Hounds of the Damned {Closed}

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Wed Feb 17, 2016 11:56 pm

{This is a private role-play between FaddedFox and Sirius Baren. You may follow along, but do not post. If you realllly want to join, please pm me, FaddedFox, with your idea of a character concept or plot twist you want to add and a writing sample. I will then share this with Sirius Baren and we'll make a decision. Thank you.}

There once was a man who had 13 children. He was a poor man, but he loved his family dearly and ensured that they always had enough food to fill their little bellies and promote their growth. He couldn't provide them with the best of everything, but he and his family were always happy and very close to each other. When his 13th child was born, he decided that the child should have a Godfather that would aid him and help ensure he had what he needed for you see, he was a sickly child and was in bed more often than naught.

So, the devoted father left his family in search of a suitable Godfather. Upon the road, he met God who asked if he/she could be the child's Godfather. He promised the child health and longevity. Alas, the father shook his head. "God is an advocate of poverty," he declined. The man continued on his way and happened upon the devil who asked to be the son's godfather and promised wealth and riches beyond compare. The father again declined, saying, "The devil tricks men." A third figure the man happened upon then. The looming figure gave a bow and extended its bony claws as he introduced himself as Death. He to asked to be the boy's Godfather and promise him fame and fortune. The father debated a moment before he agreed. "Death shall be my son's godfather so that he may be protected from and by Death."

The boy soon grew healthy, vibrant and full of life. Never again did he fall ill and be bed ridden. Upon the boy's 16th birthday, Death came to their door and coveted the young man into his lair decorated with candles representing the lives of everything living upon the surface. He sat the boy down and instructed him then, "I will make you a famous physician as I promised your father. I will give you the ability to look upon any creature and see their life line. You will be able to discern whether the creature will live through illness or die and whether treatment will be effective. A word of caution my Son. This gift comes with a price as all things do. As you have been touched by death, so to will your hands bring about the cold stillness as a burned out candle. Never again will you be able to touch another living thing with bare hands. You will live a solitary life."

The boy nodded in understanding and from that day forward always wore gloves and clothes that covered his skin to prevent dealing death himself. Over the years, Death was true to his word and the boy become an influential and famed physician who traveled the world on call. He lived happily a while until he met a bandit who murdered a family to gain riches who had sustained an injury and called upon his help. The boy did not want to save the man and was furious that his lifeline would not end upon his injury so he cheated and took off his glove to take the man's life. Death was furious and appeared before his Godchild.

"You have no right to judge who lives or dies. That is beyond your power and fate will not be trifled with. All men and women die when there time has been ordained. Take this warning to heart and do not cross me again." The man nodded and continued on his way. The physician then happened upon a woman he adored. He loved her beyond all else and wanted to provide her with anything she wished. Unfortunately, she was ailing and her health was fading fast. He knew he could never truly be with her since his touch would give her death but he did not want her vibrant life to end so early either. So he ventured into his Godfather's cave and lit another candle for the woman to heal her and give her a new life. She thanked him for his healing touch though she did not know the nature of her recovery.

Death appeared once more and enveloped the physician then and dragged him away from human civilization, back to the forest where he had given the boy his gift. "You have crossed me again but with an even greater injustice by stealing into my lair. Have I not given you what I promised?"

"Please, Godfather, take the gift back! I meant no harm. I wish to marry her. I have want of nothing else."

Death tapped a bony finger against his hidden mouth before he extended a hand to call upon the physician's candle. "This is your candle, boy. You presume to pass judgement on others and think nothing of the greater consequences. You gave that woman life but in so doing, your own life will be shortened," Death admonished and the boy watched in horror as his candle's length shortened till it was nearly snuffed out. "Go to the woman you sacrificed your life for. I'll stay it long enough for you to say goodbye," Death said then before vanishing.

The young man rushed to find his beloved. When he found her waiting he smiled and ran to her arms. Before he could say anything however, his candle was snuffed out. The man dropped in his beloved arms, his unspoken words of love and farewell died with him. Death would not be crossed and knew no mercy. So the woman buried the physician, forever unknowing about his sacrifice and love for her.

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Though this legend of Godfather death and the boy who performed miracles has been passed down by the generations, there is always something that is lost in translation. This story has always ended with death but in truth, Death's godchild never died. Death would be far to easy and quick an end for someone who tampered with destiny. He was given a fate worse than death. He was cursed to live on the earth. He would never die of old age, but everything he touched withered, decayed, and died. The boy's longing for love has now cursed him to never hold someone he loves close again. He has been sentenced to live forever alone. The very woman he had tried to save with his sacrifice was the first to fall victim to his touch and she wasn't the last. A piece of the man's soul seemed to die with her. It was the greatest sin for a sworn healer to take life and that was all he could do now. So, the young man sequestered himself to the desolate forest where he had first gained his healing touch and prayed to keep others safe with his self proclaimed banishment.

The forest soon earned the name 'Hellish Gate' and 'Hounds Abyss'. The center of the forest had decayed and nothing grew there. Not even animals dared go near the center of this ominous place. Strange noises could often be heard coming from the forest and on full moons, people whispered of werewolves that ran through the maze of trees and hunted any human that neared the forest. Men brave and stupid ventured into the forest to prove their worth and none ever returned alive to tell of the wonders... and horrors, that they encountered in its depths.

Over the generations, the stories of old and the warnings were forgotten. People knew that the forest was haunted and new fables replaced the old ones. Now people spoke of a great and powerful wizard that resided in the center of the Hellish Gate. It is said that this great wizard has the power to heal any affliction, but at a cost. Some consider this 'wizard' as the devil himself but no one has truly ever seen the miracles. Humans still venture in and are never heard from again. Many assume that the wizard is a cannibal and he devours everyone and anything that steps foot into his domain. Still, the promise of divine healing urges many to try their luck. And who knows? Maybe the wizard can grant you what you desire most.

And this is where our story begins, or maybe ends. The Hellish Gate is a monstrous forest with gnarled trees and a plethora of secrets. Odd noises can be heard from every upturned stone and eyes that trail in shadow. The forest is a labyrinth and adventurers can easily find themselves lost and meeting very hungry predators. Maybe that is all that resides in the forest and no fabled wizard and maybe Death's godchild found a release in death after all. A darkness looms over the forest none-the-less; a cloud that never dissipates.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Thu Feb 18, 2016 12:51 am

For as long as Rosalie could remember, she was forbidden to enter the forest. Rumors were whispered behind hands and stories of monsters and demons were told to children at bedtime to scare them into behaving. Often the children would tease each other and dare one another to go up to the dark forest edge and place a hand on one of the trees. Those who were brave enough wore it as a badge of pride to have touched the gnarled bark of the twisted oaks that barred the path to the forest.

”They say there is a devil who lives inside who will skin, boil, and then eat you!” a strapping youth said ominously as the young crowd of kids stood before him and his partner in crime.

“Oh yes, he has red eyes, and uses his magic for his own sick and twisted amusement.” The friend spoke quietly.

They were standing within the shadow of the forest, though still a good distance apart. A young Rosalie was staring at the trees as if she were trying to decipher the black secrets hidden within.

“They also say he has the power over life and death! If he touches you with his right hand, you will live a long and prosperous life. If he touches you with the left, than you will die before the next full moon.” The first boy stared into the eyes of his audience.

“Those who go and touch a tree are given a life of good luck. Only those brave enough and prove themselves are given the blessing of the wizard.” The second boy suggested and many of the children stared in wide-eyed wonder.

Some of them looked eager at the thought of eternal luck, but their fear held them back.

