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The rumors were endless.

One may think that a library was always quiet and would never have others gossiping about silly things, such as a ghost or something similar. But of course, as expected, they were wrong. The echoing of the library only made those things easier to hear. Sometimes she purposely pushed out the whispers, focusing more on the newly arrived books she had just started to read, the trolls who asked her for help, or, the drawing she had recently made. But this time, she chose to listen.

"Have you heard of the ghost that haunts that old, abandoned theatre in Old Hemisect? I've never gone, but I heard that it preforms lines from random plays! Doesn't it sound inttereeestinggg??" A blueblood exclaimed in a whisper the day before to her friend, a tealblood. It was after her Chittentown shift, in New Hemisect. "Yeah, I heard of it a while ago. Supposedly, it was a troll that died in the vast glub." He'd replied, mouth pulling into a frown. Vremea eyed the two trolls from corner of her eye, their gossip having caught her attention. She turned her attention back to her book, but couldn't focus. She kept listening to the two talk about the rumors that have spread about a certain theatre. She kept listening, even when they stopped talking about it and carried on to talk about the greenblood and the tealblood that had talked to them, how dreamy the greenblood was. She figured the thought would leave her before she reached home after she finished work, but unfortunately, it hadn't.

All morning she was thinking about the same thing— A ghost in Old Hemisect? It couldn't be. The glub happened recently, and they've already made rumors about it? She couldn't sleep at all— she was seriously thinking about going to Old Hemisect and checking it out.

So she did. Yakmom had no objections— it was on her free day after all. She had nothing better to do. As she entered Old Hemisect wearily, she looked around, mouth pursed. Suddenly it didn't seem like a good idea. The rundown mansions were huge and beautiful, each holding an elaborate design. She could actually see highblooded trolls living in what used to be an elegant restaurant, their lowblooded servants scurrying around as they received orders from their masters and hurried to abide them. Strong, powerful warriors dancing a dance only they knew as they fought, lunging and trying their best as their fans rooted for them in the crowds of the old, abandoned arenas. And now, those buildings looked ancient and run down, the gulb having killed hundreds. The lowblooded lolita was looking for the theatre, to prove those high-middlebloods wrong. Hopefully it was close by— oh gog what was that ahh!!

She breathed a sigh of relief. It was just the opera house. Nothing to wor— oh my gog. Fear blossomed in her as she approached the building silently, heart thumping as she passed through the door that was left somewhat ajar with no sound. She heard random verses being said and from the hallway outside of the splendid Opera, some she knew, some she did not. Her heart racing, she peeked into the Opera house.

Not being able to see from very far away, all she could find with her eyes searching was a grey troll-like blob. She let out a small squeak and, frightened, pulled back into hallway. Oh gog what was that oh gog!!!! What if it attacked her?? A scythe couldn't cut into a ghost! She racked her brain, she hadn't thought that this would happen! She only assumed that she automatically wouldn't find it.

Vremea looked down, eyes wide as she frowned at the wall in front of her. Laughter that rivaled the most frightening villain rung in her ears, making her shiver.

"You... cannot hide from me!"

Her breath caught in her throat. It was directed at her—it—or he, from the tone of the voice— was talking to her!

"You cannot escape!"

She was scared, oh gog, she was so scared ahh she couldn't leave ahh she couldn't she couldn't the ghost trapped her oh gog oh gog oh gog oh gog aahhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Her mind was completely brainwashed from any other thought— THERE WAS A FREAKING GHOST. IN THAT ROOM.

And it was going to cull her.

Sliding down the wall, the young troll was extremely scared of the voice coming from the theatre. She sat down with a small, barely audible 'thump'. She stared ahead, eyes wide, face drained of any blood that may have been in her face. She couldn't eascape.

She couldn't escape oh my gog.

Tears threatened to poke at her eyes—she was about to freaking die, she couldn't help it— but she shook them away. Maybe if she showed the ghost that she wasn't scared of it(who was she kidding she WAS SCARED OF IT) she would be able to leave. Maybe if she scared it away. Please please please oh gog she still wanted to live, she still wanted to live...

