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A House of Memories [Catherine/SOLO]
Mon Mar 04, 2024 4:10 pm
"Catherine Reed"
Moon hanging low in the sky, the slowing of footfalls marked the arrival to her destination - an old cabin, once a modest home now reclaimed by the hand of nature, plantlife bursting from what was once their brethren’s dry, woody flesh. Windows either fell out or appeared smashed, the porch long given way to insects or other creatures seeking refuge, the darkness of night only adding to the unsettling appearance of the old home.
When Farfar said the place was weathered, she definitely didn’t expect this, gently brushing fingers upon what was once a delicately carved railing, now having long succumbed to swelling and splintering from neglect. She didn’t really get why she had to come to this rickety old place for her first ‘big job’, weren’t all of those beatings and lectures, all the hours put into working her hands and body to create and destroy, all so that she could get to hollow killing?
Now she was sent off in the middle of nowhere, no hollows in sight, in a country she wasn’t familiar with, all of that to fetch something for him? If it weren’t for him offering to pay her a considerable amount, she would’ve kicked that cold dead bastard in the sack and left. Maybe he knew that.
Even so, the young lady pushed the door open, only for the damn thing to fall right off the frame and into the darkness of the home. Dust particles kicked up, the lingering scent of mold hitting her nose and stinging her throat and eyes. She’d cough, taking a step back for a moment to clear her lungs and vision. Ugh, she understood the place hadn’t been touched in a few decades, but god that grossed her out.
Rummaging through her bag, she’d pull small cardboard containers of facial masks and nylon gloves, putting them on with little delay - good thing she was always prepared for this stuff. Goggles were safely put over her eyes, her only regret being that she didn’t think to put them on before. Her throat still felt scratchy, eyes irritated, but she just had to work through it.
Clicking a flashlight on, she’d cautiously get searching the place. It was some kind of wooden talisman or something he left behind - not that she’d know what the hell he’d want that for. Someone in his position was long gone, no special trinkets were fixing that. Maybe he wanted a memento of better times…
The more she explored this place, the more unsettled she felt. It was cold, yet there was patches of mold everywhere; something about this place felt extremely off. Even so, she just cautiously kept attention to her surroundings as she searched through drawer after drawer, cabinets and underneath areas. Could’ve at least given her an idea of where to look, jackass.
Swaying light examined her surroundings carefully as she navigated the upstairs, dim moonlight broadcasting through shattered glass unto the worn carpeted floors. It wasn’t anything mindblowing, but if this was where her father grew up, she’d say he had it pretty good compared to that cramped apartment. Progressing, her attention was caught by a surprisingly intact statue sitting atop a pedestal next to a room, a wooden stag staring off at nothing with gentle eyes.
Running her fingers along it’s neck, she recognized the practice of engraving swirls and leaf-like structures onto the shape, unnecessary to the common onlooker but a detail a craftsman would understand as a further appreciation of nature spoken to life in the shape of the wood. This style, this preference, her heart sank a little with that reminder of him.
...ror…
Ice gripped her veins. Looking around wildly with the aid of the light, she tried to see where that voice had come from, a hand instinctively squeezing the grip of the knife on her back.
What was that?
…Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to do or say anything further. Raspy gasps rose from her throat.
Fuck, she hoped that was just the building settling or something, just breathe. Maybe the talisman was in a bedroom or study.
And, of course the study was cleaned out. Empty bookshelves and a dusty desk sat before her, not a scrap of knowledge to procure. Shoot. Everything else looked perfectly abandoned, why was this the only room that was deserted so far? Guess taking anything that may have been from their family was a wash - of course she wouldn’t get her hands on even some of those documents or works without a hassle. Even so, she still looked through the place.
Wait, but there was something - a tiny book, the cover had decayed but the pages seemed relatively intact. Carefully flipping through the old text as not to rip or destroy it any further, she’d realize it was a diary, and by the scrawling handwriting and the subject matters, it seemed like it was a child’s. Tangents about how his day went, intrigues of training as a Quincy, and other little details were thrown about. Was this Pappa’s? What little of she could read of the dates didn’t seem to add up…
Then, she reached a particularly strange page, covered in mold. It started with something excited, but the decay ate up anything the page, or the rest of the book for that matter, had to offer. That was weird, it was clean up until then… She had a feeling this wasn’t normal mold. Disgruntled, she’d shut the book - it was a waste of time after all.