“But be warned!” the first boy spoke. “They say the woods are full of monsters from the darkest pit of hell. If they even so much as catch a whiff of your fear, they’ll come out of the trees and eat you up!” he shouted causing all the children to jump.

Rosalie glared at the two boys upset that they had scared her. The children whispered and shook their heads. No one would tempt that fate even for good luck.

“Oh ridiculous! It’s just a ghost story!” Rosalie finally perked up in annoyance.

“No it’s not!” the older boy, Jin snided.

“Yes it is.” She put her hands on her hips.

“Well if it’s just a story than you’ll go touch the tree.” The second boy, Orik, taunted. “Unless your afraid!” the two bullies laughed.

“I am not!” she stomped her foot.

“Are too! Are too!” they sang.

Rosalie felt ruffled and let a frustrated sound pass between her teeth. She walked forcefully past them and approached the forest.

A silence came over the spectating children. Rosalie faltered as she was only ten steps from the darkness. There was very little light that penetrated through the thick canopy of leaves. It was very dark between the trees.

“Haha! I told you you were scared!” Orik laughed and the other children joined in, although a bit half-heartedly.

Without a second thought she marked right up to the line of trees. She looked over her shoulder, stuck her tongue out, and took one step into the forest.

A chilling silence greeted her. Her hand faltered as she had risen it. There was something there in the shadows. Rosalie squinted her eyes and a dark pair of blood eyes glared at her.

In a wild panic she slapped the tree and quickly marched away with as much dignity she could muster.

Ever since then, Rosalie always believed a little bit more strongly than the other children. Even now at a young age of 19 she still believed those stories even though the rest of the children had grown out of such fantasies.

That was why she found herself standing before the forest with a thick scarlet cloak wrapped around her body. It was comforting and gave her strength. It was a gift from her betrothed the day that their betrothal was announced.

Rosalie was born to rather simple and modest parents. They lived on the outskirts of the village. Their small house was the closest one and lived in the forest’s shadow. Many of the townsfolk often criticized her parents for building their house that close. They said they were tempting fate. One day the monsters would step out of the forest and kill them where they slept.

That day came before Rosalie’s first birthday. It was a miracle that she survived. No one knew what to think when the little babe had been spared in her cradle, wrapped in a blanket of red.

After that Rosalie was brought to her uncle’s home. He was quite wealthy and perhaps the wealthiest man in the town. He was not married and took Rosalie in as his own child and heir. Rosalie would inherit his estate and all of his worldly possessions.

As Rosalie grew, her beauty was quickly shining through and many men of the town sought for her affections. Rosalie didn’t know how to handle them and often came off as aloof. Her uncle took it upon himself to arrange a promising marriage for her. The only man good enough for her lived in the town only a few hours ride away.

The man, Alexander, was from a fine family and of noble stock. Rumor had he was even descended from a royal bloodline. The wealth his family had dwarfed that of Rosalie’s uncle. Many people didn’t believe it to be a very good match, but Alexander came to call on request of Rosalie’s uncle. From the moment he saw her, he was smitten by her beauty and desired her.

Rosalie wasn’t sure how she felt about Alexander. He often found fault in others and criticized others for their flaws.

However, it was a good match for her. Her uncle was getting old. He wouldn’t live forever, and she liked none of the boys from her own town. Many whispered behind her back that she was a type of witch or she-devil herself. How else would the monsters have left her alone when she was a baby?

Rosalie knew her uncle’s health was deteriorating. She saw him grow weaker every day. It was yestermorn that she had brought her uncle his breakfast that she decided something had to be done.

”Uncle, I have brought you your breakfast.” Rosalie sang sweetly as she knocked on the door before pushing it in with her hip. She dropped the tray, the eggs and porridge flying across the floor in a splattered pattern, and rushed to the bedside.

“Uncle, Uncle!” she cried as he lay limply, a snowy kerchief stained with blood. He shifted at her worried cries.

“Do not fret my dear, it is nothing,” he wheezed.

“No it’s not!” Rosalie took the kerchief and dabbed the blood from the corner of his mouth. “You’re dying Uncle, something must be done.” She felt the tears sting in her eyes and her throat burned.

“It is my time, one cannot stop Death’s hand.” He consoled her. “I have lived a good life. I have watched you become a beautiful woman. My sister and her husband would be proud of who you’ve become.” His eyes crinkled in that wonderful smile she had loved ever since she could remember.

“Don’t talk that way, you are still young yet Uncle. You have many years.” A crystal tear leaked from her eye and left a shimmering path down her face as it stained a spot on the large quilt her uncle was tucked under.

“No Rosalie, I do not.” A measure of fear entered his eyes at this point. “Do not fret my dear, Alexander will take care of you and he will make you a fine husband.”

Rosalie’s jaw stiffened and she looked away. “I am merely the rose he carries at his side. He does not understand me Uncle.” She frowned.

“It is a rare thing to find true love Rosalie. I do not wish for you to have want for anything. Take comfort that Alexander has grown so fond of you. Many a man will stray from his wife, but I believe Alexander will not.” He spoke gently and patted her hand.

Rosalie shook her head but said nothing more.

It was the night that followed that all of the rumors had rushed back to her. It was said that Hell’s Gate was at the heart of the forest. The demon that lived in the darkness had the power to take away and give life.

Rosalie was determined. She wasn’t going to lose her uncle, not yet. She had been brave enough once before to step into the forest. She had to be brave again.

A child ran down her spine as the glowing eyes appeared in her mind. There was dark magic here. Monsters of the night prowled through these woods. Was it possible to reach the center without being spotted?

Rosalie steeled herself. It was a risk she had to take. If she did nothing than her uncle would surely die. At least this way there was a chance, even if it was a miniscule chance.

You can do this. What’s the worst in there? Werewolves aren’t real. There’s no monsters. Just wolves. You can handle wolves. She said stubbornly in her mind even though she doubted her own words.

Her feet felt stuck. She wanted to move. She wanted to enter the trees. There was something that spoke to her bones telling her to turn back. It told her to leave. She would only find death, fear, and pain between the black bark.

She emptied her mind of every thought. She closed her eyes and took in a slow breath. A gentle breeze tugged strands of her hair out of her hood--they were the color of corn silk. She moved forward and didn’t open her eyes until she felt the cold and hollow embrace of the forest.

No turning back. The words resonated in her mind as she walked at a quick pace dodging around the trees and over roots that jutted through the cracked earth. Her senses were assaulted with the deep smells of the forest. The tried to close off her ears as much as possible from the foreign and frightening sounds that were assaulting her heightened senses.

It couldn’t be too far to the center of the forest, at least, that was what Rosalie hoped.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Thu Feb 18, 2016 1:41 am

The deeper that the young woman marched, the darker the forest became. The trees were thick and their plentiful bounty of leaves blocked the sun, sending the rest of the world into eternal night. There were no beautiful flowers that bloomed. What flower would grace this cursed land without so much as a sliver of light? No, all there was left to the abyss were the molted and disfigured forms of the trees stretching their arms higher into the sky almost begging for the warmth denied them. Even the roots fought the bonds of the earth trying to grasp the elusive glow.

Snake vines constricted around the trees or hung from the branches and the eerie shadows cast illusions on the woman's mind. One moment she was staring at a vine and the next, a viper ready to strike. Of course it was just imagination, right? The silence however was so thick, you'd need a sword to cut through it. Not a living soul seemed to tred the earth. There was a rustle here or there indicating that something was moving. The air was suffocating and clawing the girl's throat as she inhaled. All in all, the forest itself hated the presence of the trespasser. Branches clawed at her fine clothing and soft skin intent on leaving a mark. Every time the rough fingers cut her, her life's elixir stained the knots and lifted her scent as a beacon to the creatures that did dwell in the deep.

