[ P ] Scariest Places On Earth

What is it that made a place scary? A chill in the air? Sinister shadows? Or was it something more? Something unseen? In this world there was real evil. Lurking in the darkest shadows and in the most ordinary places. Between the world that was seen and the things all mortals feared, there were doors. When opened, nightmares become reality. The sort of nightmares that made you question everything. For if your eyes see it, if your body could feel the heat of their breath, did they not exist? A place where the lines between fact and fiction were blurred to present you with a very real, yet unsettling proposition. Within these places, these things that lurked therein purely the stuff of ghoulish lore, or did they live among them? For Aleera, these encounters in seemingly mundane places had grown over the years. They could manifest during the day, but when night came it was a different story. Just as sure as the owl came out to hunt, the shadows came to life. Creeping and crawling. Looking for all they lost, or for all they could gain. To take from the living that which had been denied or stolen from them in life. So much of the joy that more normal wolves might have was long ripped from the Black Dragon. A mere husk of the woman she once was, these creatures had little in the way of reason to notice her. As she walked through the darkened forest, the moon high above - the vague forms of wandering souls passed right by her. As fleeting as the far off lighting that turned night into day. The ground trembled under her paw as thunder sounded off in the far distance, the threat of rain imminent while the deepening of pitch when clouds overtook the moon. Her pace continued abated, from sea to forest - ever onward even as the forest had turned a shade of crimson. Redwoods. That is what places she’d been through in the past had called such areas. Trees stained red were peculiar, when most often they were green. In her experience there was always some sort of legend or myth perpetuated by the locals that explained such an occurrence. These stories had long left her memory. They were of no importance. That being the case however, did not mean Aleera would not discover something similar as to why this forest shared such a trait. It happened when she passed a grouping of trees and a small clearing opened up on her left side. If it had been opposite her blinded eye may not have even seen the dull, scarlet glow that stood out starkly against the dark. Her great skull swung wide, bringing her mammoth form to pause mid stride. All around this eye-catching red glow was the swirling tendrils of black smoke. Further away, the barely noticeable outlines of the passing souls could be seen darting between the trees. They moved in a circular fashion, where at the center of the glow stood a red figure as brilliant as the petals of a poppy flower. Wolven in shape but fine details could not be made out of the figure who stood at the epicenter of this spectral vortex - its head thrown back and maw pointed to the sky. The vague sensation of curiosity touched her mind. It felt like an age since that had happened. Few things seemed to rile anything other than anger or disinterest out of her these days. Still, while silent, watching this glowing red form, she turned slightly to step forward and snapped a dry twig beneath her paw in the process. With a quickness not unlike the lightning strikes abroad the strange spirit glanced at her for but a moment before running into the woods without a sound. It was uncommon for Aleera to get the sensation that she was meant to follow, but that is exactly what overcame her. Pulling her through the woods the burned woman was able to follow the faint red glow through the trees until eventually she was brought to an overhang where water had begun to trail over the edge since the rain had picked up. It was difficult to make out why she was brought here, but with a flash of lightning she realized that inside the shallow overhang was a dry place to sit and wait out the storm. ”Very well.” Aleera announced, feeling that she’d been brought here by the spirit as a means to help her. Seeing little reason to continue wandering in dangerous conditions she stepped inside where the stone was cold and slightly damp. Choosing to lay as far back into the overhang as she could, her great head rested upon her paws - but it was doubtful sleep would come. Instead, citrine eyes remained turned out toward the mouth of the shallow cave to watch the spirits wander in the dark. To see the way the water ran over and made a sort of curtain to hide her away until the morning hours when the dead could go back to sleep.

The forest was alight with color. Towering oaks were dressed in shades of scarlet and amber, the sight inspiring visions of flames and ember. Even beneath a dreary sky, the foliage of these woods looked as if they had been set ablaze. A dark figure meandered down a worn path alone, enormous paws stirring up the dirt as he trudged along. The warrior was grateful for the end of summer and the blistering heat, but his days and nights were dull, wasted time. Nowadays, it seemed as if everyone else in the king’s army had simply given up. Most of the higher ranking officers seemed too busy with their own affairs to pay much attention. It was a wonder they hadn’t already been invaded by their foes… Then again, the false “king” Jacob was an incompetent imbecile, so maybe they were safe from invasion. As such, Alastor had more free time than previously. Too much free time.


