memories, it was Hotch. Spencer was angry, how effortlessly cruel of him to call him during such an emotional time. Hotch knew how much Spencer loved Y/N, the whole team did. 

So he didn’t pick up.

Instead he walked over to the coffee table they used to put their feet on when they binged watched Doctor Who together. Letting the ringtone play out in the background, Spencer picked up an old photo album Y/N’s parents must have brought out. Of course he remembered it, it was the same one they flipped through when he met Y/N’s parents for the first time. He didn’t realize she had brought it home with her.

His eyes welled up with tears as he flipped through the old school pictures, remembering how embarrassed Y/N was of her big glasses. He saw her old athlete pictures from when she used to play tee ball, and flipped through more pictures until he reached the end of your softball career, in college. 

He remembered how hard Y/N blushed when she showed him her childhood bedroom. Her twin sized bed was full of stuffed animals and her walls covered in boy band posters. 

“You know what Spencer? I don’t want to hear it. I loved and still love the BackStreet Boys and I am not ashamed of that.”

He laughed, “You know, before we started dating I always thought you were so cool and unattainable. I imagined that you had always been this chic, beautifully brilliant badass. It’s oddly comforting to know that you wore tortoiseshell glasses and had a fruitless infatuation with Nick Carter.”

She gasped, before tossing her tabby cat stuffed toy at him, “You’re about to get it!”

Once again he was called out of the memory by his phone. 

And once again he let it ring.

Spencer went into their shared bedroom, most of his things were already put into boxes for him. Honestly he was surprised that they hadn’t been set on fire or thrown away after what he did. 

Soon it was time for him to take his things down to his car.

Except it wasn’t even his car. It was Morgan’s.

“Spencer, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life. I am infatuated with you, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“You sure that isn’t the alcohol talking Y/N”

“Look at me Spencer, no, no really look at me.”

He couldn’t imagine ever using his old car again after what had happened in it.

“You are my future.”

Not that he could use it again.

“You are my everything.”

It was pretty much destroyed, after that accident on that little town street.

“I want nothing more in my life, than for you to be in it.”

When he was so enamored by Y/N, so in love that he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that he ran a red light.

And the truck waiting to go didn’t stop either.

“SPENCER! SPENCER CAN YOU HEAR ME? I NEED YOU TO CALL 911!” she screamed, her voice filled with agony, her limbs mangled in a sea of crushed mental and snapped backwards by the emergency airbag she didn’t realize she was resting her feet on.

Spencer had already called 911. That was the sickest thing about it. Spencer was, physically, perfectly fine. Spencer would get to leave the hospital after just a few days. Spencer could’ve probably gotten out of the car if he tried to. But he stayed, he stayed with Y/N, as she wasn’t fine. As Spencer looked down on her broken body, and tried desperately to find just one piece of skin that wasn’t coated in blood, her blood, that is when he realized. That not only could Y/N not walk out of the hospital with him, but she probably wouldn’t even make it there.

So he sobbed, he struggled to breathe, not because of the ways Y/N did, but because he had caused all the reasons she couldn’t.

“Hey, Spencer, look at me.”

So he did, and he reached for her hands and held them so tightly, and wanted one last time to feel her squeeze back. And she did, just ever so softly. 

“Spencer, I meant everything I said to you. I want you to spend the rest of my life with me. Please.”

“I love you so much Y/N”

“I love you too.”

Spencer was drawn away from his memories once again as he got another phone call. 

But it wasn’t Hotch this time. It was Mr. Y/L/N, so he answered it. He owed him that.

“Are you out of her house yet? You’ve had hours. I want you gone Spencer.”

Spencer sighed, “I’m leaving now sir, I’m just putting the last of my things in the trunk and then I’ll be gone.”

“Good, I never want to see you again Spencer, you hear me?” Mr. Y/L/N said. “And you better not have anything of hers either. All that stuff in your car better belong to you and you only. If Y/N paid for even a dime of it it better still be in that house.”

Spencer looked down at this scarf he was wearing, the one that still smelled like her perfume. The one that he couldn’t bring himself to take off because he reminded him of so much innocence and beauty.

“Yes sir, I didn’t take anything.”

“Good. And Spencer do me a favor.”

“Anything sir.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Mr. Y/L/N said, and then hung up. Spencer sighed, he expected that and fully deserved it.

How else should a father react when you kill his daughter?

“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well”

[uvobreakmylegs]

Mountain Maiden

Anonymous requested a fantasy Shizuku fic. I took that to mean fantasy creature so I hope that was correct

sorry for the delay on this one, it took a lot of rewrites before I got to a place where I was happy with it

huldra!Shizuku

Warnings: blood, graphic depictions of violence, graphic imagery, gore, kidnapping

It was a nice day out, and since it was also your day off and you found yourself feeling a bit more adventurous, you had decided to take a mid-afternoon walk near the base of Mount Hulderheim. The walkway in the woods was surprisingly empty; you would have thought more people would have had the same idea of taking a walk on a day as nice as this one. Not that you could complain. It was nice to feel like you had the walkway to yourself.

At a certain point you took a break, sitting to the side of the path on a battered bench still covered in leaves and leaning your head back to watch the sky through the tree branches. As you sat there for a few minutes, and a peaceful silence surrounded the area, only interrupted by leaves as they were pushed around by a slight breeze.

A metal snapping sound and a soft yelp echoed through the forest and caught your attention, making you immediately stand up as you looked for the source of the sounds. They had come from further in the woods, beyond the small metal fencing that blocked off the areas that were too close to the mountain.