The woman was not alone. There was something lurking, watching. A creature had begun following the naive and fragile human. It had been tailing her for near an hour and it was getting closer, crawling in her steps and hiding in her shadow. It blended into the environment like only a resident of this hollow place could. Every nook and crany aided in its disguise. And it wanted to play. It clicked its jaw, tail slicing the air behind it in anticipation as it drooled. It intentionally made the bushes and leaves rattle at odd intervals and even gave an echoing growl. The fear it tasted in the air was worth it. It wasn't often that foolish humans came into the forest after all. It finally had the chance to get a rise out of others and he had a job to do. No human was allowed to reach the center of the Hounds Abyss. Killing her too quickly however would mean his distraction would end. Who wanted their new shiny toy chewed to nothing in a matter of minutes?

At last however, the woman was getting far too close to the center. It gave another low rumble as it began to prowl forward, shoulders arched high and razor claws kneading the brittle dirt. The creature's obsidian coat complimented the fake night easily as the whip tendrils rose from its fur and main. To an untrained eye they would appear like simple tails or vines but they were as strong as steel and far more flexible than a regular tail. The tendrils lashed out then and slashed at the woman's legs. The hell hound let out a blood-curdling howl, its burning hues flashing in the darkness and raised its scythe tail in warning. It's lips pulled back in a snear to reveal glistening fangs that wanted desperately to sink into the woman's flesh. It gave a bark, saliva running around its lips and dripping to the floor as it lunged forward.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Thu Feb 18, 2016 10:09 am

The air was so thick it felt as though it were trying to drown her. The silence of the trees was deafening and it kept Rosalie on edge as she soldiered on. She felt the thin needles of the trees grasp at her, trying to hold her back, but she pushed on. She stumbled over a root she had not seen and hissed as she felt a particularly nasty branch slice a thin red line down her cheek.

Rosalie pulled out of the clutch of the branches before she stopped and touched her face. Her arms her littered with small marks. She sighed in frustration. Perhaps this was not a good idea. She didn’t have any idea where she was going. She was heading in a general direction and for all she knew, she was lost.

I’m not giving up! She told herself firmly and began to walk again.

A deep and rumbling growl echoed through the trees. Rosalie felt her body stiffen and she craned her neck to try and peer through the darkness. She felt her flight or fight instinct begin to rise and it was telling her desperately to run. She shook her head. She couldn’t give into her fear now. She walked more quickly and heard the rustle of leaves every so often.

Whatever it was was getting closer.

Please, please let me escape whatever demon haunts my steps. She pleaded to whatever god would listen to her.

Rosalie was unaware when the hound had approached close enough that she could have spotted him if she had but turned around. She felt the pain in her legs before she realized what had happened. She could feel warmth spreading down her snowy calves and the panic shot through her like wildfire.

She glanced over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. Her body was near paralyzed with fear. The creature that was staring at her, jowls dripping in what she hoped was spit, was no wolf. Rosalie didn’t have a word for it. All she knew was that she was the prey.

The howl rattled around her body and shook her heart in its ivory cage. Run Rosalie, RUN! a voice whispered into her mind and as the monster lunged forward, she took off as quickly as she could. The adrenaline coursed through her body and she moved as if her feet were on fire. She no longer paid attention to where she was going. She no longer cared that the trees were grasping and clawing at her in an attempt to snare her.

Rosalie was the rabbit.

The pain in her legs was gone. Her only desire was to get free, to move, to escape this predator of the night.

Panic surged through her as her foot caught on another treacherous tree root. She flew forward, her hands scraping in the dirt and and groaned from the new pain that blossomed on the places her body had made hard contact with the ground.

Before a thought could come to her about her foolish decision to enter the land of the damned, or her uncle who lay dying, or the fact that now Alexander would have no bride; a horrific scream filled her ears. She realized it was her own as she felt fire engulf her side where the sharp claws dug into her supple flesh as if it were nothing but butter.

Rosalie twisted and let out another horrific scream as the pain was threatening to knock her out. She could feel her life leeching out of her body and staining the blighted ground. She stared into the face of Death as it approached her and she knew her young life was about to be snuffed out.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Thu Feb 18, 2016 2:31 pm

The hell hound could have easily caught up to the girl but it wanted to chase something. The forest itself had very little wildlife and most of it stayed far, far away from him and its companion. The animals weren't stupid after all. They knew where there was danger and where it should never trod. The human animal was less intelligent in that respect though it did provide a certain sport for the hound. He almost wished more humans were stupid enough to venture this deep. He was surprised it was a female human though. Generally it was the male of the species that came into the forest to test their resolve.

The hell hound gave a snarl as it picked up the pace. It was time to end the game. He leaped off the gnarled roots with ease and while they slowed his prey, it helped him move faster for all he had to do was leap instead of run. He shoved off the trees, leaving the natural scenery bleeding its sap. It didn't take much longer before the hound clawed and bit at his two-legged rabbit and brought her down to the ground. She fell easily before him. It truly was no competition. The hound seemed to chuckle down at his frightened victim and snorted at her, spraying her with his spit, her blood, and the foul breath of ashen decay. He watched as the light began to fade from her eyes. She was going to fall asleep soon from fright and blood loss. Before he could finish the girl off however, the hounds ears perked up and it raised its head.

"Chaos, enough," called a smooth voice in the dark.

The hell hound cocked its head to the side confused. Why was its companion telling him to stop? This was his job, wasn't it? He had only done his task. The dog gave a growling whine as if inquiring as much to the human that stepped out of the darkness. The hound pulled away from the female on the ground and sat down like a good obedient puppy. It watched with russet eyes as his friend approached. The man reached out and ruffled the hound's head and scratched its ear to let it know it had done nothing wrong as he knelt down beside the woman.

The stranger wore a cloak that seemed to be cut from the darkness of the forest itself. His hands were uncovered and he leaned heavily against a wooden staff. He moved his head as he observed the woman before he turned to the hound at his side. "Chaos, I don't have my gloves on me. You'll need to carry her home and bind her wound on her side or she'll bleed out by the time we get home." The man stood then and waited.

The hound gave its growling as if trying to speak to the human as he began to morph. The hound's body made an awful cracking and popping noise as its shifted. Fur dropped off the body as if he were diseased to reveal peachy, human skin. His claws shortened and the whip tendrils receded to become short black hair that draped around a very human face. The creature retained its tail and ears and its smoldering eyes gazed at the cloaked man and the girl. A spiked collar was now visible on the creature's neck and it jingled with his movements. The hell hound shook off the rest of its wolfish form before it turned tot he girl and ripped parts of her clothes to bind her side to prevent her from bleeding out as instructed.

"Why are you saving her?" Chaos asked the cloaked figure then in a gruff voice. "I thought it was your prerogative to keep people out of the forest. You've never had qualms about letting the humans die before. Why is she different?"

"I don't like it when they die, you know that. And besides, she's a woman out here alone. She's probably lost. As soon as we heal her, we'll send her on her way."

"We heal her? Did you hit your head or something? I don't heal."

The cloaked man just sighed. "Chaos..."

"All right, all right," he hound grumbled and pulled the woman up into his arms and whipped his tail behind him.