Mahh… hhmmah..?
She froze again, but this time the itch in her throat suddenly intensified into a burning sensation, irritation building in her airway. Her eyes burned, vision blurring. It felt like someone forced cotton into her sockets and down her throat, she could hardly breathe or see properly. Hastily moving her flashlight around, it wasn’t until she felt a cold breath settle on the top of her head that she knew where to aim it, raising the light up above, atop one of the empty shelves.
Above, a white face glowed in the warmth of the light, sulfuric eyes staring round at her with incredible interest. It was difficult to make out any other details apart from a mass of darkness and fuzz from this angle. There was only one thing the girl knew for certain:
It was a Hollow.
“Shit, shit!” She’d wheeze out, immediately going for her knife to address the threat, but she felt something cold and moist crawl up her foot. Casting the light down revealed the previously plain, rotting floor was suddenly blooming with dark mold, hand-like structures racing up her legs, a sensation she could only describe as freezer burn stinging her skin. Shit, she couldn’t stay still, she had to run.
N..ot.. Mahhm…a…
Get out of here, get out of here, get the hell out of here..! Bursting through the wooden door she’d throw herself down the hallway. She was expecting a Hollow alright, but what the hell was one doing in a place like this?! It felt like she couldn’t breathe, but she just had to run! A foul flavor hit her tongue as hasty footsteps brought her to the stairs.
Mold. There was mold everywhere, pulsating and live. It wasn’t going to let her leave, crawling up the steps to push her back where she came from. Even the light of the windows were quickly being blotted out by the influence of malaise growing atop them. Knife ready, she’d look down the darkness of the hallway, two lights staring at her further into the growing darkness, the only means of making out it’s shape cast upon it.
It looked vaguely like a wolf, but not a grown one - more like an oversized puppy with none of what made it one cute. It’s upper half was fuzzy with that mold-like substance mocking fur, the lower half smooth and almost naked-looking, a ribcage showing through it’s pathetically thin skin, a mangled tail laying short and decaying.
What really got her attention was it’s legs, so gangly and deformed she wondered how it was even able to support weight. The way it moved, it didn’t seem like they had to; more like the thing’s body swayed and dragged itself slowly toward her.
Sun… Sun… Sun…
Now that she had some moment to realize what was happening, she realized - a tiny voice was talking in her head, like a little kid whispering inane childish wonderings in her ears. There was a thought or two of how this was happening, but she really didn’t want to think about the implications, she had to stay focused.
Sun… Come… Sun can take me… The presence dragged itself further, closer to her. She was sufficiently cornered, even her body felt stuck in place, difficult to move or even breathe. What a nasty thing she’d come across.
Clearly, she was meant to be ‘Sun’, that was alarmingly obvious. But she didn’t understand what the hell this thing wanted, “Take.. You?” It was a struggle to speak, but she’ force the words out.
Take Sun… Can take from Sun… So can leave… Adventure… That tiny voice grew all the more desperate and interested in her, wet sounds of movement growing closer and closer as it dragged itself on pitiful legs. What the hell was she supposed to do? Did it want her body? To leave this place?
“Why can’t…” She briefly erupted into coughing, but forced herself to speak despite the fuzz growing in her throat, “..Y-you leave on your own?”
That made it’s progression stop for a mere moment, the atmosphere unreadable, until she heard the sound of sobs ringing in her skull.
…Pappa… Said no… Mamma… Said I was too sick… Could not go…
That only seemed to make it upset, it’s tone growing a sense of saddened anger, Now everyone is gone on adventures without me… Even Mamma left me in the dark..! I do not want be sick and cold anymore..!
Gradual dragging turned into lunges. Mere feet away, and progressing fast, the Hollow was coming to claim what it wanted. Her body felt like a cold numb block, it wouldn’t move or even swing her weapon. Activating her Fullbring here probably would do more harm than good, she’d probably mistakenly drown herself and the anklemuncher would get it’s way anyhow with what little control she had over herself at the moment.