Unsure of what exactly those noises meant, you left the path and climbed over the small fence, ignoring the signs marked “do not enter” and those warning of falling rocks. You weren't normally one to ignore literal warning signs concerning the large mountain that overlooked the town where you lived, especially with how many from the sheriff's department warned about the dangers and the hefty fines that would come if you were caught, but you were certain that the yell you had heard had been human, and you needed to make sure that they were alright.

Weaving around numerous trees, you spotted a human shape in a nearby clearing. Though their back was turned to you, it looked like a woman. With short black hair and a long-sleeved black shirt, she was sitting in the clearing, focused on her leg that was bent in front of her. She heard when you approached, snapping her head back to face you, brown eyes staring at you through a pair of glasses.

“Are you alri- oh my god!”

You stumbled over your words as you realized that her foot had been caught in a bear trap, and she was currently trying to free herself by pulling on the metal jaws that held her. From where you stood, you could see some blood staining her jeans as well.

Doing your best to stay calm, you rushed over and knelt beside to her, your shaking hands pulled her surprisingly steady ones away from the jaws as you informed her “you can't get out of it that way, okay? We need to push down on the sides.”

You pointed to the large springs on either side of the trap.

“If we push down on those, it'll open.”

Looking at where you had pointed, the woman slowly nodded, her hands moving to the spring that was situated closest to her while you moved to the other one. She hadn't said anything yet, and you wondered if she was in shock.

The two of you pushed down on the springs, and slowly, the jaws opened, both of pushing until it had opened enough that she could slip her foot out.

“Wait a sec before you let-”

Before you could finish your sentence she had already let go, and without her weight on the spring, your strength wasn't enough to keep the jaws open and they snapped back shut with a loud clamor that rang through the forest, and this time you were the one who yelped as you instinctively jumped away.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, and you were certain you had just lost years off of your life.

“..... Sorry.”

The woman's soft voice brought you back, and you tried to calm yourself as she sheepishly looked down at the trap, seemingly realizing her mistake.

You shook your head.

“Don't worry about it. Let me see your leg, okay?”

She had been holding the area where the jaws of the trap had pierced her skin, and reluctantly pulled her hands away when you went over to inspect it, pulling up her pant leg as delicately as you could.

“The cuts don't seem too deep,” you said, “but I don't know how clean that trap is, so they might be infected.”

Pulling out a small pocketknife that you kept for emergencies, you cut a jagged strip off of the bottom of your shirt. The woman watched in silence as you wrapped the piece of cloth around her wound, pulling it tight to try and stop the bleeding. You instructed her to apply pressure around the wound, which she also did silently.

“There isn't much of a signal this close to the mountain, so I'm going to leave for a little so I can call an ambulance,” you said, “then we'll get you to a hospital and they should-”

“No.”

She interrupted you, and you blanked for a bit as you tried to recollect your thoughts, adrenaline still messing with your way of thinking.

“No?” you repeated.

“No ambulance. No hospital,” she said, then added “if you call them I'll leave.”

You weren't sure how to respond. There was no way you could just leave her like this; that wound needed more than your makeshift first aid, and you'd blame yourself for the rest of your life if she left while you were calling an ambulance and ended up needing an amputation or even dying because of an infection. Granted those were the absolute worst-case scenarios, but there was still a possibility it could get to that point.

She must have had a good reason for why she wouldn't go to a hospital. And even though you wanted to push her to go anyway, it would be better to try and work with her.

Taking in a deep breath to try and calm yourself further, you nodded at her.

“Okay. I won't involve a hospital,” you said, “but I'm not leaving you here like this. Will you come with me, and I'll fix you up at my house?

“I promise, no hospitals,” you added when the look in her eyes turned dubious, “I'm just worried, okay? This could turn into something really bad if we just leave it alone.”

She was quiet again, silently regarding you before turning her gaze to her wounded leg, her hands still wrapped around the fabric of your shirt that was slowly filling up with blood.

“Alright,” she said finally, “as long as that's all you're going to do.”

With a deep sigh of relief, you went to the side of her injury, her arm over your shoulder and yours around her waist as lifted her up, telling her to not put any weight on her foot as you began to lead her out of the clearing.

She had tensed slightly when your arm brushed against her back, but you barely noted it, putting all your focus into getting her out of those woods.

“If I check that again and I find that it's infected, I'm taking you to a doctor whether you want to or not,” you said to her, pointing to her newly bandaged leg.

“I think it'll be fine,” she said, “you seemed to know what you were doing.”

“Googling instructions on how to take care of an injury doesn't mean I know what I'm doing,” you answered, sighing as you began to put away the first aid kit. After frantically driving back to your home and getting her inside, you'd spent a good while looking up how to properly clean a wound and then how to bandage it, trying to hold yourself together whenever you felt like you had made a mistake. Now you were exhausted and you wanted nothing more than to collapse on your bed and pass out. But with your unexpected guest still being around and your obligation to make sure she got home safe, you probably wouldn't be doing that any time soon.

The woman in question had remained calm throughout all of it, and she now sat on your couch in one of your skirts that you had given her when you'd insisted that she change out of her bloody jeans. She was currently playing with the hem of the skirt as she looked around your living room.

As you set the first aid kit back on its shelf in the cabinet, a chill ran through you and you realized that you had yet to change out of your ruined shirt.

“I'll be back in a second. I need to change,” you called out to her. She responded with a short “okay” as you went off to your bedroom.

Maybe she was a bit too nonchalant about the whole situation. If it had been you who had gotten a foot in a bear trap, there probably would have been a lot more crying on your part. Then again, people processed trauma in different ways; maybe she was just someone who internalized everything.

At least for now it was over, and as you pulled a clean shirt over your head, you hoped you had done a good enough job on patching her up.

Tossing your old shirt into the trash bin as you passed by the kitchen, she was in the same spot you had left her, her eyes going back to you when she noticed your form in the doorway.

