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"Within these walls, we are our own worst enemies," Shun said grimly. Maybe things are different in Sina, or even Rose. But there wouldn't be such thing as murder or even thievery if humans weren't enemies to themselves."

The man shrugged lightly afterwards, still keeping a completely serious expression as always, "I speak only of what I know. Take what you will of that."

Group Two - Story

She was glad that the festivities were about to start, it kept her from replying to Nik. Her gaze was blank as she stared at the drunk man, who seemed to have hostility toward her and Nik. She had never met him before and had done nothing to make him resent her, well except being born into a higher class and being pampered her entire life. Even his story held his resentment toward those who were rich and higher up on the social scale. It irked her that he would generalize all the nobles, but then again she had done the same to the lower classes before she met Green. The man finished his tale and the posh Nik began his turn. It was an interesting story, but not frightening at all. What was he trying to convey? That the man was afraid of perfection? There was nothing wrong with perfection, in fact she desired it. Perhaps not in appearance but in action. The next tale was actually creepy, how a real ghost story should be. She continued to think of what story she wanted to tell, the one that came to mind was about a doll, would that be too similar to the pervious haunted tale? Oh well, it was now or never. Gracefully she stood up, her eyes met each person within the circle. With a deep breath, she began her tale:

“Many years ago there lived a beautiful woman, her looks were beyond compare, and many men would travel for miles just to see one of her smiles. This woman loved to bathe each day in the river, it was her morning ritual to wash away the dirt of the previous day and be clean for the day to come. It was unknown to her that her morning routine would change her life forever. As she let the water wash away the grime of the previous day, a prawn burrowed into her leg. The doctor was summoned and he began treatment, but he told the lady that there would be no way to remove the creature.

“Now deformed with a limp, the men turned their gaze away from her, she became undesirable. Alone in her house she began to make dolls. During this time of solitude, her sister and brother-in-law perished in a tragic accident, leaving the lady in the care of their three young daughters. By this time the woman’s skill with dolls was exceptional and she was able to create life like replicas of her three nieces. Each birthday a new doll would be made, a twin of the girl the aunt raised. Years passed and finally the eldest of the three nieces was of marrying age. Countless hours were spent on this last doll, Mikado Porcelain was used to create the face and the eyes were made from precious stones that were then soaked in the river water for a week, so that they too could be washed of the past and be fresh for the future. The doll was then filled with honey so that it was warm to the touch. The eldest daughter carried her life size replica of herself out of her aunt’s house, knowing that in her hands she held a key to her resurrection should she need it.

“This continued with the next niece, until it was only the youngest that remained. Twenty years have passed since the fateful day when the prawn made its home inside her leg and the doctor still continued to treat the wound and give the aunt medicine for the pain. One day he brought his son, also a doctor, along for the visit. When the man and son were alone, the son exclaimed that the injury was an easy fix and the father agreed, he just wanted his son to see the creature, within the lady’s leg, whose existence and ‘treatment’ paid for young doctor’s medical degree. The son then took over the treatment of the aunt, and visited every other day just so he could sneak a peek upon the youngest niece. The aunt witnessing the interaction between the two young people, began to make her last doll. This doll was more special than the rest, for instead of the gemstones as eyes, they were the diamond earrings that had once belonged to the girl’s mother. The ritual for the doll was the same, the soaking of the eyes in the river, the carving of the Mikado Porcelain into the flawless face of the youngest, and filling the body with honey so that it was warm to the touch. The doll was presented to the youngest niece when she left for the young doctor’s (her husband’s) house. He was quite disturbed by the replica of his young wife, he felt as if the doll could stare into his dark soul and know the secrets that lay hidden there.

“The doll was placed upon the piano, where it was able to look out at all those who entered the room. Soon the husband became greedy and sold the eyes to make himself richer; the doll then stared out at the room with empty eye sockets. Uneasy, the husband closed the eyes and bowed the head of the doll. Only a few months passed when he received an offer for the porcelain of the doll’s face, but when he went searching for the doll, it was nowhere to be found. He asked his wife, she did not know and said that perhaps it was the ants, since the doll was filled honey. Throughout the night the husband dug up every ant hill in the garden to no avail. The doll was gone.

“His greed created barriers between him and his young wife, he no longer needed the money she had, but would rather use her as a display piece to show the town that he possessed the most beautiful woman. Sad and lonely, the wife of the young doctor sat upon the balcony at her husband’s command. Season changed and she still sat upon the balcony, soon she stopped talking and her gaze turned downward. Some of the doctor’s patients even reported that when they sat near her, she gave off a sweet scent that brought out their animal instincts.

