Where to start?
Well, for one Earth isn’t what it used to be. Thirty-odd years ago there was this shitty plague that wiped out most of the human populous. It also gave us zombies, so that’s really fun. We also got Deamons, Shapeshifters, and other monsterous beings. Even I, myself am not of the normal caliber.
I am human, or I think I am. A few years back, when I was a teenager, I stumbled on this creepy but cool old ass mini castle out in the woods. And because a Windingo was chasing me, (I wasn’t even on native grounds!) I quickly hid in the Insanely big cottage. I think I sat with my body pressed tightly to the door for about an hour before she spoke.
“The windingo is gone child. Get off the floor, for Goddess sake.”
At first I thought I was hearing things honestly. Her creaky old voice spooked me enough that I took in my surroundings. It looked like the kitchen part of this mini castle. It was a little dusty here and there, but it was beautiful. Modern in the old ways. Before the apocalypse way.
“Didn’t you hear me? Get off my damn floor before Aristotle catches wind of ye.” She said again.
I quickly jumped up and spotted the old crone. She was stirring a pot of god knows what. “Sit down. At the table child.” She ordered when I looked back at the floor I just abandoned. “Right, sorry.” I squeaked quietly as I sat in one of the carved chairs by the window. I searched outside to see if there was any activity. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t live this far from protection unless there was a very fucking strong protection spell around the perimeter.” The crone told me as she poured two cups of the bubbly she was previously stirring.
She brought the cups to the table besides me and sat at the chair across from me. She pushed a cups in front of me. I picked it up and looked into it. It was a grayish purple. A bubble popped as I inhaled. My eyes burned from the strong smelling alcohol. “Well? Drunk up, dearie. It’ll help. Homemade is the best.” She muttered the last part as downed her cup. At her promting I took a timid sip.
I’m telling you— sparks. I quickly gulped the rest down, loving the burn on my throat and the sting in my eyes. The crone, who was honestly probably in her forties at best, grinned wickedly at me. “Good shit, aye?” She winked and I cleared my throat.
“Where are you from.. your accent..?” I trailed off lamely. She chuckled, “Scotland. The booze was better there, I’ll tell ya.” She hovered for a moment before relaxing in her chair. “Names’ Elaina Reeves. You?” The crone, sorry, Elaina asked. “I’m Azelle Chrome, nice to meet you Madame Reeves.” I tell her. “Your French aren’t you?” she asks. “Of French descent. I was born here but my parents were born in France, yes.” I admit. I supposed my accent was a bit thick since English wasn’t my first language. At least my pronunciation was right! “Regardless,” She waves her hand as if she was waving off the a fly. “You’ll be staying here for a while, I suppose.” I shrugged. “If it’s not too much trouble.” I questioned. I had nowhere else to go at that time honestly. My parents were dead, I had no relatives and nowhere safe to take refuge. There were far worse things on this earth than a man eating Indian corpse. (or what it’s officially called, a wendingo.)
She nodded before turning and walking farther into the house. I waited a moment before following her. As I excited the kitchen I saw her turn right at the what seemed like a library and enter what looked like a closet. The closet surprisingly held creepy but sturdy stairs three flights in length leading upwards to what I assumed was an attic. I was right. It was very spacious and has the coolest tinted glass windows. There was even a bathroom! Elaina looked on as I took in my surroundings. It was amazing that she found such a find in this day and age. She cleared her throat before going, “You can stay here as long as you like,”
I’m pretty sure I squealed as I hugged her and chanted “thank you, thank you, thank you,” over and over again.
“There will be chores of course. And you’ll be learning..” she trailed off, muttering that last part.
I beamed up at her. “Nevertheless, thank you for this. It means the world.” She lightly tapped my left cheek twice before walk back down the stairs. “Take and shower and get some rest! I’ll see you in the morning.” She yelled as she went somewhere else in the mini castle.