A thought then occurred to you.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Shizuku. And yours?”

You answered with your name, and then asked her “you want something to drink? I've got soda.”

“Okay.”

After getting two cans out of the fridge and handing one to her, you sat down on the couch as well, taking a long swig out of the drink as you sank into the cushions. Shizuku sipped at her drink quietly.

“So I won't ask about the hospital thing,” you began, “but what were you doing in that area? People aren't supposed to go into that part of the forest.”

Shizuku shrugged.

“Just wandering, I guess. I didn't think anyone would put traps there.”

“That's probably something that should be reported,” you said, “but I'm not sure if we can do that without outing you for going in there.”

“Would it really be that bad?” she asked.

“The fines aren't worth it. That trail is usually pretty busy, so honestly, we're pretty lucky no one saw us.”

“Hmm.”

She took another sip at the soda while you looked back down at her leg.

“You're sure that everything feels okay with that?” you asked.

“Yeah,” she answered as she looked past you.

“Your flowers are dead.”

“Huh?”

Looking behind to where she pointed, you saw that the flowers you had set out a week ago were indeed dead, withered and dried out with the petals and bits of leaves that had fallen off surrounding the glass vase they sat in.

“Shoot. Let me clear that up,” you said as you got back up. Your body protested slightly after having gotten comfortable on the couch, but you forced yourself anyway, clearing up the mess and throwing the dead flowers into the trash.

“Will you need new ones?” Shizuku asked as you sat back down.

“At some point; I'm not going to worry about that now. Too exhausted,” you sighed.

Shizuku hummed, tapping her fingernails against the metal of the soda can.

“Seems like I've caused you a lot of problems. Sorry about that,” she said.

“What was I supposed to do? Leave you there?” you asked, “helping someone out of a situation like that is the natural thing to do.”

She hummed again, still staring at the can. Maybe it was just how tired you were, but there was a certain tone to her voice that made it seem like she didn't agree.

“Anyway,” you continued, “it'd be best if you didn't go back to that area. If someone's setting up traps like that, who knows what else could be there.”

“There have never been traps there before,” she said, “those are something recent.”

“.... How often are you jumping that fence to get to that area?” you asked.

She shrugged.

“A lot.”

“.... Don't you think you should stop doing that? With what happened today?”

“It'll be fine. I'll be careful from now on.”

She downed the rest of her drink while you looked at her in disbelief. Shizuku must have had nerves of steel to not even be concerned about those traps. Or maybe she just had a really, really poor sense of self-preservation.

Shizuku set the now empty can on the coffee table.

“It's starting to get late. I should get going.”

She was right that it was getting late; the sun was setting, leaving the sky in various shades of orange and pink as the dark of night began to creep in. Had that much time passed since you had found her?

“Give me a sec. I'll drive you.”

“No, you don't need to,” she said, “I'll walk.”

“Your leg-”

“It's fine. I can walk on it,” she interrupted, “this may sound strange, but it would be an issue if you saw where I lived, so I need to go back alone.”

….. She was right in that it sounded strange, and you really didn't feel right just letting her walk back by herself. But the way she was speaking now was similar to how she was when she refused to go to a hospital, and by now you had a sense that you wouldn't be able to change her mind if that was what she decided.

“As long as you're certain about that, then okay,” you told her, “but if you change your mind halfway, you can come back and I'll help you out, alright?”

“That won't be necessary; I'll make it back,” she answered.

You stood up after she did, the both of you making your way to your front door and you opening it for her. She thanked you with a little nod of her head as she stepped out into the evening air.

“I'll come back tomorrow to give your skirt back,” she said as she looked back to you.

“There's no rush; just focus on healing up.”

You said that, and yet as she walked away, she seemed to have no trouble at all with her leg. There was no way your patch-up job had been that good, so maybe her injury wasn't as bad as you thought it was.

But even if the situation hadn't been as dire as you'd first thought, you were still worried about her.

“Shizuku,” you called out just as she reached the sidewalk. She paused, turning to look to you.

“If you do need anything – if you get hurt again or something, you can come to me. I don't mind helping you out.”

She stood there silently for a moment, taking in your words.

Then, for the first time since meeting her that afternoon, her lips curled upward in a small smile.

“Okay.”

As she had told you, Shizuku was standing at your front door when you returned from work the next day. She was holding something, though you couldn't see what, and she seemed to look a bit lost as she stood in front of your home, looking about and trying to peer through windows before she spotted you coming towards her.

“Back already?” you asked jokingly, “how's the leg?”

“It's fine,” she answered, then she held out to you what she had been holding: the skirt you had lent her yesterday, and a small bouquet of flowers.

“I wanted to return this, but I couldn't quite remember if this was where you lived or not,” Shizuku said.

“You weren't waiting long, were you?” you asked as you took the skirt she held out, briefly noting the flowers that were set on top were less like a bouquet and more like she had hastily pulled whatever she could find out of the ground as a gift for you. You just hoped she didn't take them from one of your neighbor's gardens.

“Not too long. I was just nervous about knocking on the door in case it wasn't your house,” she admitted.

“I get that. You want to come in? I'll take a look at your bandages,” you said, unlocking the front door and motioning for her to come inside.

“Okay.”

She took the same place on the couch that she had taken yesterday, waiting patiently for you as you set up the flowers she had brought and grabbed the first-aid kit. Sitting down in front of her, you prepared for the worst as you began to undo the bandages you had wrapped yesterday.

When the bandages came off, you were surprised at how clean the wound was. There was some bruising, but the places where the teeth of the trap had broken through to the skin were healing nicely.

“It looks like it isn't infected, so that's a relief,” you said, “and you're walking around fine?”

