Where Roses Go To Die Draft 2

Here are parts 2 and 3 of the draft so far. I have gone back to touch up and edit a few things in 1, let me know if you all want me to re-post that as well.

Mashiah had begun to slip out into the darkness, on her way to look for a potential necromancer teacher. She had heard of a few dark magicians living out in the woods and had seen a few houses in the distance while attending a friend’s funeral once. Despite being of wealth, Mashiah conversed with people of all walks and statuses. She had maybe 2 friends in her life and one, Dorthy had passed away two years ago.

Her head was swimming with memories of Dorthy when a familiar voice came from the direction of the gate. It pulled her back to reality, away from her friend’s smiling face and memories of summers in the shade. The voice pulled her back into the dark of the world outside.

“Hey Bones, where are you heading?” Klara had stepped out of the darkness, a bit closer so Mashiah could see her better. Of course her large chest had been the first parts of her illuminated by the light of a nearby street lantern.

Klara had permission to be a shameless flirt at her age. She had already been wed and widowed, so by society rules it was her right to be a slut. Or at least that’s how Mashiah thought of it. If Mashiah had flirted openly with so many men and even slept with them, she would be shamed by the community at large. Meanwhile because Klara married some old pervert, knowing full well he had one leg in the grave, and he died of natural causes, she had sympathy and could do as she pleased.

“I’m running away to join the carnival. You want to come with?” Mashiah shot back in her best sarcastic tone. Deep down she was angry. “With that bit of stubble you got growing, they, might let you be the bearded lady.”

Klara shot a hand to her face for a quick feel and noticed the smirk on Mashiah’s face. At one point they were best friends. They knew each other’s secrets as children and Klara’s biggest insecurity is that she would grow facial hair like her mother and grandmother had. Her fear of being fat, old and with a beard was something she shared in secret to her then best friend.

“Fuck you Bones!” Klara spat back, dropping her hand back to her side. “

The nickname bones use to cut deep for Mashiah, but over the years, and others using the name like verbal stones to throw at her, she had learned to let it just roll off. If they don’t see you cry, it’s not fuel for their fires. This strategy worked on others, but Klara still used the name.

“I would have to get in line I guess” Mashiah smiled. “Seems you have a lot of fucking to do.”

Klara was the one to laugh at this time. “Jealous? I get knocked around just right and enjoy it. You had what, one sad one nighter and a shitty pretend boyfriend?”

Mashiah’s jaw clenched. She didn’t have time to fight with Klara.

“Yeah, I guess you got me there. You have fun getting knocked around until your knocked up or your pussy falls out.” Mashiah turned to leave when she felt Klara’s sharp nails dig into her arm.

“You stupid little…” Klara was swiping the other hand at Mashiah’s face from the side.

In one quick move, Mashia ducked to avoid the swiping hand then raised back up, bringing the top of her head crashing into Klara’s chin,

Klara let go quickly and stumbled back. She was holding her chin and groaning, wet blood seeped out from between her lips.

“I got places to be.” Mashiah quickly scurried off into the darkness, leaving Klara screaming at her in the distance. Some threats and gibberish mixed in. It wasn’t important.

Mashiah was laughing inside as she took off into the dark, while the top of her head throbbed. That bitch’s chin felt like it was made of stone.

Into the dark:

Mashiah had no map, or guide, only memory. She remembered seeing a cottage in the distance at one point during her friend’s funeral. There was smoke slowly drifting from the chimney, so there had to be someone there. She knew it was dangerous to just walk up to someone’s home in the dark, in super dangerous woods, and just knock on the door and ask, “hey are you a necromancer? I am looking to be your apprentice” and expect to not get a knife or wand pulled on you. It was stupid, and foolish, and yet she was still going for it.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness but to see better, she placed the tips of her fingers to her opened eyes, whispered an incantation. He fingertips stung against her eyeballs, and she could feel the sticky wet of them on her fingers, but it was how the spell was done. Magic wasn’t always pleasant or pretty. When she pulled her fingers away, she could see better in the dark. It wasn’t quite night vision, but low light vision. It was better than a sharp stick to the eye for sure and she could use that with her other senses to look for threats.