The three individuals then made their way quickly to the house in the center of the forest. As they neared the humble abode, it was obvious that everything was... dead. The trees were little more than skeletons and the dirty was cracked and gray. There were hints of attempts to grow things but it was all a mass of dried leaves and sickly twigs. There was no bird or insect here. It was a wasteland and one could even say it was the Underworld itself with the lifelessness it portrayed. It was hollow and tragic just like its host. The hooded figure opened the door and the hell-hound quickly lay the woman gently down on his bed. Once its job was done, the hound pulled away to sit in a wooden rocking chair where he had a soft cushion and curled up before it started to lick at its arm in an attempt to clean himself since he now had dirt and blood caked on his skin.

The shrouded finger quickly pulled on his gloves and compiled the herbs he had collected over the years and mixed the necessary ingredients to create an antibacterial gel before he filled another bowl with water and grabbed a set of clean rags. The man set to work cleaning up the injuries his pet had inflicted on the young woman. The injury on her side was rather deep but they had stopped the blood flow quickly. The man then quickly grabbed his thread and needle and closed the wound and cleaned the area. He was grateful the woman was asleep. Her body gave involuntary groans and moved in her pain but Chaos provided help in that regard and kept the woman from moving around too much. When he was finally done treating the woman, he threw away the bloody cloth and cleaned up the station while Chaos covered the now naked woman in the blanket.

"Hey Ciarán, are you seriously going to just let her go back home? You know she'll tell the villagers 'bout us," Chaos stated then and walked over to the hooded man and dropped his chin on his shoulder to watch him as he washed his gloves.

"Yes, I am going to let her go home. Whatever she says won't be believed by the towns people. What is she going to say? That she saw a werewolf and a wizard? People say that as it is."

"Yeah but she could tell them where to go."

Ciarán just laughed. "Everyone knows we are in the center of the forest, Chaos. There is little added information she'll be able to provide. And she is a woman. That unfortunately means no one is going to listen to her fairy tales. They'll just say she had a nightmare and that she was attacked by a wolf. You needn't fret so much. You are already dead so they can't hurt you. I have full faith in your abilities and my touch will be their end anyway."

Chaos just rolled his eyes and pulled away. "Just saying," he grumbled before he went back to his rocking chair. Ciarán sighed softly to himself and sat down beside the bed to keep vigil over the injured woman.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Thu Feb 18, 2016 6:28 pm

The pain was starting to fade as Rosalie was slipping quickly away from the world of the living. The great beast stood over her and snorted. She didn’t even feel the mixture of her blood and his spit spray on her. She didn’t feel quite so afraid now. She was numb.

A word was spoken. The haze of her flickering mind was unable to decode the sounds. She arched her neck slightly to see a hooded figure approach. She blinked dumbly at him for a moment before her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

As her body was lifted from the ground and carried to the heart of the forest, her mind drifted in and out of consciousness. She was coming dangerously close to the edge of life and was balanced upon a beam. It would not take very much to tumble over into Death.

The delirium began to overtake her as she was laid down and soon she was being worked on. Memories mixed with dreams, and soon she was touched by nightmares.

”Rosalie, come down!” Uncle’s voice floated up the stairs. Rosalie was staring at herself in the mirror. She got a horrible sense of deja vu as she finished plaiting her hair and tying the end of it with a ribbon.

She came down the stairs to see a very proud and handsome man sitting in the parlor with Uncle. Both stood to their feet as she entered. He bowed graciously and she responded with a quick curtsey before looking to Uncle confused.

The man had a strong and tall frame. His dark eyes never leaving her.

“Come, sit,” Uncle gestured to the chair and she slowly walked over.

Hadn’t she done this before?

She sat across from the man and waited patiently for one of them to speak.

“Rosalie, this is Alexander Duprè. We have come to an agreement.” Uncle had his eyes guarded and it set Rosalie with unease. She was patient. “He has offered for you hand and I have accepted.”

Rosalie felt her jaw slacken and her hands tingled painfully. How could he do this? How could he agree without consulting her first?

Anger quickly followed shock and she stood to her feet in a rush. Alexander stood quickly and stepped forward.

“Surely there is none more beautiful than you,” he stepped forward and held his hand out. Rosalie opened her mouth prepared to scream or shout. She glared at his hand, but his face began to twist and contort.

Large fangs replaced his teeth and his nails turned to sharp claws. He reached out and she flinched away. The manic smile on his face morphed to one of rage and he clawed at her.

Rosalie let out a small cry as the needle worked quickly to stitch her up.

She lurched away from him and found herself standing in a small clearing with large trees looming at the edge surrounding her. The sky was black and stormy and a wicked wind howled about whipping her hair into her face.

A guttural growl ripped through the air and she turned to see the same monster poised and ready for attack. She screamed and no one heard her.

She broke into a run but hadn’t made it 5 steps before teeth sunk into her neck and muffled her cry.

The nightmares assaulted her without relent. She fidgeted in her feverish sleep as she lay underneath the blanket. She was unaware of the pair of eyes that watched over her. She would shift as much as her injury would allow.

It had been a few days before the demons abandoned their attack. She stilled and her body was quiet. She began to breathe deeply even though a sweat had broke across her forehead. She began to shift restlessly.

The fever was taking hold. Her lids fluttered open but she stared into the room with blind eyes. She tried to sit and cried out in pain before she reached out. She tried to grasp something, but when she was unable to attain it, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she was finally calm.

Whether it was hours or days, Rosalie didn’t know, but the fever finally broke. When she opened her eyes for a second time she was able to see her surroundings.

The first thing Rosalie felt was confusion. The ceiling was unfamiliar, as was the smell. The smell of the place stung her nose and made her eyes water. It was a mixture of medicine and death. She shifted and that’s when the pain came.

She groaned and hissed as she forced her body to lay still. She had tugged on the stitches and she had become hyper aware of each stitch in her side. Once the pain had receded to a dull throbbing, she finally noticed she wasn’t alone.

“Where am I?” her voice croaked. Her throat was dry and it ached for water.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Sun Feb 21, 2016 5:33 pm

Ciarán watched over the trespasser for four days. The young woman had quickly developed a fever thanks to the Hell hound's saliva. Since Chaos was a being of death, it tended to introduce more bacteria than a normal animal bite and it had effectively begun shutting down the woman's systems. If she had been left unattended for a moment longer, there would have been nothing he could have done to save her. A normal healer could not have aided the woman. They wouldn't have known which herbs to use to stave off the infections that a hell hound produced. Even Ciarán had moments where he thought he might have lost his patient. She truly was lucky that Ciarán had been so inclined to aid her at all.

When at last the woman began to come to, Ciarán smiled softly. It had been quite a while since he had the opportunity to save someone. It made him feel like his old self for a moment. These hands of his could still provide help yet! He dabbed the cloth over the woman's brow and her neck to wipe up her perspiration and offer a cool touch with the wet cloth to help keep the fever low. It had broke yesterday thankfully. Any longer and it may have left some nasty damage to her brain. He wet the cloth again and set it on her forehead just as she opened her eyes to look up at the ceiling. She tried to move and Ciarán rushed to touch her shoulder with his gloved hand to try and settle her.

"shh.. shh... it is okay. It is best you do not move too much, Miss. You took quite a thrashing from Chaos and if you move too much, you may undo the stitching. You need to rest as much as possible," he advised without asking her question. He got up from his seat and picked up a glass of water from the counter and adjusted his hood to make sure his features were well-hidden. He did not want his guest to see his face. He offered her the glass then and gently helped her up so she could actually drink. "You've been in a fevered slumber for four days now. Your fever broke last night." When the woman had her fill of the water, he helped her settle back and adjusted the pillows and blanket around her and set the cup down. "You will have to stay here while you heal. You will have some complications from the bite but if you rest and drink the herbs I give you, you should heal up nicely and be on your way."

