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Number of posts : 269
Registration date : 2009-06-12

PostSubject: Mist   Sat Mar 27, 2010 4:40 am

The man was hastily stomping through the forest. A while ago, it suddenly turned dark; the evening had arrived before he could find his way out of this part of the woods. Of course, being the hunter he was, he had been chasing several kinds of animals, in hopes of returning home with a nice amount of meat. It had led him to abandon his original plan, which was staying closer to his little home. Ah well… He would get there soon; had been living here for a long time already since he decided to leave the stench of the battlefields and live a solitary life, away from what some would call the torture of fighting. A hand stroke over his wavy dark brown hair. Sometimes, bits of old memories of another life with a woman crossed his mind. They did show up, now and then, however, their meaning had since long toned down to pitiful sigh. Often they tended to cause nothing. They did not hurt him. Never had he wondered about how it had continued further over there, after his depart. Or perhaps he had forgotten it. A harsh curse disturbed the silence for a moment, quickly followed by an unhealthy sounding cough, for the air had rushed out of his lungs in the surprise. He stumbled over a rotten piece of wood. Murmuring incoherent words to himself, he bent down, as far as his old rusty bones permitted him to do that, and inspected the wood. “Weird”, his deep voice stated to no one in particular except perhaps himself, “looks like one heck of a huge shiny blob.” Indeed, Roland’s vision had worsened as the years passed. A long time ago, it felt like a previous life, he had been a loyal warrior. Fighting for whoever paid him. Perhaps not that loyal after all, he had to admit to himself. Anything for money, no room for regrets. The man could be considered to be as good as blind without his precious glasses. In that same previous life, there had happened a certain accident, causing him to lose most of his sight. What he could see, were only dark colors that were permanently mixing themselves in an eternal chaotic dance. Right now, a big crimson spot was the only thing he could discern on what he knew was the moist forest earth. His hand reached down his jacket’s pocket, fingers immediately grasping around the chilly glasses. The hand slightly shook, as he carefully put them on. A hazy vision is what met his eyes. He cursed again, taking them off his nose. As he rambled on, to himself, Roland carefully cleaned it a little. “Now… Let’s see”

It was so silent… At first it would have seemed pleasant and maybe even relaxing, but then gradually, though with an effective precision, the cold tension tightened its harsh clench around your throat and mind. What Roland felt, however, could be described as an icy cold river in which he was drowning. Dark blue eyes widened with utter revulsion as he stared in horror at what he had stumbled over. It was a young woman, naked, and the ‘shiny blob’ clearly was the blood that covered her pale skin. It was almost a tender sight, how she limply laid stretched out on the dark earth. Her stomach, in fact the whole front, had been cruelly slashed open; various crushed bones of a sickening mixed white-yellow-red color were sticking through her skin, flesh and the mashed bloody heap that once formed the internal parts of her body. It smelled horribly, her face as well, once perhaps stunning, had been cut open beyond recognition. What appeared to have been her mouth, it looked more like a gaping bloody hole without tongue, was distorted in an anguished scream. Roland stumbled backwards, frantically clenching a hand over his mouth to keep it shut. Sweat started to appear on his brow. This couldn’t be real. No. It simply couldn’t. He turned around, tearing his eyes off the gruesome revelation. Heavy breathing disturbed the intense silence. The tall man moved his head to the left a little, glancing back. His eyes, they seemed glued to the dead body, the awful wounds. To her face. Gorgeous and lengthy was her dark hair that flowed around her head. It seemed to be the only thing untouched by death, misery and pain. Then he suddenly noticed it. “Dear God”, he whispered, leaning against one of the many trees as he trembled, “what for heaven’s sake am I supposed to do…” The female’s eyelids. They had been harshly torn off, the uneven rims of flesh around the eyeballs painfully soaked in blood and what appeared to be tears. The color of her eyes, a deep brown, he noticed, had not faded yet. As he suspected, she couldn’t have been dead for a long time; the blood still slowly trickled further, glistened in the rare specks of moonlight. A little breeze cooled him off. It felt pleasantly refreshing, although his heart still pumped insanely fast at the sudden turn of events. The lack of absolute hysteria, he thought, might be due to similar experiences in the past. “No”, he growled, refusing to think of that. What could have possibly inflicted such terrible wounds? Nausea made his stomach knot together. The smell and absolutely terrifying sight… It overwhelmed him.