It seemed like this was coming to a battle of will… The hollow successfully got it’s way up to her, it’s scent a sickeningly old smell as it’s disgusting features climbed on her and knocked her over, feeling her body hit the ground with a hard thud, teeth gritted and eyes closed as she felt it’s influence creep all throughout her, and even beginning to reach inside of her.
“Get off me..!” She’d yell, her hoarse voice barely speaking above the mold formations in her airway, “You don’t even n-need… My body..! GET OFF!”
Was this how she was going to die? To some stupid animal that couldn’t be reasoned with? Anger, fear, hatred, it all boiled in her… But beneath it all.. Tears formed in her eyes.
She wished she was back home, even if her father wasn’t around, if she just got to see him one more time before…
..Pappa…
As her world darkened, a memory that wasn’t her’s hit her vision. Small hands, touching a cloth held by feminine arms. A voice, gently introducing the little bundle, moving a layer of cloth to properly reveal a small, fat face - a baby, hardly a few hours old, dark curly hair atop it’s head. Smells, feelings, incapable of having words attached to fully convey it, but this was an extraordinary, joyful scene to the lens she was made to peer through.
That was when she realized what that first word she heard was.
“..Brother..?” Hardly a gasp escaped her. The progression of the creature invading her body, with what fight she had in her to push it out, had suddenly ceased it’s struggle with her. Was that what the diary was talking about? Now that she really thought about it, even in her foggy thoughts, Pappa… Pappa had an older brother, didn’t he? It was easy to forget - she never heard anything past that simple fact.
“..Is.. That's why… You wanna leave..?”
..Brooor…. Brooooor…. Where is Bror…? That sad little voice creaked and cried in what little holding of her mind it had taken, Adventure… Take Sun… Find Bror…
She knew what to do.
“Just… Wait.. Give me a minute.” It was a struggle, but in this fleeting moment, she had the freedom to force her hand into her bag, carefully and weakly feeling through it to pull a wallet. In that wallet, between two fingers, a picture was pulled out and sloppily unfolded. She’d stick the image up to the creature’s face, “Look, look damn you…”
A small gasp went off in her head. The photo portrayed a rather large man with dark curls, happily holding close to a young woman with long waving hair that spilled down her shoulders onto her forearms. They looked like they were having fun at a party.
“Kristoff… Kristoff Ulberg… That’s your brother…”
Something swelled in the Hollow’s eye sockets. Were those tears?
Bror… Alive…?
“Yes… He’s fine. Had a kid and everything.”
She felt that mold retreat, a crawling sensation in her throat compelling her to cough, a chunk of disgusting filth came flying out of her mouth as she sputtered, lifting herself by her elbows into a sitting position, the Hollow absolutely enamored by the picture.
She couldn’t hear it anymore, all that could be divined was it was temporarily distracted, cooing and fawning over the photo. The grip on her knife tightened as she finally regained control.
Foul blood spilled onto the floors of the abandoned home, it’s final occupant slain and put to rest.
END |
- LillianVeteran Member
- Joined : 2017-03-31
Posts : 3707
Age : 24
Location : Wandering The Wastes
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Re: A House of Memories [Catherine/SOLO]
Mon Mar 04, 2024 4:11 pm
"Catherine Reed"
Fire lapped away the darkness as ceremonial mutterings took the silence. She’d found the remains bundled up in the basement, alongside the talisman she was set off to find. Giving proper funeral rites was only natural at this point, the immature bones alongside the Hollow’s rancid flesh burning away, released into the sky. The smell was indescribably horrible, but she was used to it.
Still feeling sick, she’d keep downing fresh water from her bottle, reminiscing about what just happened. Did Farfar know one of his kids was still prowling the place? God, she hated that guy more… For not telling her, and for not giving a damn kid a proper funeral. Even if that wouldn’t have done anything about the Hollow, that was gross just wrapping him up and leaving him in the basement to rot away. He was pretty young, on top of that, regardless of the bones being pretty big for what was probably a tween; it seemed like illness really did take him.
No wonder Pappa never talked about him, he probably died when he was pretty young. With a low sigh, she’d let her eyes shut, lingering on that memory that belonged to him. Would that be how she felt, if her mother survived, and had another kid? No, it was pointless wondering, what a dumb thought she just entertained…
END |
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