Chaos entered the little house then and shook himself off. The hell hound was in his human form but even in this form, his sharp tail waved behind him. His dark ears flicked to the side and he leaned against the door frame to peer in at the woman on the bed. He gave a snort and a nod, satisfied that his master's charge was awake. Tucked under his arm were three rabbits he had hunted down so Ciarán could make soup for the woman. Chaos didn't need to eat and neither did Ciarán considering he was for all intents and purposes, immortal. The hound dropped the rabbits on his master's counter then. "Here. You owe me a belly rub later. I had to travel all the way to the other side of the forest to find these bastards," Chaos answered with a playful growl.

Ciarán grinned. "Good, you needed some exercise, you lazy," Ciarán answered him. Ciarán turned back to the woman then. "Do you need something right now, Miss? I will make you some soup to eat and it will be done in a couple of hours." Chaos walked out of the room then to go and curl up elsewhere. He doubted the woman would want him in the same room considering it was his bite she was healing from.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Sun Feb 21, 2016 10:59 pm

The cool rag against her forehead was soothing. She didn’t resist when a gloved hand gently pushed her down and she was ordered to not move. Her brow drew together in confusion at the mention of Chaos. She didn’t understand the reference. She wasn’t sure what he meant and shook the thoughts away to sort out later.

This place was so dark. She could feel it seep into her bones and she felt a sense of decay wrapping in around her ribs. It was a heavy weight and she began to cough until he brought her water. She drank greedily, the droplets spilling from the corners of her mouth. She finally turned her eyes to him once she was sated and noticed he kept his face shrouded. She could barely make out the outline of the features on his face as his hood was pulled close. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she was becoming more oriented with her situation and surroundings.

What was this place? Who was this man? Even though she felt fear clutched in the pit of her stomach, it was starting to abate as he adjusted the blankets and wanted to get her comfortable.

Stay? She didn’t even know where she was?

There was a tugging sensation in her mind. There was a thought just out of reach. Confusing flitted into her eyes as she tried to sift through and remember what was eluding her.

“Stay? I can’t stay.” Even as she said it she didn’t sound as convinced with herself.

What was she forgetting?

Before she could concentrate further, the door opened and in walked a peculiar creature. She gripped the sheets and subconsciously tried to shift away. She pressed her eyes tightly as it was a quick reminder at the gravity of her injury. The pain burned in her side as she became aware of it once more. It was hot and uncomfortable and she wished desperately that it wasn’t bound in bandages.

A small glint caught her eye and she noticed his tail. Her hands began to shake of their own accord as that tail was eerily similar to the demon that haunting her sleeping steps.

She eyed the...she wasn’t sure what to call it. Whatever creature this was had three rabbits and finally excused himself after a short exchange with her caretaker. She automatically relaxed and her hands stopped shaking.

She coughed again to clear out the sticky feeling in her throat. She did not like this place.

He asked her a question. She eyed his cloaked form until the words finally finished processing. She did need something. She knew she did. She let out a frustrated sigh when it didn’t come to mind.

“No.” She responded in a short tone.

She settled back into the bed carefully and watched as the figure moved about preparing the rabbits for stew. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed an odd thing for this person to be doing.

Questions swam at a dizzying pace through her mind.

Who were these people?
Why were they helping her?
Where was the monster that attacked her?
How did she get here?
Where was this place?
Why did it feel so dead?
Why was it so dark?
Why had she come to the forest in the first place?
Was Uncle all right?
Was Alexander worried about her?

Rosalie let out a cry as the fog in her mind cleared. Uncle! She shifted a little too quickly and felt the stitches pulling painfully in her side. It pulled a pained gasp from her lips and she looked about wildly. She had to push past this pain. Uncle was dying! She gritted her teeth through the pain and small sounds escaped the pearly barrier as she forced herself to sit. She clutched the heavy blankets close to her body as her senses came alive.

“My clothes, where are my clothes?” her eyes darted quickly about the room. “I have to get out of here. I have to find the wizard.” She tried to block the pain as she scooted on the bed. She felt a stitch tug harder than the others and gave another cry of pain until she collapsed back into bed with beads of sweat on her forehead from the exertion. She breathed heavily through her nostrils as she held her jaw shut to prevent from crying. Her eyes stung from the pain. It felt as though a fire had been lit in her side. She felt the warm spreading against her skin and knew some of the stitches had broken.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Mon Feb 22, 2016 1:18 am

When the woman cried out, Ciarán jumped in surprise and his knife slice over his finger. Thankfully, the blade had only cut his glove. He had no idea what his blood would do to whoever consumed it if it did happen to stain the rabbit he was preparing and just the thought of consuming blood was a bit nasty anyway. He set the knife down to turn around and look at his charge to see that she had gotten up and by the judge of things, she had gotten up too fast. He gave an exasperated sight. People who needed the healing touch never listened to their healers about anything. they always had to go and complicate matters because they were too stubborn to heed advice.

Ciarán put down the rabbit then and washed his gloves off before he walked back to his chair. Chaos poked his head in next to make sure everything was okay. He gave a quizzical look between the two of them. Ciarán waved him off. His presence would do nothing for the girl. Even in human skin he gave off a dreading vibe. The hell hounds of old used to drag people back to the gates of hell after all. No soul wanted to encounter the merciless jaws of the gate-keeper. Ciarán watched him leave to give the girl a moment to collect herself and bring her blanket up higher on her chest. When it was time to address her, he brought his attention back to her.

"I burned your clothes. They were nothing more that scraps really. I have some old clothes that should prove useful. They'll be big on you but as long as they cover everything they are fine," he explained. "Now, I have to ask you a question. Why are you trying to find a 'wizard'" he inquired. "It was foolish of you to come so deep into the forest on the errand. Are you trying to prove yourself or something? He can't grant you wishes. And you should really try not to get up so fast. You are already pulling at the stitches. It was best for you when you were unconscious and couldn't feel them. You will not like it if I have to redo them while you are awake," he warned.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Mon Feb 22, 2016 1:33 am

Rosalie's cheeks flushed both out of embarrassment and anger when he said he had burned her clothes. He had no right! She didn't know this man. She didn't know where she was. It was an odd situation to accept his old clothes to wear. Of course as she lay protected underneath the blankets, she was extremely aware of her nakedness and did not wish to try and leave without garments to cover her body. She also tried to not dwell on the thoughts that he had had to remove her clothes in order to treat her and surely had seen her in her most raw form.

The color tinging her cheeks faded as he asked her why she was looking for a wizard. When he said the wizard couldn't grant wishes, hope sprung to her eyes.

"Do you know him? Do you know where I can find him?" desperation colored her tone. She shook her head with a look of appall on her face. "Prove myself? Of course it was foolish! I know the dangers that lurk here." She shot back. "I had no other choice." Her voice faltered and she looked away. What was the point now? She had been gone for four days. It was very likely that Uncle had passed on by now. He was in such terrible shape when she had left him. The thought seized her heart in fear and she ached.

"My only wish was to beg for another's life." Her words were soft and she refused to look over at him. This man was a stranger. Why was she telling him this? She owed him no explanation. Then again, he had saved her life. Perhaps she did owe it to him.