Making her way down the beaten path used for funerals, Mashiah watched her feet for Fire Mice, and snakes, or other such creatures. The little ones you didn’t want to step on otherwise you might get bit, stung, or impaled in the foot. Thistle Snakes* could do all three.

The woods were quiet and still around her. The air held a slight chill but it wasn’t unbearable. Off in the distance came the cry of some creature. She didn’t know all the animals by sound the way her father did, but she was sure it was a Voxe*.

* Thistle Snake: A long serpent like creature that can grow to be about 3 feet in length, with long spines that grow along it’s back for protection. They also have a venomous bite, that if not treated can cause one’s flesh to rot around the bite. The same for the stinger at the end of their tail. Despite how dangerous they are, they are elusive and docile creatures who prefer to bask on rocks in moonlight and avoid human contact all costs.

*Voxe: A dog like creature, long and lanky in stature, they are agile and fast and hunt in pairs. They come in many coat colors but most commonly bright red with white paws and large bushy white tails. They have a cry or call that sounds almost like a woman in distress calling for help. Much like the foxes of our world, they can also be tamed as pets but not recommended.

Some time had passed before Mashiah saw the silhouette of the cabin in the trees. She was relived and had to admit that her heart had been racing for a long while. The woods were scary at night and despite feeling brave at first, there were times and sounds that she was a moment away from pissing herself and climbing a tree.

There were no lights or smoke from the chimney, but it was summer after all. Her heart thumped hard in her chest as she walked toward the cabin, hand ready to knock, stomach in knots.

As she drew closer, her eyes and her low light vision spell, allowed her to see it better. The back half of the cabin was, not. It was gone. Mashiah walked around the back of the cabin to see the back opened up to the world outside, it’s inner contents thrown and torn to shreds. It was as if a great wind came and tore the back half away and tossed it into the brush behind it.

Her eyes scanned the wreckage. Some dishes, clothing, a stuffed Voxe doll with little red button eyes. Her heart sank when she saw the dark stain on what remained of the wooden floor. It wasn’t a great wind, but a great beast that was here. Something had tore this cabin apart and got to those who lived inside. Her eyes settled on something among a pile of books and papers. She knelt down to poke at it and recoiled quickly.

Despite being interested in the dead and dark of the world, she was not among those who cheered for death and gore. The little hand that lay under the books was still, squishy. Cold but not hard to the tough yet. This was recent.

As that thought sank in, while she looked at the hand of the child who once lived here, her attention drawn and the world around her ignored, a set of eyes came from the darkness behind her.

Mashiah slowly stood. She would have to get some place safe for the night and return to put the child and maybe any parts of their family left, to rest in the swamp nearby. Heartbroken, Mashiah began to turn when she felt the skin of her spine crawl. The cold pin pricks that ran up to the base of her neck were always a good indicator of danger. Weather it was her brother throwing a ball of snow at her head, or the time one of the cragleotes her dad brought home had tried to headbutt her, she had learned to trust this instinct and fast.

Without hesitation, Mashiah summoned a ball of bright blue flame from her hand and threw it in the direction her senses were screaming for her to pay attention to. The fire struck something in the dark, something large. She bolted toward the trees as the creature let out a loud growl with duel voices. That was bad. Very bad.

Mashiah felt her heart leap into her throat as she pushed for her feet to move faster. She felt her body wanting to seize on her but fought it the best she could. The creature crashed through the brush and trees behind her, letting out the duel voiced growl again, this time mixed with please for “help” and “mommy.”

Hot tears stung at Mashiah’s eyes as the little voice from two mouths at once cried out again. “Mommy.”

Mashiah dashed toward a large rock formation at the edge of a small pond. She scurried as fast as she could up the slippery, moss covered rocks. Her left foot slipped and she came down hard on her face.

Her sight doubled as she tried to get back up quickly. The voices came from behind her again.

“Mommy! Run! N, No, Not, No, My baby!” Hot breath rushed along Mashiah’s legs as the creature came up under her. She clung to the rocks and kept clawing at them to climb up higher. Her hands and feet slipping as the voices of the dead call up to her. She knew what she would see if she looked back. She knew she would stop climbing if she did. She knew her voice would join those of the family from the cabin.

