Festival of the Dead

Chapter 12: Mystra

 The lights came back on, and Mystra found herself all alone in the room. She slowly stood up. "Gia?" she called out. She took a few small steps from her seat. She repeated her call, this time even louder. Still no answer. Afraid for her life, she raced up the stairs and straight out the door, which was left wide open. She didn't even bother to contemplate why that was, she just wanted to get out of there. She ran for about five minutes before realizing something: she had no idea how to get home. She went back to the house and sought out the carriage that brought her there. To her dismay, it was gone.

Accepting that she had no other option, Mystra began to wander about, hoping to find some sign of home. She began to walk around the deep, abandoned forest, taking in its beauty and peacefulness. Had she not been so tense when Gia brought her through, she would have taken the time then, instead of now for the first time. As she delved deeper into the forest, she noticed something familiar. A tall statue that took the shape of a man astride a horse towered above her. Now she knew where she was, and she didn't like it. But she kept moving in that direction. She had no choice but to. Once she reached her old house, she would be able to make her way back to her father's home.

Upon approaching her former home, stomach lurched and her heart began to race. Her breathing hitched once she saw the stain of blood-her blood-on the steps. Not knowing what she was doing, she climbed them. She opened the door and looked around. Other than the dust and cobwebs, nothing looked any different. She felt as though she was no longer in control of her body as she began to take slow steps into the house. She climbed the stairs to the upper floor, and as she did, she began to ponder whether or not his body had been found. Although everyone knew of the incident, now that she thought about it, there had been no funeral. She simply assumed that the body was buried and it was not brought to her attention. But that thought quickly died the moment she opened the door to her old bedroom. She was hit right in the face with a terrible stench that made Gia's tea and biscuits want to make a reappearance. The sight she was greeted with only enhanced that urge. Strewn on the floor with the kindler standing erect from the throat was the body of Maxwell Carter.

His eyes were staring blankly above him, and his last emotions were displayed plainly on his white (and once handsome) face; a mixture of anger and horror. Where the kindler's tip pierced his skin was a large black ring of decaying flesh. His once fine clothing was covered in dust, and had holes all over. Mystra couldn't take much more of this sight. Had it been the body of any other man, she would not have felt the slightest bit queasy. But seeing him there, dead and destroyed...she couldn't handle it.

Before she could even turn around, a sound from behind her made her jump and forced her to look in its direction-whatever direction that was. The sound resembled a laugh, and an oddly familiar laugh it was. Mystra dismissed it as just another sound from the house. Although sturdy and well-built, at always seemed to creak for some reason. She left the room and closed the door behind her, wishing that she could forget what she just saw. As she began to walk back down the stairs, she heard another sound similar to the one she heard before. This time she froze. That was most certainly not the house creaking. She picked up her pace when she heard it again. And again and again, and at the last time she froze. She felt a presence behind her. She was near the bottom of the stairs now. She could either make a run for it, or turn around and see what's behind her.

CHOICE 3

If you would like Mystra to keep running, continue to Chapter 13

If you would like Mystra to turn around, turn to Chapter 14