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rainbowfic2013-03-10 03:22 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2013-03-10 03:22 pm
Fire Opal 11, Dove Grey 12, Sulphur 18
Name: auguris
'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: The Cabin
Colors: Fire Opal 11. Own personal war, Dove Grey 12. my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping / but / I shall go on living, Sulphur 18. Unclean
Supplies and Styles: Canvas, Charcoal, Glitter: "Evil is a point of view." – Anne Rice
Word Count: 196
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore
Summary: Aldric loses his parents.
He returns home at sunrise, sprinting from shadow to shadow, praying not to be seen. Only birdsong punctuates the silence, careful chirps and quiet notes.
The door gapes. A strange smell wafts out, cloves and something else. He stops before the doorway; he knows what he is about to see, knows what that smell means, knows that Mother and Father are already dead.
He steps across the threshold; he is inside the cabin. The fire is out. The table is upended, chairs on their sides or their fronts. Mother's jams are spilled across the floor, shattered, blue and yellow and red. That one was strawberry, his favorite.
They are lying on the floor. Father is face down, his arm thrown over Mother's form. Mother is face up, eyes open, mouth wide. Bloody chunks of flesh where her stomach is meant to be. Aldric kneels by her side, lifting her hand. Dried blood is caked under her fingernails, in the creases between her fingers.
He takes Father's hand and holds both between his.
Patience in all things, he remembers Mother saying.
Listen to your mother, he remembers Father saying.
Yes. Yes.
The humans will regret this day.
auguris'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: The Cabin
Colors: Fire Opal 11. Own personal war, Dove Grey 12. my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping / but / I shall go on living, Sulphur 18. Unclean
Supplies and Styles: Canvas, Charcoal, Glitter: "Evil is a point of view." – Anne Rice
Word Count: 196
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore
Summary: Aldric loses his parents.
He returns home at sunrise, sprinting from shadow to shadow, praying not to be seen. Only birdsong punctuates the silence, careful chirps and quiet notes.
The door gapes. A strange smell wafts out, cloves and something else. He stops before the doorway; he knows what he is about to see, knows what that smell means, knows that Mother and Father are already dead.
He steps across the threshold; he is inside the cabin. The fire is out. The table is upended, chairs on their sides or their fronts. Mother's jams are spilled across the floor, shattered, blue and yellow and red. That one was strawberry, his favorite.
They are lying on the floor. Father is face down, his arm thrown over Mother's form. Mother is face up, eyes open, mouth wide. Bloody chunks of flesh where her stomach is meant to be. Aldric kneels by her side, lifting her hand. Dried blood is caked under her fingernails, in the creases between her fingers.
He takes Father's hand and holds both between his.
Patience in all things, he remembers Mother saying.
Listen to your mother, he remembers Father saying.
Yes. Yes.
The humans will regret this day.
no subject
I like the description in this, how the details build until we get to the inevitable.
no subject
Thank you!
no subject
no subject
Thank you!