“Dammit!” Mashiah screamed out and turned sharply, one of the two forbidden spells at her ready. It required blood of the user. She swiped her hand over her bleeding nose and cast her hand out quickly, reciting the forbidden word.

It’s face was so close to her feet. It gazed up at her with human eyes. She could count them. Twelve in total. Some green, some blue, some brown, one white and blind. Twelve eyes meant it was an older one, but not the oldest on record. There was no real name for this being. Her father had called them Mocking Walkers *. They mimicked the voices and last words of their prey. They tried hard to wear our skins but always failed to cover their massive forms.

They could walk on two legs in horrific mimicry of humans, or down on all fours like a creature. They eyes clustered along their heads just under the grotesque antlers they grew. The antlers were also batched in clusters of many. Some grew massive racks of bony antlers that looked more like malformed rigs growing from their heads. They spoke from two mouths. Something they had in common with Ghouls, or so that was the rumor.

The main muzzle of the creature resembled a Cragleote’s, a harmless eater of plants, but the bottom of the jaw, almost into it’s neck, opened into a wider mouth. Moth were a trap of jagged teeth, split tongues, and fowl breath. It’s body seemed to be in a constant state of rot. It was muscular, but thin and skeletal all at the same time. What was left of it’s fur was in patches over stretched tight skin. The creature seemed to never heal properly. Wherever it sustained a wound, the spot would rot and fester, growing black and open over time, but never gave to sickness and decay.

*Mocking walker: Something you never want to encounter in the woods. As read above, this creature is nightmare fuel personified. They say it grows more eyes, the more centuries it lives.

The blood flung from Mashiah’s hand sliced across the creature’s face, into it’s shoulder and along it’s front leg into the dirt. It stepped back slight, realizing it was hit but not yet feeling it, if these things could feel at all.

Mashiah felt her grip slip as the creature looked to her again, it’s many eyes blinked of their own timing. It stepped forward toward her again when it’s face split open wide, it’s front leg gave out and pulled away from it’s body. Where the blood had cut the creature, it was deep.

It screamed out in it’s duel voices again. A mix of last words from previous victims, and cries of other animals. Of course it hunted other creatures. Their voices added to the hollow screams of the dead.

Mashiah felt her drip slip and slid down the rocks and landed hard in front of the creature. It’s massive hoof of the unaffected leg, stomped down on her left leg.

She screamed out in pain at the weight of the hoof pushing down on her. Certain she heard her leg snap, Mashiah readied to use the spell again. She hadn’t noticed how much energy it had sapped from her She had never used the spell before and didn’t realize that not only did it require blood, but also required a lot energy.

She felt her head sway as she flung her had out again, reciting the word of the forbidden magic. This time the blood cut it’s way across the creature’s many eyes, but only seemed to effect two. They eyes locked tight in pain, one splitting open, spilling forth a milky fluid.

The creature lunged toward her again.

“This is it. Fuck.” Mashiah wasn’t going to close her eyes. She wanted to meet this head on, no matter how scared she was. There was no time for thoughts of the past, of family, of what ifs. It happened so fast.

One moment the creature was at her face, hot stinking breath filling her own lungs. She would have thrown up if her body could react. The next, the creature was yanked back, screaming and thrashing. A tall slender figure with a long rope wrapped around it’s neck, the other end around a thick tree and yanking hard to pull the monster back.

Whoever it was, they were fast. They moved swiftly with a long blade pulled from their cloak, toward the creature who was now trying to get up on it’s good legs. Her would hero, knight in cloaked darkness, slashing at the creature’s throat, only for the blade to be caught in the second mouth of the beast. Throwing it’s head back it tore the blade from the figure’s hands before swinging it’s massive antlers toward them and knocking them back. The creature swung it’s head again, catching the figure in the shoulder with a sharp antler. He cried out. It was a man.

Mashiah struggled her get up, her left leg was broken for sure. Maybe even crushed. She still could do something. She could, distract it.

