hyrded
⠀ ⠀ maybe i just want to test your limits—- see how far your knowledge extends. tired already?
eludisms
hyrded
⠀ is that fear i sense? from someone as powerful as you, i didn’t expect that.
hyrded
⠀ nature is my second home, so this forest sanctuary is merely a shadow. don’t bother with the weapon—- i’m not afraid. something troubling you?
hyrded
⠀ if i weren’t so careful, i’d say you certainly enjoy toying with your prey. don’t you?
salvague
were you trying to sneak up on me? or are you just shy.
eludisms
|| ceebee & opt. specify while i suffer at work <33
eludisms
@hyrded || i don’t think we have! i’ll send stuff out after work, but feel free to drop i’d love to interact!!
hyrded
&. i don’t think we’ve interacted before ? i don’t recognize your accounts but, if you’re comfortable interacting with different fandoms then, a short spam between hostility, intrigued and curious on here. i don’t mind spamming in return if you’re alright with that?
mortalweeps
/ goodness this is a masterpiece.
eludisms
ARE YOU A͟F͟R͟A͟I͟D͟ OF THE DARK? DO YOU SHUDDER AT. THE THOUGHT OF CREATURES LURKING IN THE SHADOWS? DID YOUR PARENTS TELL YOU ABOUT ALL OF THE THINGS. THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT?
ζ ζ ζ
CLOSELY, LISTEN CLOSELY TO THESE WORDS: DO NOT ENTER THE F͟O͟R͟E͟S͟T͟. NOT IN THE MORNINGS WHEN THE SUN IS HIGH AND LIGHT BOUNCES OFF EACH LEAF. DON'T THINK ABOUT THE AFTERNOONS, WHERE, SLOWLY, THE LIGHT GETS SNUFFED FROM THE EARTH. AND WHEN NIGHTTIME COMES, LOCK YOUR DOORS. KEEP YOUR WINDOWS SHUT. DON'T LOOK OUTSIDE. DON'T LISTEN TO THE CREAKS AND GROANS. IGNORE EVERY SOUND, EVERY PEEP. AND DON'T EVER, DO NOT EVER STEP FOOT INTO THE WOODS.
YOU ASK WHY, KID? DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH? EVIL LURKS IN THERE, SOME REAL BAD STUFF, THAT NOT EVEN NIGHTMARES COULD MAKE UP. MISSING POSTERS AND DEFORESTATION AIN'T GONNA BRING THOSE FOOLS BACK. NOTHING WILL. ONCE IT GETS YA, YOU'RE GONE FOR GOOD. THE TREES? THE TREES ARE ALIVE. THEY'RE W͟A͟T͟C͟H͟I͟N͟G͟ YOU.
eludisms
W͟H͟A͟T͟ ͟ ͟ ͟I͟S͟ ͟ ͟ ͟I͟T͟? —
THE TRUTH IS MOSTLY UNKNOWN, STORIES AND ACCUSATIONS PASSED DOWN FROM GENERATIONS ARE ALL THATS LEFT TO UNCOVER WHAT IT MAY BE:
A DEMON, A CENTAUR, AN OMEN.
WHATEVER IT IS, IT'S NOT HUMAN, NOT ENTIRELY. SOME SUGGEST IT TAKES PART IN THE WILD HUNT, RANSACKING VILLAGES, AND DESTROYING ANYONE OR ANYTHING IN ITS PATH.
ALL THAT'S TRULY KNOWN IS THAT THE BEAST IS NEVERMORE THAN A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT, A HORSE RIDE AWAY FROM PUTTING SOMEONE IN THE GRAVE, ALL THE WHILE LEAVING BLOOD IN ITS WAKE.
W͟H͟O͟ ͟ ͟ ͟I͟S͟ ͟ ͟ ͟I͟T͟? —
IT BLENDS INTO THE BACK OF A MIDNIGHT MARE, A CLOAKED SHADOW SINKING INTO THE SADDLE.
A FACE NEVER SEEN, ITS BODY BECOMES ONE WITH THE NIGHT. ITS VOICE IS THE GRAVEL OF THE GROUND, THE WHISPER OF THE LEAVES THROUGH THE WIND:
MELODIC, HORRIFYING, MADDENING.
AS IT GETS CLOSER, ITS VOICE BECOMES LOUDER, A SOUND OF CHAIN LINKS AND LAUGHTER, AND THEN. . . SILENCE. IF YOU ARE NOT DEAD, YOU WILL BE. IT'S COMING.