“I heal fast,” Shizuku answered as you began to re-wrap her leg with the fresh bandages.

“I wish I healed fast like that,” you said, laughing a bit as you continued “there was one time when I was in elementary school, I fell of the playground and landed on my ankle wrong. It didn't break, but I was limping for weeks afterwards.”

Shizuku stayed quiet, watching as you finished up bandaging her.

“Did you grow up here?” she asked.

“No. I moved here for my job, ah, about a year ago?” you answered, “I think it's been about a year. How about you? How long have you lived here?”

“A while.”

“Just 'a while'?”

She shrugged.

“I guess it's been years. I don't pay much attention to how long it's been.”

“I see,” you said, closing up the first-aid kit.

“Since you've lived here longer, maybe you could tell me about some good spots in this town that I've missed.”

“I wouldn't know anything about that. I usually stay home,” she said.

“Except when you're hopping over fences to restricted areas?”

“Yeah, except when I'm doing that.”

You laughed again.

“After what I saw yesterday, I think I'll be avoiding that area.”

Your tone became a bit more serious as you continued, “and I still really think you should stop doing that since it's clearly not safe.”

“I'll be okay,” she said, “what happened yesterday won't happen again.”

Damn. You really weren't going to convince her on that.

“Alright, alright,” you said, raising your hands in defeat.

Standing back up to put away the kit, you glanced over to the flowers she had brought.

“I didn't mention it earlier, but thank you for the flowers,” you said to her, “they're really pretty.”

That shy smile formed on her face, and she nodded at you.

“So,” you said once you had put away the kit, “you want to get something to eat?”

“Okay.”

She left again at the end of the evening, and she asked if she could come back the next day. Of course, you had said yes.

It became routine for her to show up at your home after you had gotten off work, always managing to arrive just after you came back. Afternoons and evenings with her were nice, filled with conversation, though more often then not you were the one doing most of the talking. At first you had thought you might be rude, but after a bit you realized that she was happy enough to listen to you talk and interject when she found it appropriate.

The subject of her life situation still worried you, however. But you tried not to dwell on it or bring it up since she didn't seem to like that. Instead, you made it apparent that you were available to talk if she wanted to. With how little she emoted, it was hard to tell if she knew that without outright telling her, but you hoped the message got across.

Days passed by peacefully and her injury had healed to the point that she didn't need the bandages anymore. There were barely any scars left over, which had surprised you, but you were just happy that she really was doing okay. But as time went on, you noticed her behavior change ever so slightly. Like she was nervous about something, or like she wanted to mention something, but as always she never said anything, assuring you that everything was as it should be.

You didn't push her, and just hoped that if something really was wrong, she would open up to you about it on her own.

You were laying face down on a tall cliff, the grass soft against your face while the sun beat down on your back. Below in the distance, you could see the town, the buildings and houses all looking smaller than your fingernail from where you lay. Mount Hulderheim was a beautiful place, you mused. The town council didn't realize what they were missing out on by not allowing people up here. Although maybe that was for the best; if they were to see how nice it was, they'd probably want to set the place up as a tourist attraction and the peaceful atmosphere would be lost. Just as well they keep forbidding anyone from coming.

Closing your eyes, you were content to keep laying there and bask in the sunlight. It wasn't often that you had the opportunity to relax like this, and you were going to make the most of it.

Then you were jolted by the feeling of sharp claws digging into your back, and you looked behind to see that a crow had landed on you, the claws on its feet carelessly breaking through the fabric of your shirt and marking up your back. It tilted its head, blinking as it looked at you and observing you in the same way you were observing it.

“Get off,” you mumbled, not wanting to immediately go to aggressive means to get it to leave. Not only were those claws still sharp, its beak was large and could probably do a lot to injure you if you weren't careful.

It squawked at you, then jumped around your back for a bit, making you hiss in pain at the way those claws kept scratching your flesh. It moved to your shoulder and looked at your back, tilting its head again.

“Get off,” you repeated, your voice raising.

It ignored you this time, blinking several times as it looked down your back.

Then it began to peck at you.

You cried out, tears forming at the pain you felt as the crow pecked at your back over and over again. Then you moved to get up and swat the damn thing.

Or at least you would have, had you been able to move.

Your arms and legs refused to work, laying stiff and heavy on the ground. You were barely able to twitch your fingers, much less reach back and get the crow away from you. There was nothing you could do as the crow continued to peck at your now-exposed skin and began to pull it off in small pieces.

Your shirt quickly became stained red with blood as it went after your flesh, picking off bits of skin and throwing them to the side only to go back for more. The remains of your shirt were decimated, and it went down your back until it reached your hips, and then returned up on your other side, pecking and pulling off your skin until it was gone, a bright red hole from below your shoulder-blades down to your waist showing off the muscles of your back that glistened as they were exposed to the sunlight.

And then the crow began to do the same to the muscles.

You watched, your mind hopelessly blank while the pain shot up through you, tears streaming down your face. You tried to move again, you really did. But it was no use; your body remained paralyzed. Beams of sun still hit your body, the peaceful atmosphere on the mountain staying the same even while this was happening to you.

When the sinews were pulled off and it reached bone, you started to scream.

You cried out for help. For someone, anyone, to save you.

But no one came. And as you looked back to your town, you could vaguely see the movements of the people there, so far away and unable to help you, completely oblivious to how you were being slowly picked to pieces.

A curtain of blood fell from the hole in your back and down your sides as you were surrounded by piles of skin, muscles, sinews and now pieces of your own spine and ribs, the bones breaking off from each other with sickening snaps before they were tossed aside like garbage.

Your voice grew hoarse and you couldn't keep screaming, accepting defeat and watching as the crow continued to work. How were you still conscious for this? How were you even still alive?