“Hey! Over here! Fuck Ugly!” She felt her head dip again as her last reaming bits of energy were trying to leave her. “Ugly ass, piece of shit…” Her words slurred together.

It had worked though. The creature began to move toward her. “Ugly… H. Helllp, Shit!” The voices came from it’s mouths and drifted along the air. It stepped closer to her, a bit hesitant though. Mashiah had scared it? Even just a bit was a huge boost to her ego. She put fear in the heart of the heartless. Her mind began to blank out and her body slumped against the rocks. The hot breath was on her again.

“Well fuck.” She whispered.

Wooden faces:

Mashiah felt the pain in her leg before her eyes even opened. Her voice rand out loud and sharp as the pain shot through her. She felt a hand on her chest gently push her back into the softness of a bed. A bed? She was inside. It was warm, and soft here.

Hos voice followed. Soft yet deep. He was soothing her as he used his other hand to push something into her mouth. It was herbs of some tort. Torchweed* and moss. Healing herbs. Whoever he was, he knew magic and healing.

The pain in her leg turned to a hard throbbing, then dulled slowly. After a while, Mashiah could open her eyes. Slowly. The room wasn’t bright. He had kept the light low and dull for her comfort. She gazed up at a wooden face. Her hand reached up toward the wooden face and he gently removed his hand from her chest and took hers, guiding it back down.

“You had me worried for a moment” he said softly. “You’re lucky to still have that leg miss.”

“Mashiah…” She sloppily blurted out. The herbs had made everything numb, including her mouth.

“Mashiah.” He repeated her name. His voice was kind and soothing still. “What the actual fuck, were you doing out here?” His voice gave hint to a slight smirk under the wooden mask.

She looked up at him and noticed his long faded blond hair. It was almost a dull ivory color. His shirt was dark and baggy on him, with long sleeves that hung lose on his arms. His skin was, a faint green. Almost white but not quite. It then struck her what he was.

“You’re a glll… gou lll.”

“A ghoul, yes.” He tilted his head slightly. “Is that an issue for you?”

Mashiah shook her head slightly. “Nope. I dnnt, don’t care. Never met, one… I thought, you all were dumb.”

He laughed at this. “Well, the younger ghouls are driven by hunger and have little self control, true. They will turn to murder and cannibalism out of desperation. The hunger will take over any sense of decorum or common sense.” He stood up slowly and began to gather his tools from the table by her bed. “I am however older, past my hunger lust and I was also not created a ghoul in the common way.”

“Wait, ghouls are created and not birthed?” Mashiah felt the numbness leaving her mouth and it was easier to speak now.

*Torchweed: a glowing blue plant with thorny leaves that grows in the fire swamps. It’s soft insides have healing properties.

“Well, both are true I guess. It’s complicated.” He put the items in a cabinet and turned back to her. “My name is Moss. You should get some rest Mashiah. I’ll be back with something you can eat, and we can see about healing those bones more.”

“You know magic?” She felt a twinge of hope.

“Yes, but not healing magic, beyond herbs and potions. I have a friend on the way to heal you. She will fix you up so we can send you home.”

“I don’t wanna go home.” Mashiah protested faintly. “I came here. To find a mentor.”

“You came here to almost die. Your lucky to be alive. Get some rest.”

Before she could argue with him further, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

“But I. Don’t wanna….” Her eyes fell shut so hard she swore they made a thumping sound in her head. She awoke some time later with fairy wings over head.

“You are so lucky to both be alive” came a female voice from beside Mashiah’s bed.

“I know, I know” Moss groaned from somewhere in the room.

Mashiah looked up to see a little round face look down at her. Her skin was a pretty shade of brown. Her skin seemed to have a light to it that Mashiah couldn’t quite place. Her eyes were pools of darkness but if you stared long in them, you could see stars, the night sky, planets circling each other.

“Hello there.” The woman smiled down at Mashiah, her voice breaking the trance she had fell in, looking into the woman’s eyes.

“Hi…” Mashiah glanced again at the wings. There were made of light, dancing colors of pure shimmering brilliance. “Your a fairy!” Mashiah couldn’t contain her surprise. She tried to sit up but the fairy woman gently, but with the strength of 30 men, pushed her back into the bed.

