⚠️ warning: mature content, including gore, abuse, mental illness( small scale),sexual relations, and some beastial play between protagonist and the wendigo
"Heed this child of thorn,
From whence they came,
'Twas the darkness born.
Unite with beast...
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(A/n: Sooo Corvus keeps freaking hiding and brooding in a corner. I dragged him out by his ear.
You're welcome.
I beg of you to play this song. It's just soooo fitting for Corvus.)
🐏
One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for silver, Six for gold, Seven for a secret, Never to be told. Eight for a wish, Nine for a kiss, Ten for a bird, You must not miss.
-"One For Sorrow", a children's nursery rhyme about magpies.
🐏
Rain pounds on the asphalt around me like needles, piercing my skin through my thin nightclothes. I abandoned my robe a while back, unable to get the image of it covered in gore out of my mind.
I've run without stopping for so long my legs are quivering with fatigue and I'm in an unfamiliar part of town. It's further than I've ever gone before, in the more questionable part of Dreamsong. All around me are scattered derelict buildings with boarded up windows and bars on the doors. The few lights that come from them reflect on the rain coated street I'm running on.
I haven't been able to stop crying since I ran away from my home in flames and my dad who couldn't see me.
I run three more blocks when gunshots sound off in the distance. My feet stop on the asphalt. I hug Bah-dley tightly to my chest, burying my tear ridden face in his head. The gunshots aren't what stops me, they aren't any concern of mine tonight.
Fearing gunshots right now seems so silly in light of everything else that's happened.
A maddening fear has made itself at home in my chest, clenching around my heart like thorny vines. I can't handle this. I'm too scared.
I can handle the odd appearances of people that are probably not human. I can handle not knowing if they are real or a dream. It's all worth it, all of the confusion and doubt, simply because it makes me happy to have their company no matter how brief some of their visits have been.
What I can't handle are monsters trying to eat me who live under my bed. I can't handle dreams with emotionless entities who speak in riddles and brand me like cattle. I can't handle waking up to a living nightmare. I can't handle going through the mind games monsters like to play. I can't handle seeing things others for some reason can not. I can't handle being just as invisible as the creatures that are haunting me.
