.--- . -... .- -.-. / -.- --- .-.. . .--- . /

.--- . -... .- -.-. / -.- --- .-.. . .--- . /

-- .- --.. --- .-- .. . -.-. -.- .. .

A visual representation of me drawing

*Opens Wielka Księga Demonów Polskich (the great book of polish demons)*

'White goose - personification -> death in the Silesian voivodeship. One evening a miner was walking home near a pond and saw something white. He approaches it and sees its a goose. So he took her home. He let her out to the chicken coop (I think?) and gone to sleep. Next morning woman (like his wife) looks into the coop and the goose is gone, so she goes to tell her man, but he's already dead. People then said it wasn't a goose, but death and he had brought her upon himself.

Children Of The Prophecy - pt. 16

Summary: the Hunters strike again

Next Masterlist

Tw: stabbing, murder, blood, injuries, magic healing & exhaustion

The moment the door to the small, comfy café opened was the moment the pandemonium began.

People dressed in all black, with strange, red symbols decorating their clothes ran inside. They had their faces covered, some with balaclavas and others with plain black masks. A few of them had their hoods up, as if to further hide their identity. They all had one thing in common; each of them was carrying a weapon of some sort.

They surrounded one of the people inside, a boy with curly, salt and pepper hair tied in a ponytail. He had vibrant blue eyes, and was absentmindedly sipping on his coffee. He had a red jumper and black sweatpants on, and generally looked as if he had just woken up. His hands were covered by black fingerless gloves.

The other customers paid no mind to the whole ordeal, as if armed people barging in at random were a completely normal thing.

One of them pointed a dagger at the boy “Khors Alastair Laurealle, by the order of Sari” they started, their voice emotionless “you are under arrest”

The boy took another long sip of his coffee and slowly shifted his gaze to the stranger. “First of all, It's 'Alastair Khors'" the hunter stared at him "second, No, I don’t think I am”

He got up, making some of the people in black back away but stopped, seeing the glare the one with the dagger shot at them.

The boy nonchalantly threw the paper coffee cup at the trashcan and sat back at his table.

"Waiter!" he called out, and upon arrival of said person added: "One latte macchiato with salted caramel and whipped cream, please" he smiled "Oh and don't forget to add extra salty salted caramel"

The person with the dagger followed the waiter with their gaze, as he (the waiter) went back to the kitchen.

"You see, dear demon hunter, your first mistake was trying to catch me." the boy said after a while "The second; doing it here"

He closed his eyes, focusing on the people around him, on their fragile lives, their souls.

One by one the Hunters started screaming, holding their heads, as blood leaked from their eyes, only to fall to the ground moments later. He felt something warm trickle from his nose, and down his face.

Someone lunged at him, and he felt a sharp stab of pain in his side. He paid it no mind and sprinted to the Employee Only door, locking it behind him.

He shot a quick glance as his now stained-dark-red jumper and swore under his breath. There was banging coming from the other side of the door.

The room was small, filled with cardboard boxes and having only one door; the one he came through.

What most people didn't know, however, was that if you moved the boxes, you'd find a trapdoor with a ladder leading somewhere deep below. To The Underground; a world where shadows ruled.

That was exactly where he wanted to go. The tunnels were a deadly labyrinth to an inexperienced person, however the boy, fortunately—or not—for him, had spent a half of his childhood in said tunnels.

He jumped down the ladder, wincing at the piercing pain radiating from his side. He’d have to deal with it later.

The sound of a door getting broken down was enough to keep him running. Being in The Underground didn’t guarantee safety. It was the complete opposite, actually, but it gave him the advantage of knowing the terrain.

He ignored the first five side tunnels and entered the sixth, narrow, round pipe. He had to crouch down in order to fit in.

The boy kept moving, ignoring the small side tunnels, the hunters right on his heels. He was getting tired, either from blood loss or the fact that he stayed up late the previous night.

He jumped down another hole, finding himself in a giant room with just a little ledge protecting him from falling to his death. He walked on it and walked to the other side of the room, where some slightly discolored bricks were. He kicked them, uncovering another narrow tunnel.

He crawled into it and found himself in a painfully small space. He pushed down the claustrophobic feeling; it was no time to panic.

Then, he saw what he was looking for. Light.

He opened the bars and crawled out of the pipe and into a pond.

