"ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪɢʜᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴜʀᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜱᴏᴜʟ."
Tastrim is a town of God, a close-knit community isolated within a forest-clad valley. When winter comes and the pass is filled with snow, folk light their fires, lock their...
"Who is wisest, and best, and fittest to dispose of all men's lives? Is it God or you?" –Richard Baxter
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Songs:
Resident Evil 7 Soundtrack - 25 Saferoom
Emotional Music - Hollow Hearts
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I clapped my hand over my gaping mouth in horror, and managed to choke down my scream. It took me but a moment to realize the corpse before us was just that – a corpse, long dead and no threat to us. It took me another moment to realize that Mason's arm had immediately gone around me, both bracing me and . . . defending me.
The tensed muscles in his arm uncoiled as we both realized what we were looking at. With slow, cautious steps we approached, taking in the scents of age and decay, must and dust.
Mason dared to utter it first. "Is . . . is that . . ?"
"Danielle," I whispered. "Yes. Yes I think it is."
The ancient, dehydrated body was slumped in a chair in the middle of the room. Long gray hair hung limp over her shoulders, covering fabric that was too old and brittle to be of a discernable color or pattern. Her arms were laid upon the chair's arms, little more than bone. Her skeletal face was sunken and grey, her eyeballs like shriveled, pale grapes. Then I realized something that sent goosebumps up my spine.
She was chained to the chair. Runes had been carved in the floorboards in a circular pattern beneath her, and her hands . . .
Her hands had been cut off.
"Someone killed her," I said, in utter disbelief. "Someone killed her! Someone who knew how to properly kill a witch . . . how to make sure she couldn't recover. . ."
We were both left speechless for several long moments as we stared at her. The blessed Seer, Danielle, protector of the pilgrims, founder of Tastrim. Not just long dead but murdered. Undoubtedly heinously murdered. My heart shuddered as I realized how much she reminded me of Witch Mother sitting there, with her long gray hair. Mason knelt down, and stared up into her face.