Another light breeze caressed his hair and clothes. He lifted up his head, intending to feel more of the pleasant wind when he saw it. A lone figure, simply standing a bit further in the woods. “Hello?” His voice weakly called out. It disappeared. He shook his head, and then stared again. No trace. He sighed, rubbing his temples for a moment. A surge of warm air suddenly warmed his neck; it felt as if soft, warm lips were tenderly leaving their gentle impression on his skin... The place where he had felt the warmth started to tingle, giving him goose bumps in a way he did not like. Roland rapidly turned around, completely tensing up. Nothing. A pair of hands slowly stroked his back. Again, he twisted around. She was a bit smaller than him; long dark brown curls reached her middle, and striking green eyes appeared to nail him to the ground. There was this stare in her eyes that made her seem on the verge of insanity and absolute tranquility. It was strange and undoubtedly peculiar, the dress she wore. If he did not know better, he would say that it seemed to exist out of some sort of shadow. The dress was pitch-black, hugging her curves in the most beautiful of ways. It seemed to flow around her, although she herself did not move, and somehow tangle itself within the other, surrounding shadows. Or were the shadows being pulled towards the female. “Who are you?” He heard himself manage to utter. No answer. Not even the slightest of movements. He backed off a little, feet slowly taking some steps back. “Listen”, he started, “I don’t want any trouble.” The woman kept staring. The cold green gaze seemed to pry into his very soul. A smile. It graced her features, her lips, never reaching her eyes that simply stayed icy and unmoving as a ceaselessly frozen flame. His own eyes widened in fear, quickly, he turned around and started to run. As fast as he could. He cast a glance behind him. She still stood there. Waiting, it seemed. Then, as if a sign had been given, all shadows were suddenly pulled towards her, engulfing her as they spun faster and faster around her lone figure. They imploded. Gone was the woman. He ran, as fast as he could. Twigs and thorns scratched his face and arms as he made his way. His muscles were burning, legs protesting. What Roland had not noticed, however, was how shadows seemed to thicken, how they became a mist-like substance that only got thicker and faster as it caught up on the fleeing man. He could not do anything but slow down, the erratic breathing making it almost impossible to sprint further. That was the cue. The dark mist, unnoticeable in the shadows of the woods, gathered itself in a chaotic compact sort of ball, it got smaller, smaller…

Roland anxiously glanced around. He had felt it, the change of tension. His heart was pounding in his head. There. In the distance, she was wandering towards him. Leisurely coming closer. A tree hid her figure for the fraction of a moment. He blinked. And she was gone. The mist struck forwards, at high speed, greedily reaching out for him. Before he could notice it, the dark substance had completely spun itself around him, forcefully holding him there. To his own sheer horror, he could not move an inch. On his lower jaw and right cheek, he suddenly felt it again; long sharp nails slowly, teasingly, drawing blood from his skin. He tried to scream, God did he try, but no sound passed his lips. He prayed, begged God to release him, to help him and stop this insanity. He felt her breath next to his ear, the female chuckled a little before she parted her lips. “How amusing”, the woman mockingly whispered, “yet He stays dreadfully silent, is it not…” It was clear. No answer from God. The mist spun faster around them, becoming even thicker. He shut his eyes as she started to laugh and moved even closer to his back. She hugged him, from behind, simply pressing her own body against his. Both of her hands traveled bit by bit from his cheeks to his eyes, slowly stroking his face. She stared intensely at the back of his head as she rapidly grabbed his eyelids and ripped them off, accompanied by the sickening sound of tearing flesh. He did scream. Blood gushed down from his face. He could not close his eyes any longer; there was no way to escape. The female licked her lips, carelessly letting the two small bits of flesh fall on the ground as her hand, which looked more like a bloody claw than anything else, unexpectedly lashed forwards and embedded itself deep within his body. After the initial expression of surprise, it immediately got replaced by an indescribable pain that took over all his senses. Her hand struck forward again with full force, this time it hacked through his body, appearing at the other side, out of his chest. It was crimson red. Rolands clothes were efficiently being drenched in his own gushing blood. It felt as if it went on endlessly.

She tore him open, torturing his body in the most painful ways. Only her relaxed breathing and sickening sounds of his ruination disturbed the pressing silence. Breaking bones, ripping apart muscle and organs… No mercy was reserved for him. She licked her lips, narrowing her eyes a little. Slowly, causing him horrendous amounts of pain, she retracted her hand from where it was sticking out of his chest. It clasped itself around something, inside his chest. His mouth opened to let out a mute scream. His heart, although beating weakly, obviously still was intact. Good. This was a nightmare. It was not real. Roland could only stare, stare in front of him, up to the sky and what he desperately hoped was heaven. Blood started to cake around his eyeballs, that were drying out. One last time, her clench increased its force around the precious organ inside his chest. She could feel it, how the beating slowed down, how warm blood was being pumped out of it and trickled down from her hand, all the way to her arm. The red lines of blood contrasted with her own ivory appearance. A strange sigh unexpectedly went over his body, which instantly became limp and dropped lifelessly on the ground. The woman immediately ceased her actions; the mist surrounded her again, faster and faster as she waited, blood dripping from her hands. More shadows, more mist, came and spiraled around her, making her one with the shadows here, invisible to the normal eye. The wildly moving substance jerked towards the mutilated body, dissolving as the it touched his eyes. Roland was left behind there, alone, and forever staring up to the sky with the empty gaze in his eyes while his still warm blood seeped deeper and deeper into the earth.
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