Your organs, intestines and whatever remained of your rib cage were all pulled out, joining the bloody piles by your sides. Finally, the crow stopped, perching on the edge of the hole it had created within you and twitching its head as though congratulating itself on a job well done.

Those black beady eyes looked back at you, for the first time since it started, opened its beak-

And a stream of black liquid began to fall out.

Like the faucet of a sink, the stream of the tar-like substance was steady and unending, falling from the beak of the crow and landing on and inside of you, slowly taking over the outside of your body as it filled up the hole that had just been created.

It began to engulf your shoulders, and then your neck, and then you were straining your head as best you could as the tar expanded. As you took one last gasp of breath, it took over your head completely, and when you were no longer able to hold your breath, you began to suffocate.

You woke with a start, drenched in sweat and you sat up in bed as your heart was pounding in your chest. One of your hands instantly went underneath your shirt to feel your back. What met you was the expanse of your own skin. No blood, no wounds from the beak of a crow, no massive gaping hole or an empty space where your insides should have been. You sighed in relief.

God what a fucked up dream.

You fell back onto the bed with a thump, a hand over your head as you tried to calm yourself down. It was a dream. Just a dream.

An incredibly messed-up dream which felt so real that your brain had been convinced that it was actually happening. That you really were up on that mountain getting your insides pecked out by a crow.

Anxiety swelled in you and you once again put a hand behind your back, checking once more just to make sure. Again, your skin was unmarred, and the muscles and bones beneath it were in the exact spots that they were supposed to be, confirming that it was, in fact, only a dream. Even if it felt more real than any other dream you'd ever had, there wasn't more to it than that.

Didn't mean you'd be getting back to sleep, though. You tossed and turned in your bed, but the images from your dream stayed in your mind even as you tried to will them away. At a certain point you'd needed to turn the light on because there were too many instances of you looking around your dark room and scaring yourself when you thought certain spots looked like the black tar that had engulfed you at the end.

No, you definitely wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight.

Sitting up in bed, you pulled out your laptop and mindlessly browsed the internet, trying to find whatever distraction you could to take your mind off of that awful dream.

When daylight came and you took a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you were taken aback by how much you looked like literal death. You could only remember one other instance of you looking this bad, one time several years ago when you had gotten incredibly sick.

Not wanting to worry your coworkers and still feeling tired from your lack of sleep, you called in sick to your work, and your new plan for the day was to try and relax as best you could and recover. And probably avoid going outside as much as possible so there was little chance you would need to interact with people. Right now you just really wanted to be by yourself.

But when Shizuku dropped by unexpectedly later on, you let her in without any hesitation.

“You don't look very good,” she commented after a few minutes of being there.

“I had a messed up dream,” you said.

“What happened?”

“I don't want to talk about it; it's gross,” you answered.

Shizuku hummed a reply, but didn't push you further. When you asked if she wanted to watch a movie she nodded, staying as her typical quiet self.

Hours went by as you spent time with her, watching tv or having discussions on whatever topics your brain could come up with. Anything to distract yourself.

It was evening when the alcohol had been brought out, but you couldn't remember how or why you decided to try and get drunk.

“I didn't think you were the kind to drink,” Shizuku said.

“I don't, usually. I just feel like it tonight. But you don't have to drink if you don't want to.”

“I don't mind. But I'm just not sure if that's what you should be doing right now.”

You laughed a little as you assured her “it'll be fine. Once in a while doesn't hurt.”

The evening continued, and neither of you were drinking all that much, just little sips here and there. Eventually, she asked you again about your nightmare, and this time you told her. Only a little bit, but just mentioning any of it had you feeling sick again. As expected, Shizuku didn't seem to have much of a reaction after you told her.

“That's scary,” she said.

“Yeah, it was. And all I want right now is to forget about it.”

“That's understandable.”

It was hard to tell where the turning point was, but soon you began to feel more inebriated than you were anticipating. Your speech was getting a bit more slurred, your movements sluggish and your thoughts muddy. Shizuku seemed fine, though, and she seemed to be matching every drink you had taken. You should have stopped at that point. A small voice of reason was telling you to stop before you did something stupid, but it was fun just sitting there and talking with Shizuku like you two were the only people in the world.

You should have stopped. But you didn't.

“Your necklace... That's a Saint Peter's cross, right?” you asked, leaning in closer to her. You had seen that necklace dozens of times by now, but for whatever reason, it fascinated you.

“Yeah,” she answered.

You thought it looked like it was made of gold. But that seemed unlikely. It was probably some other metal just made to look gold.

“What's it made of?”

“Not sure.”

Her voice sounded close. Maybe a bit too close.

You looked up and found that your face was inches away from hers, having lost yourself while thinking about her necklace and leaning in further than would have ever been necessary without even realizing it.

Embarrassment hit you hard when you noticed that the cross was situated right at her chest and you'd just been staring right in that area and oh God she probably thought you were a pervert with the way you'd been staring.

Bits of words began to fall from your mouth as you tried to pull back, and just that action gave you some difficulty as your body's movements were still sluggish.

God you were such an idiot and now Shizuku wasn't going to like you and-

A hand at the back of your head pulled you forward and you found your lips pressed against hers.

The action left you stunned, and you remained frozen when she pulled away. She looked as she normally did, but there was a slight flush to her face, and when you made eye contact, she smiled at you. That small smile she would only give on occasion, and in that moment you realized how much you loved seeing it.

You pulled her into a kiss that time, your hands delicately cupping her face while she placed hers on your sides. She smelled like pine and tree bark, your addled brain was able to note.

The two of you moved slow; you kept your touches feather light as your hands trailed down her neck and onto her shoulders. Her grip was slightly firmer than yours but stayed on your sides, her fingers rubbing your skin through your shirt.

