Who? Who?

This is the question I kept hearing as I walked through the early autumn evening. Though the inquiry came from an owl, the faux question stayed with me, nonetheless. Who am I? Do I even have a purpose?

Thoughts raced through my head as I walked into the oncoming bitterness. Do I add anything to this world? Or do I merely deplete its oxygen? I paused, afraid of thinking about the answer.

A hissing whisper floated up through the discarded leaves of the forest floor, "That's right, you're not special, are you?"
The eerie silence survived only by the volume of my embittered heart, I'm sure there must be something special about me...
Oppressive, stifling, and heavy; the sense of the darkness in my mind--my being--manifested behind me.
"You're doubtful. Even now as you speak, you know what I say to be what you truly believe," the shadow purred.

Just because I'm not somebody, doesn't mean I'm a Nobody, I thought, weakly.

"Perhaps you are not a Nobody, the shadow paused, relishing in the moment. But are you capable of being a somebody?"

I thought back to my dear friends who were now estranged from me. They all had jobs, families, lives, and purpose. I had watched them grow and prosper; to become something--to become somebodies. While I held myself back to become... me.

Do I even have a purpose?


_________________________________


It's pretty spooky to be a Nobody; life can seem so uncertain.

My avatar is inspired by a horror short story that I own but cannot locate at the moment in this housefull of books. I remember the author is principally a science fiction writer--perhaps Theodore Sturgeon?

It's a horror story about jealousy, set during the holiday season. Since this site is for ages 13 and up, I will not give a synopsis of the story but only post the last line: "Louise was decorating the tree."

Tyresia the Dragon Mother



Legend has it, that Tyresia the Dragon Mother is the first Dragon of Sylestia. Normally keeping to herself, and tending to many children, there is but one time of the year you stand a good chance of seeing her. Every year, around the Fall Festival, Tyresia descends from her home, to mix with the mortals, and enjoy a little trick-or-treating. During that time, she will assume her partially human form, complete with wings, tail, horns, and clothes from the leaves of the ever burning ash tree. She will often take one of her children with her, so that they may get to learn more about the mortals they share the world with.

It was a matter of corruption. Of infestation.The twisting of body and spirit by the parasite sat upon his back. The skin of his face grown hard and barklike an unrecognizable. Keep our home safe, he had asked hte forest. The forest had answered. He was separate now - a monster in the darkness of the woods, a puppet for its protection, using magic and wiles to kill any who would try to destroy it. He hunted the hunters now, the intruders.

They hurt the forest, these people who had been his kin. These and only these he would scare - and nothing else. Drive away to tell more stories, to guide their steps and actions as the forest's bogeyman. The forest could devour the others for all he cared, winding and twisting branches grasping at them, the work of the insects. But those? Something in him remembered - remembered and knew they were not to be the forests next meal.

You, on the paths, in the shadows? You are another story.

Ice Lord


Because I like Ice, so why not?

The Lost Soul

*drip*
Two bodies huddled together try to hide their trembling, not wanting the ghastly creature to find them.
*drip*
Neither dares to breath, afraid theyll gag on the smell of rotting flesh.
*drip*
As the creature walks past one foolishly sighs in relief and finds an axe buried in the wall between them. The two scream as the creature appears before them, its sightless eyes boring into their souls.
RUN!!! One yells as the two scatter.
Tentacles shoot out of the creatures back and ensnare one of the fleeing prey. Help me!!! She begs, but he just keeps running. Thinking he is safe, he hides behind a crumbling wall a to catch his breath.
*drip*
He tenses up and glances around in horror, trying to find the creature before it finds him.
*drip*
Spotting the blood-red tip of a horn, he makes a run for it, only to find those horrific tentacles coiling around him.
*drip*
The next instant the creature is before him, grinning, the black thread pulling harshly at pale skin. He barely notices that, instead transfixed by how the jewel in the bone-like flower dangling from the creatures horn glows.
*drip*
With a swing of the axe, the jewel glows brighter and the creature retreats into the night, looking for its next victim.

The Gatekeeper

Standing watch at the gateway to the land of the dead, the Gatekeeper's blind watch is guided only by the scent of decay. Any living soul who dares to try and enter the land of the dead will quickly be struck down by the cursed blade the guardian wields and their spirit locked away inside the blade's depths. The dead need not fear him, but should the living encounter this fiend, then they are about to meet a fate worse than death.

Amirissa The Spider Runt

She crept along the cave floor, runt of the spider colony. Amirissa sighed. She'd never live up to her hundreds of brothers and sisters. Her parents probably didn't even know she was alive. It was luck that she was still here today, but she didn't know how long that luck would continue to shine...

Drarga, the Witch of the Bog



There is a witch in the bog. If you walk by the swamp alone in the early morning, you'll hear a seductive female voice calling out to you. The voice will sound familiar, but you won't be able to place it, and she will know your name. If you are foolish enough to approach, Drarga will emerge out of the water and smirk at you. That's the last thing you'll see. Some say she eats you, some say she drags you down until you drown, but the only thing we know for sure is that you will not escape.