I slammed five coppers down on the stalls table. “That’s my final offer,” I grounded out . The saleswoman lifter her nose to the wind as if she was a nobleman. “Five coppers for perfectly good produce? I think not. At least two silvers.” I glared at her as I produced one silver. “Five coppers and one silver.” I almost seethed. She raised her eyebrow as she looked at the silver and coppers out of the corner of her eye. I wouldn’t budge. “It’s not like it’s great produce. As you said, it’s
Perfectly Good Produce.”
She still looked hesitant but with a scowl, she swiped the coins off the counter and smiled tightly. “pleasure doing business with ya!” She yelled vivaciously at my retreating figure.
I started the walk back to the mini castle with multiple bags of produce and other foods in hand. The thirty minute walk from the forest to the ghost town crawling with demons and the like was as lengthy as the Lady Rapunzels hair. There were still humans in the town of Gravendale. But there were less and less as they year went by. Most of the townsfolk were old and getting on in life.
It was a ghost town, Literally. It was crawling with the ghouls and ghosts who couldn’t or wouldn’t move on.
As I started my treck over the hill that was in someways a barrier between the town and the forest the graves came into view. The zombies moving about as slowly as normal. I sent a small prayer up to goddess’, thanking them for the time I’ve spent on this earth and how lucky I’d been to find someone like Eliana Reeves.
The graves were overwhelming to someone who wasn’t aware of how low the human population has become. Three million. That’s what’s left after the purge we called a plague. That number may seem like a lot but we lost six billion people. The worlds now crawling with things that should only appear in horror films and stories. To the idiot who accidentally became the first zombie; FUCK YOU!
After walking for another ten minutes I finally spotted the forest of Grimm. We names the forest that after the reading the Grimm Fairytales. AnThe sun was finally about to set and that meant that soon I wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing with my human eyes.
Snapping my fingers, the some of the trees lite up with a spark. One tree in every three began to glow with an iridescent shimer. They were a bright neon blue. It was quite beautiful.
I still remember the summer of my fourteenth year when that old crone made me lather the lot of the trees in this ginormous forest in that sticky goop. It hardened after so many hours and I would spend hours taking a screwdriver (because it’s blunt enough not to cut me,) and scraping off all the hardened glowy goop.
It helped me learn the terrain so I guess that’s a plus. It’s been many years since I came to live with Eliana. That first year was spent learning how to read and write, learning about the world and what happened to it, learning the terrain of the forest and the surrounding land, and of course, reading Eliana’s grimoires front to back.
Good ole black magic, am I right? Certainly helped me in many situations. Like the forest fire of twenty-one thirty five. Or the accidental first floor flooding of twenty-one thirty two. The ground floor smelled horrible for months after that. I’ve been studying the Arts of the goddess’ since I got here. It’s been about eight or nine years now. It’s been a long time.
As I neared the forest of Grimm I felt eyes on me. A shiver ran down my spine as I levitated all my groceries and began moving a little faster towards the protection circle surrounding the woods. All I had to do was make it back to the skeleton sticks. They were the markers that made up the protection circles border.
I broke into a sort of speed walk - jog combo after I heard a twig snap. It was probably a squirrel or a rabbit, a voice In my head said. Or a bear. I didn’t want to think about the alternative. Bears weren’t what they used to be. They were starved human eating creatures with fried brains. Sending a prayer to the goddess nix I sprinted as fast as I could the rest of the way to the markers. I heard a distinct roar behind me as the earth shook. The bear charged at me with sudden vigor.
My hear practically beat out of my chest as I gasped for air, my lungs burning with adrenaline and fear. My muscles burned and with a cry of pain I pushed myself beyond my limits as I briskly trekked the beaten path leading to the mini castle I now called home.
Fighting for air in my lungs, I collapsed onto the wooden floor boards of the parlor. My thighs burned. My feet would barely move they hurt so much. My stomach was tossing and turning, seemingly trying to convince me to throw up my lunch. My head was
pounding from the lack of oxygen entering my body. I was a sad slob of sweat wheezing for air.
That’s how Annaleese found me.