This moment felt so good and sweet and warm and you loved Shizuku so much and you didn't even care that your blinds were still open and the neighbors could probably see inside you didn't care and you wanted more.

Your tongue slipped out, pressing against her lips to entice her to do the same as your arms moved to circle around her back-

She pushed you away suddenly, breaking the kiss and holding you at arms length.

Fuck fuck fuck you messed up. You did something wrong and now Shizuku didn't like you.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,” you repeated again and again, once more trying to pull yourself away and save yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Wasn't trying to make you mad-”

“I'm not mad.”

Shizuku's calm voice quieted you. Her face was still flushed but she seemed as normal as ever.

“I'm not mad. It's just....” she trailed off, looking at the half-full glasses on the coffee table, “I don't think either of us can make good decisions right now.”

She turned you so your back was facing her, and she pulled you back so you were held against her chest. Your nerves calmed as you relaxed against her, reaching up to grasp one of the hands that held you.

She was mumbling something. Something about not having any time left and needing to go back. Your dream was a sign and you'd need to go with her. You didn't understand any of it, but just hearing her voice was comforting and made you feel safe, so you ignored it.

You fell asleep like that, laying against Shizuku and her arms wrapped around you.

The sun was beating down on your form as you sat on the edge of a cliff, once more looking down at the town from a distance.

It was a dream again, you realized. It had to be. You wouldn't come up here because it wasn't allowed, nor did you remember making any journey up the mountainside. So it was a dream, and you desperately wanted to wake up before a repeat of the last one could happen.

You shut your eyes tight and then opened them. Once. Twice, and a dozen more times, but the imagery in front of you stayed the same, and you began to feel panicked as you heard the cawing of a crow in the distance. Trying to move from the spot where you were sitting proved useless, as you were once again paralyzed. This time you couldn't even move your neck, and you were forced to look forward as you heard the crow coming closer and closer.

“Please no,” you whispered, rapidly opening and shutting your eyes over and over, trying to force yourself awake as you heard it crying from right behind you. Anything but that again.

The cawing of the crow stopped suddenly.

A brief moment of silence passed, your fear and anticipation through the roof as you waited to feel that beak digging into you again.

Two small feminine hands appeared from your periphery and covered your eyes.

“It's all right,” a voice whispered in your ear.

“Shizuku?” you asked. You tried once again to look behind, but your neck stayed stiff.

“It's all right,” she repeated.

A gust of wind blew past the two of you, coming from the side and making a mess of your hair. It caused a chill to run through you, your whole body rattling as the cold wind struck you from the inside, moving through the hole in your exposed back that you hadn't realized was already there.

The first thing you were aware of was the fact that you had a slight headache. Probably a hangover that would take you a few hours to recover from while you cursed yourself for being so stupid as to drink to that point. The second thing that came to mind was the scent of earth that surrounded you. Far more woodsy than that of your room, and definitely not normal.

As you slowly opened your eyes, your slight confusion turned into a mild panic: this wasn't your room, not even close.

You had been placed on a bed that seemed to have been built into the wall, a small wooden niche within a room where the walls looked as though they were a collection of surprisingly massive tree roots. Books and various pieces of clothing were scattered throughout the room amongst the wooden furniture, making the area quite cluttered. There were no windows, but you spotted a stairway that had been carved into the roots, the wooden steps leading upwards.

Ignoring your headache, you jumped to your feet, speed-walking through the room while you stepped around mess, trying not to trip. You tried your best to stay calm; something was obviously very, very wrong for you to wake up in such a strange place, but freaking out wouldn't help anything. Right now, you just needed to figure out where you were and go from there. Thinking back to what you remembered last didn't help much – Shizuku had come by, you were certain, but nothing else beyond that. Had you been kidnapped? Were you in danger? Was Shizuku safe? Or was she in the same situation as you?

You needed to find her and then get out of here.

Just as you'd made it to the first few steps, a searing pain ripped through your back, causing you to stumble and fall as you cried out. It felt like your back was on fire, rippling up and down your spine and eating into your muscles, leaving you sweating and like you were about to throw up. You grasped at the edge of a step, unable to do much else as the pain continued.

“You shouldn't get up.”

A voice above you spoke, and you looked up to find Shizuku standing on the upper steps, a medium-sized wooden bucket resting against her hip as she stared down at you.

“Sh-Shizuku,” you breathed, “help... It hurts.....”

“I know.”

Shizuku walked the rest of the way down the stairs, setting the bucket down on the floor before she knelt next to you, pulling one of your arms off of the steps and slinging it around her neck, her other hand going down to hold you by your waist. She hoisted you up that way with little effort. Despite the burning sensation you felt, small “thank you”s left your lips as you held onto her, your legs trembling as you tried to gain a good footing on the stairs, eager for her to carry you up.

But instead of going up the stairs, Shizuku turned both of you around and began to lead you back to the bed.

“W-wait! Shizuku, we need to leave!” you protested.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, 'why'? Someone kidnapped us! We need to figure out where we are and get help!”

“We don't need to do that,” Shizuku answered as she set you back on the bed. You let out a small hiss of pain as she did so, supporting yourself on shaking arms as she stood before you.

“We're on the mountain,” she told you, “and no one kidnapped us. I brought you here. This is my home.”

“..... What? What are you talking about? Why would you do this?” you asked, bewildered.

“Hmm. I think it'll be easier if I just show you.”

With her hands gripping the hem of her shirt, Shizuku turned her back to you and lifted the fabric up until it reached her shoulder-blades.

At that moment, the only thing that could be heard in that room was your labored breathing that only increased when you registered what you were seeing.

A hole.

There was an honest-to-God hole in the middle of her back.