"My parents were murdered when I was a baby. My uncle took me in when no one else would. They say I am a curse, or Death's luck follows me. Why else would I have been spared and my parents were not?" her voice was distant. "Uncle took me in, he raised me as his own. He is the closest I have to a father. He has been sick and none of our healers can help him. I've done everything I can and he is still dying. If I lose him-" she stopped. There will be none left to love me. She didn't voice it. It was too personal.

Alexander did not love her. He loved the idea of her.

"I had to come, but it was a vain attempt." She lamented. "I can't stay here, I shouldn't have come." She shifted, clutching the blanket close to her as she finally turned back to the cloaked man. "My uncle is dying. I should be at his side." Her eyes flashed with compassion and regret. "I need to be there as he departs. This was silly errand." She felt the stitches pull tight in her skin and she stopped her shifting. The pain was throbbing sharply in her side. "My uncle will die alone." If he hadn't already. The realization caused her lip to tremble and a single tear forge a salty path down her pale cheek. "My pain matters not." She said absently with a grimace.

"I should never have come." She repeated in a whisper.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Mon Feb 22, 2016 3:42 am

She had come all this way to save her unlce? She had wanted to beg the 'wizard' to spare her uncle's life? Her words truck him right to the core. That pang of guilt and sorrow and desire was very near and dear to his heart and was the very reason why he was in the mess he was in now. The fresh reminder of his pain and now this woman's pain made tears collect in his eyes. He hadn't thought about the reason why he was here in the forest for ages. And on did his heart ache for this woman! He wished he could help her. He so desperately wanted to spare her the pain she was feeling and be the wizard she sought so that he could bring life back to her uncle, but unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. He had lost his ability to heal a very long time ago. He wouldn't be able to save her uncle. And she was right, she needed to be beside him at least when he died. It was the least and most she could do for him.

"My lady... I am so sorry for what you are going through," he answered in a hushed tone. "I know what you are feeling... I wish I could save your uncle and heal him, but I can't. I do not know if your uncle is alive right now but you are also in no shape to travel through the forest as you are." Should he take her to the village? It was still going to take a while and they were going to be moving a lot. The jostling motions of him or Chaos carrying her could move her too much. Besides, Chaos couldn't step foot into the village and Ciarán himself didn't want to enter the town. That wasn't a place for him to be. He could hurt people. But this woman... she needed to get home.

"Ma'am, my companion and I could carry you or drag you back to the town in a makeshift carrier but it would be a taxing journey for you. You have lost a lot of blood and I worry for your safety. Your uncle would not wish for you to die on his account. And unfortunately, even if you go back to town, you can't stay there. You'd have to come back. The healers of your village will not be able to heal a hell hound bite. I have all the things you require here."

Ciarán regretted that he couldn't help her. He sighed and hugged himself with a heavy heart. What could he do for her and her uncle? His eyes widened when he realized he still had the mirror Death gave him. The mirror would allow her to be somewhere else in spirit for a brief moment. It was how he often checked up on his own family when he was traveling. "Wait, I have something that may assist you!" he answered with new hope. He rushed out of the room and very nearly tripped over Chaos who was laying down by the door. Ciarán clung to the wall as he stumbled before he righted himself and waved at the growling disgruntled companion.

Once in his room, Ciarán rummaged through drawers until he finally found the foggy mirror with its white ceramic encasing. The whole outer edge had carved skulls and inscriptions to help the spirits pass easily into the afterlife. He smiled softly and traced the dusty thing a moment before he quickly wiped it off and headed back to his guest. He sat down beside the bed and showed her the mirror. "This mirror will allow you to be beside your uncle in spirit. He will sense you and feel you there. You may also say a couple of words to him and he will hear you. This is the safest thing for you to do right now. Physically traveling would not be advisable. All you have to do is stare into the mirror and concentrate on the person you want to contact. You'll be able to be there with him for a little while before the image fades. You can use it once a day."

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Mon Feb 22, 2016 9:34 am

So this was the wizard she had heard so many rumors about. He wasn’t what she expected. She had expected someone old, and even a bit crazy. This man sympathized with her and it was not what she had anticipated.

Even before he spoke she knew it was impossible for her to go. The pain rippled through her body every time she readjusted. It was getting more and more difficult to block out. The reality was bringing her a great deal of emotional heartache. She was a fool. Did she honestly believe there was a mystical being with impossible powers who would even listen to her?

She was disgusted with herself. He was right. Her uncle would be grieved to know what had happened to her as well as if she tried to come to him. He would not want her to risk her life further for the sake of returning to his side at the end of his days.

His sudden exclamation caused her to jump as he rushed from the room. She waited patiently until he returned holding a rather peculiar mirror that made her feel uneasy. She had never seen such a mirror before, the skulls and strange words carved into it made her uneasy. As he explained what it did and how it worked she didn’t hesitate to take it from him. This man did have magic after all.

Please let it not be too late. She prayed and held the mirror up close to her face. For a moment she closed her eyes and concentrated on her uncle in his bed. She felt the mirror thrum with magic and when she opened her eyes she had a terrible sense of detachment. Even as she knew she was holding the mirror, she did not feel as though she were inside her body.

Rosalie stared around Uncle’s well furnished room. He was lying in his bed looking white and gaunt. For a brief moment she feared she was too late. When she saw his chest rise in a shuddering breath she moved to his side and collapsed to her knees. He had never looked so old and so frail.

”Uncle? Uncle?” her words were detached and distant, but as she spoke his eyes fluttered and shifted open. He looked around the room and a weak sigh came from his lips as he could not see her.

“I must be close, for spirits are whispering into my ear.” He mumbled and Rosalie felt the tears sting her eyes.

”I am not dead Uncle, I am alive.” She quickly spoke.

“Truly my child?” he had closed his eyes at this point. “When they told me you had entered the forest I knew you were gone from me.” There was pain in his voice and she regretted her decision even more. She had caused him this grief.

”I am protected Uncle, do not fear for me. I am so sorry I left you. I should be by your side.” She went to grab his hand only to find she passed through it.

“Good,” he breathed slowly, “good.” It was silent for a long moment and for a moment she thought he had passed on.

“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.” His words were weak and panic struck her. She was losing him. “You deserve every bit of happiness my dear.”

Rosalie once again reached for him and felt frustration as she was unable to hold him.

“I am happy Uncle, you were always there for me. I can never repay your kindness.” Her throat was full of emotion.

“Your happiness is enough,” he whispered with a smile on his face.

Rosalie felt the sob build in her chest as she stared at his chest. It did not move again.

She felt herself being pulled away and back to her body. The mirror clouded over and the image was gone.

The tears came. She passed the mirror back to the man before she turned her head away from him. She couldn’t bear to have him see her cry, and cry she did. She didn’t hold them back. She let the tears fall freely from her face. All she felt was her grief and regret. She was numb to all else.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 1:02 am

Ciarán sat quietly beside the young woman as she looked into the mirror. He didn't want to disturb her moment with her uncle and he wanted to be close enough to aid her should something happen and she loose her strength. When she pulled out of the mirror, he accepted it from her and held it close to his own chest as he watched her cry. The poor thing. He wished he could have saved her uncle from his fate but alas, he could not. He had learned the hard way the consequences of cheating death and fate. He stood from his seat and reached out to squeeze the woman's shoulder softly before he pulled away and went back to his room to lock away the mirror he had received from Death.

Ciarán didn't say anything more to the girl and let her grieve as she would. Her tears and sorrow were testiment that her uncle had truly passed on. He quietly went about finishing his prep work for the rabbits and vegetables that would go into the soup. It was hours later before it was done and he returned to the woman's side with a fresh pair of gloves on and a bowl of steaming soup. He sat down beside her and offered the bowl to her. He had already applied the herbs to the soup and the bitter taste would be disguised by the spices of the broth.