“Years had passed and the doctor was aging normally, but he began to notice that his wife was still as young and flawless as the day they married. That night he snuck into her room, she was not breathing. The doctor left and retrieved his stethoscope to listen to her heart, only to find that there was no heart beat within his wife’s chest, but the sound of rushing water. With a start pushed away from the doll just as she sat up and opened her lids to reveal empty eye sockets. A smile appeared on the perfect face. Slowly she opened her gaping maw. Thousands of prawns came flying out of the black hole that was her mouth, attacking the doctor and burrowing into his skin. His screams were drowned out by the maniacal laughter of the doll, who watched with her vacant eyes as the man she married was eaten alive.”

Lloren stared in wide-eyed wonder and confusion as the bald men made their reappearance and even put on a show of rhyming it away at the redhead. She wanted to think that it was a performance, in any case; and so she gave them applause as they retreated back to the shadows they came from. How did they even do that? They must be keeping a really close eye on all of them to have that kind of reaction time. Was there some kind of reason? Were they perhaps seeking the most masterful storyteller of Shinganshina for some task of mythic importance? Various possible scenarios brewed in the trainee's head.

But that was before she asked permission to use Lillian's story. Now they were sitting in a circle again, talking to each other, and Lloren had just given Lillian a thumbs up. Seeing the two lean into each other, she could tell they were close, but she still felt compelled to hazard a guess at Lillian's whole 'why's he so bothered' thing. "Great! Thank you nonetheless. And uh, I'm guessing it's because Alec was picturing the dog as, his own dog, you know, if he has one." Incidentally was happy to answer Alec's question. "Well, for one, I'd change the dog's death to an accidental one. And then knowing very well that his dog could no longer be, the kid reaches under the bed by habit, and feels the dog's cold tongue brush against his fingers... he doesn't dare to look at first, and the next night he doesn't reach under the bed, too scared to feel the lick again. But then he hears the dog's whine. A sad, mournful whine. And he dares to peek under the bed... and there he sees his dog's maimed corpse, bedraggled with exposed flesh and bone, whining at him, crying, why couldn't you save me." She cackled at the end of this alternate telling, satisfied.

Lloren listened to Rikki's story, expecting a clichéd ending... but it turned out to be something unexpected, and pretty funny. "Heh!"

Shun really did not seem to be impressed with Danny's story. When she thumped him in the back, he swatted her hand away. Grumbling under his breath, he stood up and moved to the other side of the bonfire, away from the orange haired pest.

Preacher hadn't even blinked wearily awake when Axel moved, taking with him that wonderful warmth. Instead, it wasn't until several stories had passed that she moved. Bewildered, she shook her head and the pain jolted her fully awake. Vague stories prodded at her brain - s**t, drunkards, pies, dolls, headless woman. It turned into a jumble of creepy things. Abruptly, she realized it was her turn. Her golden eyes stared into the fire for a moment and an odd expression passed over her. There were real stories, real scares, that were far worse than anything mentioned her. But they were not for this crowd. Preacher stood, wobbling for a second, and began to speak.




"Now, this is a story starts at night, like most stories. When I awoke, the night was still, s'unusual fer tha Eastern Alleyway. The Alleyway bustles at all times, ya ken? So I lifted my head n' counted m'fellows." Here, Preacher pointed to a number of people sitting around the fire, her arm stiffly held out in front of her. She paused at each one as she mouthed the numbers, drawing them into her unfortunate story. Alec, Elliot, Shun, Danny, Lloren... "One... three... six... seven.. Seven? I counted 'gain, sure ta be a-distinguishin' 'tween shadow and man. I ain't daft, ya ken? Seven. All tha muscles in my body tensed up-a worse than a virgin on her weddin' night. There was one extra person in tha room. Against my will, I collapsed like lead, 'n I tried ta shout, to warn the others, but no words woulda come out. Tha extra person was a pale figure in all tha shadows 'n slowly, slowly, it turned its head towards me.

It was then that I kin it was no thief, like I first thought. It shuffled forward slowly, on all fours, wit' tall, thin limbs like a spider's legs. Tha thing's body was pale, pallid, n' lumpy, like a bloated corpse fished from this same here canal after too many days. Skin hung down tha thing in folds that swayed when it kipped over to me. Long, dark hair straggled over even darker eyes gleamin' like bottomless pools even in the moonless night. It stopped n' sat at the foot of my cot, n' I was trapped - motionless as it stroked down m'legs n' smiled. That smile were unnatural; witcha hundred spindly silver teeth shining up in its lip-less mouth. Iffin I'da been able to, I'da bolted.

Thankafully, I woke up ta normal mornin' light.