The jagged edges resembled that of tree bark, brown and cracked and a clear roughness to it before it smoothed out into human skin. The edges stuck out slightly as well, peeling outward as though something had at one point busted through, leaving this as the unfortunate aftermath. But within the hole was nothing; no bones, no muscle, no organs or anything, just a smooth, empty space within her that looked like a hollowed out tree.

You couldn't get any words out. It made no sense. There was no way that Shizuku could be alive in the way she was, missing so many vital organs and even her spine, no one could be alive after losing all of that.

But the woman who turned her head to look back at you was definitely living, and even breathing despite her lack of lungs.

“See?”

She tilted her head at you in that way you had grown to love, and you found yourself trying to focus on that instead of the impossible situation that stood before you.

“.... I don't understand,” you finally whispered.

“I don't either, really,” Shizuku admitted with a sigh, pulling down her shirt as she turned to face you.

“I think I've been here a long time, but I don't remember how I got here. I forgot,” she said, “I don't know why it happens, but it looks like any woman that stays on this mountain for too long ends up this way.

“That's probably why the town blocked it off,” she mused, “I don't think they know why it happens or what to do about it, so it's probably easier for them to just forbid access to try and keep anyone else ending up like me or the others.”

“Others?” you asked, still not fully understanding what she was saying.

“Yeah. There used to be others up here, but it's just me now,” Shizuku explained.

“Wh-where did they go?”

Shizuku shrugged.

“Not sure. Maybe they found a way to break the curse, or maybe they just died.”

For the first time since you awoke, you perked up, ignoring the possibility of the other women being dead and just focusing on the first part.

“We could try to find them, Shizuku. If we can talk to one of them, maybe we can figure it out, too.”

Shizuku's eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“To break the curse, like you said! If we find one of them and they tell us how they did it, you won't have to be like this anymore. And then maybe the both of us could live together, you wouldn't have to be alone up here,” you insisted.

Her expression was blank as she stared at you wordlessly.

“I think you've misunderstood a few things,” she said after a moment.

“I don't know if it is possible to fix this; for all I know, those others are dead. But even if there was a way to change this, I wouldn't do it. I don't mind being this way. I like it up here. I think that's why the others didn't like me much: they wanted to leave and I was happy to stay here. And I thought I wouldn't mind when they all eventually left, but...”

She trailed off, sighing as she looked up in thought.

“The loneliness started to get to me,” she admitted, “you don't realize how much you need someone else with you until you're completely alone.”

Shizuku smiled shyly then, looking back at you.

“But now you're here. We can stay up here together.”

Your mind wanted to focus on the way she was smiling at you and how rare it was for her to show emotion like that. Anything that wasn't what you had seen and what she had said. But there was no way you could just go along with this like nothing was wrong.

“Shizuku,” you began, “I can't stay up here. I'm not like you.”

“Mm. And I think that's where you've misunderstood again,” she said, her small smile vanishing.

“I said it earlier: it happens to any woman who stays on the mountain. That pain you're feeling? That means it's started.”

She stepped to the side, grabbing a small hand mirror that had been sitting on a shelf before she sat down next to you. When she pulled your shirt up and over your head, you protested, but the words quickly died in your throat when you glanced at the mirror she had facing your back.

Your skin had hardened and cracked, outlined in pieces as though it was the bark of a tree, starting from the middle of your spine and spreading outward. The pain you had been experiencing was forgotten during Shizuku's explanation but reignited at the sight of that, the skin of your back burning and making you lurch forward, gripping the sheets as you were almost driven to tears. Shizuku held the mirror still, and when you looked back again you saw that the cracks had spread further.

“You should lay back down. It's a long process, and it's going to hurt,” Shizuku said, setting aside the mirror and gently pushing you until you were laying on your front. Unclipping your bra and pushing it out of the way, her hands lightly trailed down your spine, lingering near the middle, where the bits of skin had hardened completely and the edges were curling up, ready to break off.

She only left your side to retrieve the bucket she had left by the stairway, and after she had settled herself on the bed with you, Shizuku began to break the pieces off, tossing them into the bucket.

No blood came from your wounds, but you were in no state to think about that as you screamed against the mattress and Shizuku continued to pull the pieces off of you, what was once your skin resembling a pile of woodchips as they were thrown away.

Shizuku diligently worked, pausing once in a while to hold your hand, ruffle your hair, or to lean down and kiss you on the cheek as she reassured you that it would be okay.

By the time your bones were ready to be removed you had passed out.

[qweenvamp]

Netflix Review Series: Last Shift (2014)

APOLOGIES FOR MY ABSENCE I KNOW I’M A PIECE OF SHIT

Oh hey look! It’s my first sorta official review on this blog! Let’s all pray I don’t fail miserably! 

(this first little bit is an intro, if you wanna skip to the actual review a few paragraphs down, I won't be mad. pinky promise). 

As a recent college grad with very little semblance of what most would call “a life”, I watch quite a bit of Netflix. While I mainly stick to only 2 genres that the site has to offer (if you guessed horror and anime, good job. you read my ‘about’ section and know I’m an otaku garbage can. gold star for you), my narrow focus has allowed me to dive pretty far into the depths of what’s available in these categories. And man oh man, I’ve seen some shit. One interesting thing about Netflix is that it has no real standards for what they choose to stream. The only non-straight-up-porn movie I’ve ever read about them refusing to carry is A Serbian Film (which is a whole disgusting can of worms I plan on writing a post about later), but other than that, it’s really a scary, scary guessing game in terms of what you’re gonna get. I’m not usually one of those “let’s just give it a chance” kinda movie watchers. I can pretty much tell if I’m gonna like something or not within the first 10 minutes, and if I don’t, it’s immediately on to the next. But to everyone else who has a harder time making up their mind so quickly, it can be a bit confusing, and before you know it you’ve just sat through a two hour fuck fest of terrible writing, horrendous acting, and even worse direction, and you begin to question what exactly it is you’re doing with your life while staring into the empty can of pringles you just ingested all in one sitting, crumbs all over your face and shirt and grease all up on your fingers. Look at you. You slob. 