"Here," he said softly to her. When she had accepted the bowl, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

Chaos peeked into the room sniffing the air wildly then. "It is done?"

"What?" Ciarán asked asked as he looked over at him.

"The soup. It's done?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I want some."

"But you can't taste it nor need it," he answered then. A hell houn was a being of fire. Anything it ate tasted like ash so what was the point of eating if you couldn't taste the flavors of what you were eating and didn't need the nourishment it gave? It was a waste to eat it when this woman could benefit from it more.

"Because it smells good. I want some."

Ciarán rolled his eyes at the antics of his hound before he got up and poured a smaller bowl for Chaos and handed it to him. Chaos sat down in a corner and quickly began to lap up the contents of his bowl like a common dog. He had quite the table manners. Ciarán took his usual seat again and watched the woman. "In a couple of hours I need to check your wound. You did a lot of thrashing and I do see light blood spots that I need to monitor. Once you finish eating you should try and get some rest."

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 1:19 am

Rosalie was grateful that he kept silent and to himself. He didn't pester her with sympathies or idle conversation. She needed to grieve. Her whole world had been turned upside down. She wished she could turn back the clock and prevent herself from stepping into the trees. What had she really hoped to accomplish? Why was she such a fool to believe there was magic in this place that would rescue Uncle from his death bed? Death was a part of life. No one escaped it. It was impossible.

The smell of the stew helped mask the smell of death that permeated through the hut. Under different circumstances she would probably have been hungry for it. As he passed her the bowl she mere stared down into the contents. She saw the bits of meat floating in the seasoned broth. It did smell good but there was no appetite for her.

She stared between the two companions. "What are you?" she had no sense for decorum at the moment. She directed her question to Chaos. He was not human, and he certainly wasn't any creature that she was familiar with. She was also beginning to think that the hooded man was less human as well. She didn't understand them or their dynamic.

She still felt the fear pulse in her veins as she saw the razor sharp tail twitch as he slurped up the soul like a lap dog. It was such an odd scene that she almost didn't hear the hooded man. She looked over to him with red and stinging eyes. "Very well," she knew she needed to eat even though there was no desire to do so. She slowly brought the bowl up to her lips and sipped the broth. The warmth soothed her aching throat and she closed her eyes with a sigh.

How could so much change so quickly? Time was never a fair master.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 1:41 am

Chaos froze mid-lick when he heard Rosalie direct her question towards him. What was he? Well, technically he was in human form so human. He could always say that but he doubted such a comment would help any. Especially with the way she was looking at him all puffy eyed and sorrow faced. He understood that her uncle had passed on but he just didn't view it the same way she did. He had always been surrounded by death and really, his true master was Death. Souls were still people and to him, no one really died. They just went to a new place and lived there for a while. Regardless, he wasn't sure what to tell her. His Ciarán seemed okay with letting her be here so maybe a bit of the truth was okay.

"I am a h-"

"What we are is not important Ciarán" interjected. He didn't want to give the woman more answers. He had already spared her death, let her news his mirror, and now healing her. They were going to have to live together for a while and Ciarán did not want her pestering either of them when she found out the truth. And she probably wouldn't believe the truth anyway. Besides, she might even freak out if Chaos told her he was the hell hound that had taken a bite out of her side and was the whole reason why she needed medical attention the first place. No, this woman didn't need to know who or what they were. Not even names were something he wanted to provide her and he didn't plan on asking her what hers was.

"What matters, Ma'am, is that you are going to be staying here for a couple of more days as you heal. I will continue to monitor your health and provide you with what you need. I unfortunately cannot cook much so you'll find yourself sick of soup by the end of your stay. As you know, life in this forest is scarce so we cannot provide you much in the way of variety. When you have recovered, my companion will take you back to the edge of the forest so you can get to your village safely. I warn you now, you should not venture into the forest again. The next time you are here, you will not be spared. You should not be here at all," he answered, sounding colder than he had up to that point. He needed to remind himself that she was a trespasser and not a guest. She did not belong here and there was a reason why he lived alone in the middle of a dead forest. He couldn't have people coming and going as they pleased. Maybe the bit of sharpness in his tone would deter her from returning.

Chaos himself quieted down and gulped down the rest of his bowl and set it on the counter before he hurried away. He did not much like his master when he was in a melancholy mood and wanted to give him some space as he regained his center.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 1:51 am

Rosalie was taken aback at the harsh edge to his tone. Up until this point he had been kind and generous. Now his words were sharp and she no longer felt welcome. It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but a part of her suddenly felt trapped as though she were a prisoner at the mercy of her captors. She didn’t like the feeling.

Spared. Her life had been spared this one time. It made her uneasy. It made her wonder what hand he played and intervention so that she wasn’t her own mangled corpse cast aside and forgotten in the trees. She finished her soup as Chaos left leaving them alone once more. She set the bowl aside and briefly closed her eyes. So much of her body ached. She felt exhausted even though she hadn’t even been able to stand up. She felt herself fighting sleep.

“Thank you,” the words passed as a whisper between her lips as her lids were too heavy to open. Sleep was approaching her fast and she was quickly losing the battle.

“My name…” she began and her voice faded as she was already slipping into the darkness.

Her eyes fluttered and she sucked in a sharp breath and searched the room until she spotted him. “Rosalie.” She murmured before her breathing evened out and she fell into a slumber. Her body was drained and craved rest so that it would be able to recover.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 2:11 am

Ciarán remained stiff as board as he watched the woman fight off sleep. She was whispering her name and he wished she hadn't told him. He didn't want to get close. He couldn't get close. Anyone that ever got close died. He was tired of seeing everyone around him die. He wanted them to live. If that meant he couldn't be part of anyone's life and had to make everyone hate him, so be it. He couldn't afford to let anyone in. It was for their benefit truly. And now that he would be getting to know this Rosalie, she was in danger. If he ever died, she would take his place in Death's embrace.

He sighed when she was finally asleep and relaxed himself. He tucked her in gently and took her bowl to the sink and washed the dishes. He set them aside before he quickly left the room and ventured outside. The house felt too stifling for him now. He slid down one of the walls and just sat on the ground staring at the world around him. More and more of the forest was dying thanks to his presence. He did his best not to touch anything with his bare skin but somehow he was still draining the vitality that flowed through the roots of the earth. Nothing was safe from his curse.

"Rosalie... you should have never come here.." he mused out loud. She was so young and so full of life and longing. He was afraid he'd snuff out her light to. He heard the door then and glanced over to see his ever faithful companion sit down beside him. Chaos rested his head against Ciarán's shoulder and gave him a little grin and wagged his tail. When Ciarán turned his head to actually look at the hound's face, Chaos used the opportunity to lick at the space between them to give his master his air kisses.

"It is going to be okay, Ciarán. You saved her life. She is alive right now because of you. She is already healing and like you said, in a few days, she'll be as good as new. I'll take her home and that will be the end of it. She'll be safe and living her boring life," he grinned. "You won't kill her."

Ciarán chuckled and ruffled Chaos's head. "Thanks, Chaos. You know, for a hell hound, you are awfully cheery."

Chaos beamed at him. "I am an oddball. Even Death said I was too happy. I think that may be way he gave me to you."

"Maybe," he agreed.

"Probably. I am happy enough for the both of us. But seriously, don't worry about her. I'll keep her safe to. She'll see her home again soon."