Annaleese was born in Tennessee a few years prior to now. She had miraculously found a truck with gas and had driven down the Texas. She’d just run out of gas when she was surrounded by a group of zombies. She somehow managed to get away from the hoard only to be chased by the grave zombies down the way, past the hill. She luckily ran into the forest and was saved by the protection barrier but was severely injured. It took multiple days to make sure she’d come out alive. She had multiple lacerations and broken bones. Ribs. Arms. Ankle. She was just a sweet little child who loved to bake.
“What are you doing?” She asked. I raised my limp hand towards her and made a “gimme gimme” motion with my fingers. “Dying a slow death from asphyxiation, that’s what. Can you- can you help me up please? I fear nothing is where it should be after that.” Annaleese rolled her eyes before grabbing my by the arm and hauling me up and into the nearest chair.
“What happened?” She asked me.
“A bear.” I breathed out. “A necromancers bear.” I nodded to the book shelf marked ‘FORBIDDEN’ and pointed out a book: ‘Necromancy; A fools gambit. “A bear conjured by a necromancer is basically a dead bears bones and skin. It’s like a possession of sorts, I suppose.” I paused as she handed me the book. “The bear is basically inhabited by a demon who’s main reason for living is eating human flesh. It’s a grotesque monster with big teeth and glowing red eyes.” I informed her, showing her a picture of it.
“Woah,” she breathed.
“Yeah,” I said under my breath.
When I finally finished getting the forest floor off my body I exited the shower and was greeted by the resident ghost of the Mini Castle.
“Narlie,” I greeted the curly Brunette as I walked back into my bedroom. “Azelle,” she greeted back.
Narlie was quite the looker. She had a button nose covered in freckles and what looked to be an afterdeath blush. Her eyes were wide and her pupils small.
Her eye lashes were voluminous and her eyebrows almost as dark as her hair. Her hair was in curles that seemed to bunch up at her shoulders. Her ears were pointy and her teeth sharp. Her cheekbones were poppin (as people in the early nineteen nineties used to say), her jawline was sharp but her cheeks were slightly puffy. Her chin was round and small.
Her figure was also that of wishes. Her waist was thin and her hips were wide. Her chest was plentiful and her backside luminous. She was in a cute white dress with a leather vest of sorts. She looked like the serving girls from the tavern in the fourteen hundreds or maybe a pirates wife. Regardless she was adorable and rude.
“What are you doing in my room?” I asked her.
Surfing through my closet, she “magically” (really like ghost telekinesis) threw a few pairs of clothing on my bed. I slowly made my way to them. A pair of leather pants, a black bra and a black mesh halter top with gray socks and black laced wedges. “Who am I dressing up for?” I raised an eyebrow at her as I changed into what she picked out after getting a pair of panties from one of the drawers in my dresser.
“We’ll be having visitors soon.” She informed me.
“Visitors?” I asked pulling my hair out of the mesh top. “Men. Three who will forever impact our lives here at casa black magic.” She informed me, seeming proud.
“That’s ‘mini castillo en el bosque grimm’ to you, Spaniard” I snapped back playfully. “Ha-ha,” She said with a suddenly thick accent. “Make fun of my heritage.” She laughed. “Haven’t you been death for hundreds of years?” I asked her. “Feels like thousands,” she said mournfully, she accent thick. “What men are coming?” I asked her.
“Three men.” She paused for dramatic effect. “One, wounded and brave, willing to do anything for you, noble, with a dark past. Another, funny and witty, always knowing how to cheer you up and have fun, mischievous and deadly. The last a forgotten man only known by a whisper. A man so powerful and sweet. A man who’s only treat is music. A man who views living a terrible curse. They will love you like no others.” She said. Her eyes glowing as she foretold by prophecy.
A few minutes went by as I process that.
“Y’know.. I always thought that gift would leave me when I died.” I snorted. “Can’t have everything we wish for. Only the lucky ones can,” I Informed her. She makes a sound of fake interest as she pretends to comb through the books on my bookshelf.
A howl tore through the forest just as I opened my mouth to ask her a question.
“..What was that?” She asked me, fear lacing her words. My voice trembled when I replyed. “I don’t know.”