But never fear, this is where I come in to keep this terrifying scenario from happening to you! My plan is to do a weekly (or bi-weekly, if I can manage it) review of the finest, and not-so-finest, Netflix has to offer in horror films and TV. I’m mainly going to focus on movies you may or may not have heard of, as Netflix does, thankfully, carry some of the classics (which if you haven’t checked out, what the hell are you doing here?), but as I said, I’d rather talk about the films you’ve maybe had in your queue for a little while but you’re unsure of whether or not you wanna give it a chance. Because I’m sure you’ve got much much much more important things going on in your life and can’t be bothered to take the hour and a half out of your day to just watch the damn movie and get it over with. Right pringle face? Ok, done rambling. Without further a-do, here’s my very first horror review on this blog!! Oh boy!!!!!!

REVIEW STARTS HERE ***contains some spoilers***

Browsing around Netflix looking for a good horror film to watch can be a bit of an onerous task. Basically, all you have to go off of is their not-so-accurate star rating system, a short, jazzy little description (seriously who the fuck writes those??) and the movie poster, both of which can be entirely misleading in terms of what you’re gonna get. Scrolling around the horror section, the image for Last Shift caught my eye. Netflix was telling me I’d rate it 3 stars out of 5, (you don’t know me like that, Netflix), but I gotta admit, I see some sort of Satanic element like a pentagram or some shit, and I’m pretty much sold.  Reading the description, I was also happy to see that the main character was a female police officer, so maybe she’d be a little less stupid and arm flail-y than your average direct-to-DVD horror heroine. I decided to give it a shot. 

Basically, the story is that a rookie cop is given the task of babysitting an old police station that’s about to close as things get set up at the new station down the street. The twist is, she’s all by herself and has to stay there throughout the entire night to make sure nothing crazy is happening, and needless to say, crazy things start happening. 

My first impression was, “wow, this is a lot like John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13, but with ghosts!” And, as I continued to watch, I began to have more and more of these moments where I would be completely reminded of a device used in another film (for example, the main character walks into a room, then walks out, turns around, and sees all the chairs stacked into a tower on top of a table. Poltergeist, anyone? And, I won’t say who, but another character is revealed to actually have been dead the entire time, but in an entirely The Sixth Sense fashion.) While there’s certainly nothing wrong with paying homage to the horror greats of the past, using these kinds of tricks over and over again to compensate for a lack of originality is a big no-no in my book, and I can certainly imagine that the most hardcore of your horror fans might find it a little distasteful. Did Last Shift 100% without a doubt do this? It’s hard to tell. The whole plot is centered around a very Manson-esque family that’s come back to haunt our lead heroine, so that in and of itself is taking inspiration from an outside source, but I do think the film contained enough creative and disturbing imagery to somewhat satisfy my standards for originality. 

For instance, there are some wonderfully tense and downright creepy scenes about halfway through the movie that did mess with my head a little, and a few good jump scares that featured some great makeup work, especially from what I assume to be a lower budget on that front. Now let me be clear, I’m not really a fan of the jump scares. They’re fun and exhilarating in the moment, but throwing them in by the bucket load does not a good horror film make. What I find most disturbing, is when things seem to be out of place, but you can’t exactly put your finger on why. Our brain doesn’t know how to register them, or specifically why they are disturbing to us, and that is what makes them terrifying. I need my horror films to have at least some of this, or I can’t really rate them anything above ‘mediocre’. Last Shift kind of passed the test. I won’t go into too many specifics, but I think this film did a particularly good job of building up the eerie tension in the first quarter or so, and had some very bizarre scenes with a homeless man that will leave you scratching your head, and also a little disturbed. 

However, at about the halfway point, you start figuring out the backstory, and things start becoming less mysterious. The film begins to focus mainly on the ripoff Mansons, and the the solid performance put out by Juliana Harkavy in the main role is somewhat overshadowed by over-acting of the “Paymon Family” who are just trying wayyyyyy too hard to be evil, which ends up coming across a little comical. The last half hour or so turns into this very mind-fucky, dizzying labyrinth of ghosts and gore, which, reading that back, sounds fucking awesome, but in the actual movie it just winds up being kinda frustrating. It seemed as though the filmmakers gave up on the plot a little, or just didn’t know how to end it, which was a huge letdown at a moment when I was craving some sort of justice for the main character (who’s actually fairly well fleshed-out and likable) or SOME kind of resolution... and I got nothing. Well, that’s not entirely true. I got an ending that PISSED ME OFF TO NO END. I won’t tell you what happened, but let’s just say I haven't been as angry at a horror movie since I saw 1408, which, if I could erase any movie from my head, it might just be that absolute piece of dreck. Now, this wasn’t quite as bad as the aforementioned film which I do not want to call by name again lest I have terrifying flash backs of how god awful it was, but it was far from satisfying, especially when things up until that point weren’t half bad.

Overall, is Last Shift anything to write home about? No. But is it better than probably 75% of what’s in Netflix’s limited horror selection? I’d say yea, probably. A good acting job from Juliana Harkavy, some very good and gory makeup, and a nice build-up of tension and general creepiness in the first act of the film are almost cancelled out by the film’s so-so second act and the lazy, messy third, but not quite. I’ll sum it all up with what my mom told me after she finished watching it: “It was alright, but why didn’t she ever just leave the damn station?”

3/5 Stars