Ciarán gave a nod in agreement. There was hope yet for at least one soul touched by Death's godchild.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 9:39 am

The first part of her sleep was dreamless and restful. Her body had shut down as much as it could and only maintained what it needed to keep functioning. She was absent to everything that was going on around her. As her mind began to shift towards dreams, her body occasionally twitched in response. Her eyes began to shift about under her lids and her hands moved ever so slightly as her dreams were warped and twisted.

”Rosalie!” she looked up from the garden she was currently tending. Her fingers were covered in dirt and she had a neat pile of weeds sitting next to her knees.

“Uncle!” she smiled brightly as the graying man walked over to her with a spring in his step. He looked lively.

“Alexander is supposed to be coming by this afternoon and I think it would be best you greeted him without dirt caked onto your hands.” He mused with a smile and Rosalie’s face flushed a little.

“I honestly doubt he would care if I was covered in mud from my head to my toe.” She sighed a little exasperated.

“It is true he cares for you a great deal. He will make a good husband for you.” Uncle’s voice was smooth and soft. He had said this a dozen times before.

Rosalie sighed and tried to brush the dirt from her hands. She looked up to respond but Uncle wasn’t standing there. Dark clouds had gathered and she felt panic settle in.

“Uncle? Uncle!” she rose to her feet and quickly began searching for him. She heard distant yells and took off to find the source.

There was a prostrate figure ahead of her on the dirt road. As she approached she was horrified to see the monster that had attacked her standing over her uncle’s bloody and mangled body. He was reaching a hand towards her with unblinking eyes.

“Why didn’t you save me?” his words reached her ears before the beast lunged at her.

Rosalie screamed and took off running.

Rosalie’s eyes flew open as she had the horrible sense of falling. She realized she had fallen from the bed and the blankets were tangled tightly around her body. She whimpered in pain as she had landed on her injured side. She wasn’t sure how long she had been trapped in that nightmare. Had it been hours?

Anxiety rippled through her muscles. When would that creature cease to haunt her dreams? She almost felt it lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce on her.

She gripped the edge of the bed but found she was in too much pain to move. Now that the initial fright had worn off she felt the same exhaustion sweep over her as she tried to block out the bite of pain in her side. She gave up on trying to get into the bed on her own. She wasn’t even sure where her caretaker or his name to call for his aid. She sighed and pulled the blankets closer around her body. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing and soon the pain started to fade.

FaddedFox · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FaddedFox** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 2:35 pm

[His young woman charge had been sleeping fitfully through the night so Ciarán had figured it was safe for him to leave her side for a little while and take care of his own needs such as bathing. He had constantly been sitting at her side in case she needed something quickly so he hadn't wanted to leave her unattended. Chaos was great company but he knew nothing about healing anything. He couldn't trust the hound to aid her medically, but now things should have settled down. Chaos was out scouting the forest just in case someone was out there looking for Rosalie. It would not do to have a bunch of people bargaining in here. If they killed Ciarán, he would simply come back to life and Rosalie could very possibly be taken from the world in exchange. He did not want another line on his chest to remind him of his failures.

The young, or maybe old, healer sighed to himself as he reached up long delicate fingers and caressed the deep red grooves on his chest that were physical reminders of those who had died because of him; their life lines cut long before their time. He had five of them currently. He brought his fingers up to touch the black slits on his neck then; six columns as black as the inky abyss of his grandfather's eyes. They were the marks of death's touch and it made it look like he had various lacerations on his neck with barely a line of skin keeping his neck attached to his body though really they were just markings and not actual holes. Those weren't the only representations of his curse however. Though his body looked forever youthful, Ciarán lived through many ages and died five times. His grandfather wanted him to be alone to repent for his sins so his face was far from the handsome features he once sported. His skin was just as soft as it had been, the angles of his features beautiful, his lips soft and eyes a clear sapphire blue. His face was marred by the visage of a skull however. His skull to be exact. His entire face had the black contours outlining the features of the bone beneath the skin. Around his eyes there was nothing but black making it look hollow and his eyes far to bright and alien. As if that wasn't enough, their was a tattoo of a tree on his back. It was vibrant at the top but sickly as it traveled down to its roots on his lower back. Vines extended outward to cover his arms, chest, and legs. The vines snaked beneath his skin in a sickening display as they wrapped around him. Ciarán hated all of it.

Ciarán shook his head and took in a breath before he dunked his head in the water to get the soap out of his blond locks and finish cleaning himself off. He got out of his basin and started to squidgy the water off of his body when he heard a distinct 'thump' and a woman's voice cry out. Ciarán's eyes widened and he quickly grabbed his cloak to make himself somewhat presentable as he rushed into the room where his guest was staying. He saw the woman on the floor and gasped as he rushed to her side. "Rosaline! You can't get up yet! You are still healing!" he said and touched her blanket covered arm and glanced down. No gloves. He forgot his gloves! Thank the powers that be that he hadn't touched her skin. He pulled his hand away quickly and shuffled backwards away from her in fear that she would move and he'd accidentally brush her skin.

Then the woman looked over at him she just... stared. Why was she staring at him? He frowned and reached a hand up to touch his own face. Then he realized; he wasn't wearing his hood either. The markings of his face and neck were as plain as day for her to see. In his rush to see if she was okay, he had forgotten to make sure all of his features were hidden. "No!" he gasped and quickly raised his hands up to try and cover his face as he turned away from her. He pulled the hood up to cover himself then. He didn't want anyone to see him! Now she was going to freak out like everyone else who had seen him. He had killed two people he had tried to save because of their fear of him. He didn't want that to happen again. "I.. I am sorry," he said softly, his back to her.

Sirius Baren · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Sirius Baren** on Tue Feb 23, 2016 5:42 pm

Rosalie looked up as the man entered the room and rushed to her side. “I fell,” she explained with a frown. She still felt a bit foggy from her sleep. He pulled his hand back as if he had been branded with an iron. She didn’t understand why he had revolted and quickly drew her eyes to his face. Her eyes were drawn wide and she couldn’t help but stare as his hood was not guarding his face from her.

It wasn’t at all what she had anticipated. She hadn’t understood before why he had kept himself shrouded. Now that she could see him in plain light she felt sympathy for him. The simple reveal of his face explained a great deal to her. Even though his face was traced in frightful lines, she held no fear. She only felt compassion for him. How long had he secluded himself out of fear and rejection.

Beneath the kohl lines that seemed to etch his face structure across his skin, Rosalie could see beneath the markings. There were handsome features hidden and she could almost imagine how he looked if the marks were removed.

“Wait!” she called to him as he attempted to cover his face with his hands. She was a bit startled to see black vine tattoos wrapped around his skin. It made her wonder how much of him was covered. He turned from her and pulled the hood far over his head and stammered an apology. Rosalie felt pain for him. What sort of life had he lived that had driven him to take residence at the heart of the forest? How much suffering had he endured?

It all made a bit more sense--the rumors that is. If anyone had seen him it would be no particular leap to awesome he was a demon, or perhaps the devil himself. His appearance was frightening, but she could not find it in her heart to fear him.

This man had saved her life. He had opened up his home to her, a stranger, and had set to work healing her so she could return home. She couldn’t believe a man who provided such kindness could have an evil heart. It did not matter to her what he looked like. She owed him her life.

“Please don’t turn away from me.” She pleaded softly.

Where most would scream or try to run, Rosalie was only curious. He was such a mystery to her. She wanted to know more about him. She wanted to find some way to repay her debt to him.

“You do not need to hide from me, I do not fear you.” She spoke gently in an attempt to dispel the doubts she was sure he was feeling.

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