But, night afta night, that ******** thing slowly crawled over to tha foot of m'cot. Some nights a long, thin tongue snaked a-down from its mouth n' curled around my feet, my toes. This continued for 'bout a month, more. It was frightenin'; I found it hard ta sleep, but it never came-a closer. 'Til that night. Tha night was stormy, 'n I coulda already feel tha heaviness of my body that meant I would see it. 'N, sure as rain n' sunshine, there it was when I opened m'eyes. But this time, tha thing crawled up my body, pinchin' me wit its spindly arms, starin' at me unblinking-like. Musterin' alla my strength, I screamed!" Abruptly, Preacher kicked dirt into the fire, sending up a shower of unexpected sparks. They shimmered in the air around her, the afterimages burning into eyes too used to darkness. When they faded, she spoke again, her voice a whisper in the resulting gloom around the bonfire.

I woke that morning a-haunted. My steps dragged 'n I swore I saw that ********' thing in the corners of e'en daytime shadows. It was a-waitin', waitin' for tha time when sleep.... sleep n' it would claim me. So, when a clawed hand grabbed my arm, you betcher life I nearly lost it. But it was merely a old woman. Her words, though, they rang with some kinda wisdom n' experience.

"Boy," she said n' her voice was wizened n' as creaky as rottin' wood." Preacher's voice creaked to match and her eyes gleamed eerily in the firelight. Suddenly, she was that hunched, old woman, pearls of vague wisdom dripping from her lips. '"You have a demon. It's so... so very close to you. Can you see it? Do you see... it?" She looked past me as she spoke 'n I suddenly kin that, that thing was a-there, waitin' just beyond tha edges of my vision. I ain't ashamed ta say it - I begged her for help. What else coulda I do? "You... noticed it, boy. Don't... look. It waits for you to see it." N' then she roughly pushed me away. That night I lay, waitin' for it, n' I resolved myself ta death or whatever would happen.

N', I s**t you not, like clockwork, there it was, its slaverin' grin stretched from ear to ear. N', although I saw it, 'though I trembled in fear like-a fallin' leaf, I closed my eyes to it, closed my ears to it, n' went on right to sleep. Bit surprisingly, I awoke tha next mornin', unharmed. Whaddaya know." Preacher paused and shrugged expansively, her arms held far out from her body. "But, I kin now, ya, that I still see it. Last night, I watched it on tha cot next to mine. It crawled ona Samuel, dam fool, n' wrapped its long, thin tongue 'round his throat. But, I dun notice it, don't stare fer too damn long. So it don't notice me.

So, please, don;t be a damn idiot - iffin ya ever awaken in the night, go immediately back ta sleep. N' please, please never notice tha demons that follow behind ya."

With that last sentence Preacher raised one shaky finger to point at something just beyond Axel's shoulder. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments as though she were trying to say something. Suddenly, she screamed! It was a high, piercing sound that hung in the air for mere seconds before she collapsed in a heap on the ground. In the resulting murmuring confusion, she picked herself up off the ground and slumped back down on her log. Preacher wished dearly for water.


inspiration:



edited only to fix royally screwed up coding

After her deliciously loud scream, when she was crawling back to her chair, Preacher glanced around. She hoped it would affect someone. She hadn't been awake very long and she was already bored. If sickness hadn't still been sending shivery fingers of unease down her spine, she would've left. There was no profit in this bonfire. She kicked her legs out in front of her and sighed, scratching at a bug bite on one arm.

Suddenly, she looked up and met Axel's hard stare. Her blues eyes seems bleary or Smokey through the fire. He was clearly displeased with her for some reason or another. Whatever. He was acting weirder than normal. The cuddles, the smell of alcohol, that odd rasp to his ranting voice. She rolled her shoulders and stared right back, making a rude gesture with her hands. And finally, she stuck her pink tongue out at him. Suck it, stick-in-tha-mud. But she was distracted by her eye-fueled vendetta by Deacon's story about a pig.

She yawned widely, not bothering to hide her disdain. Pigs were for eating, not pets. As Dead on finished, she piped up. "Iffin tha hog had come back to life with alla flesh back on it, he coulda killed it and eaten it all over again. Be a better ending, ye ken?" MAybe it was best that she'd remained passed out until near the end. Only Deacon had to suffer through her casual criticism. She leaned back on her log and coughed. She was considerably less bleary and fuzzy, but walls be damned, Preacher still felt awful.

Vaguely, she remembered something about Axel's story... an incoherent rant. Drunkard. She found herself still staring at him. Oh, how the high have fallen.... Forcefully, she turned her gaze from his and looked around the fire. Story time was over for now, but the strange bald plot devices still lurked in the woods. She leaned over slightly to Danny.

"Ya know, I used to know Shun back whereall we grew up. I kin he likes you. You should go bother 'im some more." Preacher was deliberately stroking a fire, but at least it would be interesting.

Shun wasted no time to get the hell out of there.