She dried her unshed tears and grabbed a spare rock around, ready to throw it at it to grab it's attention. She was ready to scare it(no she wasn't), she wanted to live(oh gog she did), and sitting there waiting for it to come and kill her wouldn't solve anything(or would it??). Maybe if she waited for it to come and try to kill her... maybe then... she could scare it off. She got up, dispelling the idea. She had to do this now, when she had the chance, when it was still talking.

She rushed into the room and ran down hallway next to the seats, frantically flinging the rock at the grey blob that was still there. She instantly picked up and flung more of them from the many that littered the floor, hoping one of them passed though it or at least hit it. She had a horrible throwing arm and sometimes she couldn't even hit her mark! Afterwards, she absconded to behind a seat somewhere in the middle, bending down and putting her hand over her ears, whimpering in a very low voice.

Vremea tried her best to stay unseen, but her horns— why were her horns so small? She wished she could shrink into a little ball, oh gog, she wished she was at her hive and nothing would attack her. She wished she didn't follow what they had said— she wished she could leave. She wished she could disappear.

But then again, life wasn't fair. Her feet were rooted to the ground in fear.

Vremea, ignoring the dust, lay down on the floor, eyes squeezed closed. She held her breath, trying not to inhale the dust. Death was not an option, she repeated to herself. I need to take care of Yakmom. She stayed like this for a few minutes, and the voice... his voice echoed throughout the whole theatre,

"Who dares to try and harm me!? Show yourself or face my wrath!"

She stayed silent. Despite all her efforts to keep herself,m, in some stupid way, "safe", the yellow blood did not want to get into trouble. His voice resounded with pride— like he was highblood, bordering purple. She was no match for that...

She felt compelled to give herself in.

But she'd be culled.

Her whimpers had stopped for a while now, and everything was silent— as if this was a play. Maybe the ghost was just trying to put up an act? She wrinkled her nose. It was unlikely, but it might be true. The small hope in her was diminished when she peeked over the seats— even though she was closer, she still couldn't see as well as she wanted to. His appearance was still blurry, but she could see the vague outline of the ghosts face.

Anger...?

She shrunk away, ducking her head under the chair. Nope. He wasn't pleased.

The only thing she thought of at the moment was to run away, but she couldn't. He'd see her make a break for it and close all the doors with his super powery windy thing. She shuffled off the ground and clutched the pole she held, grabbing more rocks off the floor and flinging them once again, trying to hit him.

20/20 HP

Judging from the three yelps, she assumed she hit him. Which she didn't know was possible.

Wasn't he a ghost?

Vremea pursed her lips and started moving down the row, hearing light thumps hit the seats she just passed— until one hit her straight on the head. She yelped in surprise and huffed, slowly showing herself after deciding that she had been too loud. It was stupid to keep herself concealed— he already saw and heard her. Hell, he even hit her with a rock!

Speaking of which— aren't ghosts illusions...? Maybe he's just an impostor! She frowned— What if it was an actual troll and he was only doing this to make fun of her?

She clung to her pole, using it as means to keep herself steady because seriously— if she didn't have it, she'd fall flat on her face, curl up into a ball, and stay there till the supposed ghost came to kill her. Vremea winced. She was not allowing that. Never, she thought, and started run toward the troll, gripping the pole. Suddenly, she had a... pretty rad idea. Haha, that was her first time using that word. 'Rad.'

She picked up a nearby rock, flinging it up into the air and trying to hit him. First she missed, but the second time, she think she almost hit him, judging from the grey blob the was currently molding with the other blob and landing a few inches away from him. She tried doing it many times— it was actually making her calmer! She didn't feel as agitated...

But she assumed none of them were hitting him due to the lack of yelps. Vremea pursed her lips and kept throwing a few more times, then ran behind a pillar— hopefully he was disoriented and couldn't focus from the rocks that had bombarded him previously. She rubbed her throbbing head tenderly— wow, that hurt... It must've been a big rock, or something. She took a small breather, trying to make her breath as normal and silent as possible, but instead they were coming out in small pants. Darn it. Hopefully— hopefully he didn't notice.

19/20 HP

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