My Writing Prompts

Him

The ricket-racket of the ceiling fan spooked the scarcity of deers that passed by the old abandoned cottage in the middle of a forest. There's been various tales about it. People considered the place haunted. The old tale had been told many times- but the versions often twisted.

A few twenty miles away was the Roberson household, in which lived an old couple. Nobody knew their real names, so they went by 'Mr. and Mrs. Roberson'. The mansion they lived in was in the country side, but it was also secluded and hidden well away from the world.
Voices emerged from the house, it sounded like two people- except for the fact that when one person spoke, their voice multiplied by two- one multiplicand sounding inhumanly deep and the other sounding extremely high-pitched. They seemed to be arguing about something- and they weren't speaking English or any other such language known by human, it could've passed for gibberish.

There was a flash.

A man, dressed in navy blue robes, appeared in outside the gates that led to the mansion. He had instantly heard the voices that were inside, and muttered something incoherent under his breath. He then entered the mansion. When he walked, it seemed like he was floating over the ground- without moving a single foot.
He halted as he reached the door. He made a gesture with his hands and the door opened.
As soon as he was in, the door shut close, with a loud bang. The noise seemed to have been heard by those creatures, because the house suddenly got eerily quiet.
As soon as the man walked into the room, the creatures bowed. The creatures were both dark green in colour- and by dark, I mean, the darkest of darks. They had hair almost everywhere, and it would gross any hygienic being out- in their cheeks, palms, fingernails, toenails, and even their tongues-

The man in robes gave a slight nod, indicating the rather weird creatures to stand back up. The man then took out a cane from the pockets of his robes. He tapped the ground eleven times, and the room lit up.

The man's face was now clearly visible. It was extremely pale, like paper. His lips were burgundy and his eyes- there were more to them. Or maybe less, since his was less of an eyeball. Yes, you heard that right. No eyeball. Empty sockets. All that was visible was black nothingness.

"How's the hunt going?" He asked the two.
"We- we lost a few raiders at Cumbria, sir." the first creature said, fearing the worst that was about to come.
"WE LOST RAIDERS?" boomed the man, loudly, "YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS, SATIUS?!" he yelled.

The one who claimed to be Satius cowered slightly and held his head down low.

He turned to the other creature and asked it "Trica, how many did we lose?"
"S-seventy two, sir" Trica replied.
"SEVENTY TWO?" he shouted, "HOW MANY DO WE EVEN HAVE LEFT?!"

"Twenty three... sir" Trica responded, slowly.
The man inhaled, held his breath for seven extremely slow seconds, and exhaled.

I would end you two if I could..." he started, "But I need you two for the hunt, especially if we find him" he trailed off.

"Him..." he repeated in a low voice.

Another flash and he was gone. Vanished into thin air.

-

(23rd June 2021)

562 Words