The light made his eyes hurt, and the water was ice cold.

It wasn’t likely that the hunters would follow that far, but he learned not to underestimate them a long time ago.

He stumbled, and glanced at the red mark on his left wrist. It was glowing faintly.

The boy held back a scream as he collapsed to the ground, feeling his flesh knit itself back together, accompanied with the pounding of his head.

He had never been good with healing, it being super taxing and painful.

He laid there for a while, too dazed to get up. He swore he could hear his mother telling him how weak he is and how his father's death was all his fault.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember his dad. There was nothing. When he thought of him, all he saw was a way younger version of himself at his father's funeral.

The pond he found himself in was surrounded by various tall trees and bushes.

And then he noticed what was scraped on the tree closest to him.

See you soon

~an old friend

Fucking delightful, he thought.

-

Taglist: @heathenwhump @laves-here

Okay first of all

This is cursed

Second,

What the fuck is this

I AM GONNA LEARN OLD SLAVIC

Children Of The Prophecy - pt. 15½

Summary: I wanted to make someone suffer, ok?

Next Masterlist

Tw: injuries, hallucinations and more not-children being creepy

"What's the pl—" Meredith started

"—What are you doing here, then?" Jesse cut her off, earning a death glare and dismissing it "Like, do you just go to work?"

Claire Avery chuckled. "No, not really." they swung their feet off the chair and swiftly got up "I mean, it depends what you consider a job"

They approached a small, wooden bookshelf and grabbed something from one of the shelves.

It was a scroll, similar to the one Jesse stole from her father.

They returned to their chair and after unrolling the 'scroll' studied it with an expression of interest.

"What's this?" Jesse asked them, pulling the corner in her direction in order to see it. She noticed a few lines, some of them dotted, some not. There were some X's and circles, but other than that the piece of paper looked like a child's scribble.

"It's a map" Claire Avery said, still focused on the thing "It's usually used to mark down a location, y'know"

Jesse shot a glance at Meredith, who was slumped on the half-eaten sofa, eyes closed and breathing evenly. Asleep.

"Okay, and?" she asked, toning it down in order not to wake up her friend. "What do you need it for?"

This time, Claire Avery looked at her "I'm assuming you don't wanna stay here, in this godforsaken world" a slight smile formed on their face "I'm looking for the closest Gate"

Jesse decided not to continue this weird interrogation and just got up, wandering off into the corridor.

She entered the bathroom and washed her hands. It was more of an unconscious movement, and she paid it no attention. What really concerned her, was a child staring at her in the mirror with two, black as coal, empty eyes.

She stumbled back, surprised. The child stared at her with an unreadable expression.

"What the hell…" she whispered

"Zostawiłaś mnie," the child whispered. It was quiet, barely audible, yet filled with anger "Jak mogłaś?" their voice was getting unbearable "Jak mogłaś?!"

Jesse closed her eyes and slowly slid down the wall. The voice was getting louder and louder "Przepraszam…" she whispered, tears dripping down her face. She was shaking.

"To wszystko twoja wina!" they screamed, making Jesse cover her ears

"I'm sorry, okay?!" she raised her voice a bit, looking up at the child in the mirror "I'm sorry"

They were staring at her with such intensity she felt as if she was suffocating. She couldn't breathe.

"Stop it" she wheezed

The child glared

"Stop it!" she repeated, louder. Black spots were slowly creeping from the sides, clouding her vision

"Jayka?" she heard Meredith's voice "You okay in there?"

The pressure lifted and upon glancing at the mirror, she found it empty.

She coughed, ignoring the nickname.

"Yeah, just give me…" she took a deep breath "…a second"

"Sure"

She shakily got up, heavily leaning on the dirty wall behind her.

She splashed some cold water on her face and glanced at the mirror one more time.

The previously random red-ish patches wrr now arranged to form words.

See you soon

Jesse sank to her knees again.

-

"You left me"

"How could you" ×2

"I'm sorry"

"It's all your fault"

-

Okay so this was supposed to still be chapter 15 but I'm an idiot and posted it too soon. Oh well, whatever.

Also there's been some tech difficulties since as you might or might not know my phone took a ≈1.8m dive screen down onto some tiles and the replacement is trash. But hey at least it's not gonna spontaneously combust if I use it for 1h like the replecement #1

-

Taglist: @heathenwhump @laves-here