“My name is Dee Dee, and yes, I am a fairy.” She stepped back showing the full sight of her wings as they then slowly faded from sight. “You are all healed up but by no meals does that constitute you to go dancing or rock climbing any time soon. Your foot was smashed up pretty bad and your leg was broken. You’ll feel it again some day. Especially on cold wet nights. Your bones remember and won’t let you forget.” Dee Dee smiled and stepped back by Moss. The difference in height was obvious. Dee Dee had to be a bit shorter than Mashiah, and Moss had to be, from the looks of it, as tall as a tree himself.

Dee Dee was a tony little thing at about 4’ 8”, slender build, dressed sharply in the latest fae fashion. Her dress was open at the sides from shoulder on out. It was held together at the waist with a leather corset and nothing more. A strong breeze would open all of it up allowing everything to be displayed, Dee Dee’s tiny titties and all. Yet somehow Mashiah was sure there was some clothing magic in place to keep that from happening.

“So why in all the realms, were you in the woods last night?” Dee Dee got straight to it.

Mashiah groaned and let them hear it. How she was looking for a necromancer teacher, how much her life sucked and how big of a cunt Klara was. Eclipsed in cunthood only by her mother. Half way through her confessional, Mashiah realized she was drugged.

Moss, still wearing his mask, had remained silent while Dee Dee, the playful little bitch, was smiling ear to pointy ear.

“Did you put a truth spell on me?” Mashiah hissed.

Dee Dee clapped her little hands together. “I am so sorry if I crossed a line, but I find you humans like to omit certain details and honestly, I’m bored. There's nothing interesting happening around here and you are the first bit of juicy gossip I have had in ages. Please tell me more about your mother! I hate her with you.”

For some reason Mashiah couldn’t be mad at this. The little fairy did help save her life after all, and they were out in the dark woods. Mashiah assumed there was little interaction with others out here, or really anything to talk about.

By now Dee Dee had pulled up a chair to listen. While Mashiah opened up about her boring life, which Dee Dee found fascinating, Moss had wandered off into another part of the house.

Once gone, Mashiah asked “what’s his deal?”

Dee Dee glanced back at the door then to Mashiah. “Moss? He kinda keeps to himself out here. You wanted a necromancer or master of the dark magic, you found him.” Dee Dee smiled slightly “but he has never taken a student or anything like that. He just exists. He’s always out trying to make things better, or lead wayward humans back to their villages. He’s a good man, but also haunted. It’s a long story.”

“So I’ve heard.” Mashiah finally got to sit up. Her leg felt loads better. A bit stiff and sore, some pain when she was finally out of bed and put weight on it, but all in all, better than it could have been. Magic was never a full fix back to before something was damaged. It always had it’s own limits.

Dee Dee was a good friend of Moss’ and go way back, from what Mashiah could gather. Mashiah also gathered that the two were not romantic in any way. She was curious about that, as she often is, but Dee Dee had blushed and laughed.

“No no. I like them tall and strong, and with large breasts I can smother myself in” she busr into laughter. “I want a woman who can pick me up like a kitten and tote me around in her shirt.”

The pair laughed hard at this. The thought if the little fairy nestled between two giant breasts, happy and cozy, was rather adorable.

“Well if I ever find a woman like that, I’ll send her your way” Mashiah teased.

“You better! It’s hard to find a nice, thick, muscled woman around here. I’ll settle for tall with nice arms if I have to though.” Dee Dee had finished the last round of healing magic on Mashiah’s leg before getting up to head home. Wherever fairies come from.

“Talk to Moss about that apprenticeship. Be upfront with him, and don’t take no for an answer.” Dee Dee pointed a little bony finger at Mashiah. “I think you two would work great together. You already had against that thing.”

Before Mashiah could ask what happened to the Mocking Walker, Dee Dee was gone in a puff of light and shimmer.

Mashiah decided she liked Dee Dee a lot. She was kind and funny, but also a typical fairy. Mischievous and playful. Now was her time to work on Moss.