The Otherkin Chronicles ¦ Book 1: Lycan

VIII: Haunted Ground

A/N: Happy Hallow's Eve/Halloween, everyone! Another large chapter, this time without an info-dump! It's 3,946 words, so enjoy! Warning: Darkness approaches...

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Damitché could not sleep that night. The scars of the First Fall were still fresh in her mind, and as she dared a glance outside her hollow, she felt them open again as the tragedy played out before her eyes on the common ground, ghastly actors on an unlit stage: her uncle shot and killed, his blood staining the boulders under which the cubs were raised, the ensuing slaughter, and her and Fangones getting up and walking away, except the last part never happened. Instead, the restless spirits got up, shook themselves clean of the gore, and returned to their former positions, reprising their phantom play. Don't look them in the eye, don't look them in the eye, she repeated to herself as she used almost all of her willpower not to scream and beg rest; that she and a few others were, in fact, avenging them, that they would have the grandest graves when this was over...

All of it spilled when the hollow-eyed face of her undead mother looked her in the eyes and simply said with a touch of scorn, "Damitché, I'm afraid you've returned far too late for that. You forgot about us, you and your brother, until we were broken and hollow, mere shades of what we once were, demented and fallen in our minds and spirits. I suggest you don't blink."

Despite her mind screaming at her not to do it, Damitché blinked, instinct overriding rationality.

Immediately, even before she had reopened her eyes, Damitché felt her life being sucked out of her, her screams ricocheting throughout the camp. A great commotion arose as her family tried to help her, but to no avail: they could not see the ghosts. Dots started clouding her vision before a gleaming flash in the moonlight dispersed the vengeful spirit that had been attempting to steal Damitché's soul.

As Sworfitch sheathed her silver sword, she immediately drew it again as she turned to face the other ghosts who had been sneaking up behind her. As she gestured to the eastern horizon wordlessly, with the tip of the silver blade surrounding the titanium core gleaming in the rising light, they shrieked as the sun peeked over the gray forest valleys and glens, bringing its bright panchromatic light to the dismal monochromatic ambiance that had diffused the clearing moments before. Mere seconds later, they fled below the ground until Oliver would greet them again. Only when they were gone did she turn around and lay a helping hand on the shoulder of her fellow wifwolf.

Damitché nearly lost her life last night, Sworfitch thought to herself, shaking her head in distaste. Theaswif's practices have gone too far this time.

Hearing someone come up behind her, she nodded to Theaswif without turning her head, grudgingly permitting her to speak. "Will she be alright?"

"If by 'alright' you mean nearly having her soul stolen from her body and possibly suffering from dementia as a result of this incident, sure, she's 'alright'," Sworfitch replied flatly, her disdain of the older woman's methods made clear by the tone. A dark glint flashed in her eyes as she turned around and continued berating her, "This has gone too far, Theaswif. Whatever the spirits whence you got the prophecy were, they weren't the friendly kind. They may be our doom if we don't leave them and their haunted ground. Damitché clearly angered them, and we need to get to the bottom of this, but first, we need to move somewhere else."

As the camp gathered around them, Hooklaw approached the two and tiredly asked, "What was all the clatter about last night? It sounded like a banshee was crying its lungs out!"

Sworfitch slowly stepped up to Hooklaw until her muzzle nearly touched his right ear, then whispered sharply, "If you had ever heard a banshee's scream, you would not have made such an understatement of how sharp and shrill they are." She continued, "Damitché nearly lost her soul to a demon posing as her mother. Had I not intervened and exorcized it with my sword, we'd have a very dead dog on our hands right now. It apparently had a grievance against her, but what it was for does not matter right now. What does matter is that we need to leave this camp and never come back."