Oh, how he longed for the days of warfare! The cries for mercy that went unheeded, the fragrance of blood thick in the air like perfume, flayed flesh and broken bones, the shadows of vultures circling overhead in anticipation of a feast, freshly dug graves — or corpses simply left to decay on the battlefield. Alastor had seen the face of death, had witnessed bodies of comrades and enemies alike strewn about the bloody fields like leaves in the fall. They were all the same: too weak to survive, whether they obeyed one king or the other. The lost were all exactly where they belonged: rotting in the earth. But where did this leave Alastor? No victories to claim, no blood to paint the landscape in crimson, no need for training, no foes to fight. His reason for being had been robbed of him.


And his sister – his sweet, innocent little sister – had been missing a year now. Alastor had come to the conclusion that she had, in fact, left willingly, and that she wouldn’t return on her own accord. A traitor. Like so many others. If he couldn’t even trust his own family… How could he trust anyone else? The brute’s frustration festered within him, leaving him restless. Charcoal-hued features were set in a scowl as the soldier’s path averted from the trail toward a creek that snaked through the forest.


A lifeless fawn, its spindly legs stilled, hung from his maw, with its dark round eyes still wide with horror and agony. Dark nostrils inhaled the tempting scent of blood and the promise of a tender meal … until something — or, more precisely, someone — caught his attention. He could smell it before he saw anyone, a stench that overpowered the blood of his prey and the scent of impending rain — charred and smoky, with the hint of femininity lurking beneath. Just then, the sky let loose in a torrent, and the trees did little to protect. His ashen pelt was soon drenched, and he muttered his disapproval with his dinner still clenched in his powerful jaws. He knew the forest well enough, had wandered it since his youth, so he knew that shelter was near. The behemoth’s trajectory altered to find the place as the rain pelted him from above.


Peering into the overhang, Alastor was surprised to find it was already occupied. In the darkness of the space, a wolf was tucked away. Crimson sights narrowed, the stench of smoke nearly overpowering. It would take several seconds for the condition of this female stranger to emerge, for the warrior to see what she really looked like, and the brute’s snout upturned with disgust. He had seen seared flesh like this before, on a funeral pyre as the war dead were set ablaze to dispose of them. But never on a living being. He dropped the dead fawn, which fell lifeless at his enormous paws. The exit to the overhang was essentially cut off by the male’s hulking form, still dripping wet. ”Oh, dear!” A sinister sneer painted his shadowy visage as he looked down at the hideous creature: half obsidian, half rose quartz, and entirely grotesque. ”And what are you supposed to be?”


@Aleera

Art: Raven | Code: Cipher

The shadow figures marched through the wood unending. Like many places before this, these souls had probably been here for as long as the wood had grown. They would never leave. Forever stuck in a cycle of walking the same paths in the same manner as they had in life. Before the fire, she could not recall seeing them so clearly. Ember eyes focused outward but at a certain point her sight turned inward. To the visions of yesterday. When the world made more sense and seemed far less sinister than those she faced ahead. Watching these spirits move about while the storm continued outside brought only one memory to mind. She did not see it herself, but Koh swore on all he held dear that he had seen something wild out with the hunting party. He described it only as a large shadow that stood upright on its hind paws and moved with a swiftness between the trees the likes of which were impossible for any animal he knew of. To this day, Aleera knew not if her husband was merely pulling her leg - but at the time she did notice he seemed more addled than usual. These shades did not appear like the one he described. Perhaps his was a demon akin to the thing she sought to destroy. Maybe what he saw and what she hunted now were one in the same. There was no way to know for certain and a new smell kicked up by the storm winds brought the burned woman from her reverie back to the present. Black ears perked forward as an unusual earthy tree smell hit her nose. Cedar. That tree type did not grow here. The indication meant she was not as alone out in these woods as she first thought. If luck were on her side the passing stranger would not pick up her own scent - for it was nearly impossible to miss unless she was downwind from them. There was no reason for her to get up and go looking at that moment and chose to remain in the small cavern regardless. Fate did not look kindly upon Aleera, because the smell of that wood became stronger before the silhouette appeared just outside. Half blind eyes blinked slowly as her great skull lifted itself from the resting place upon her paws to regard this stranger more carefully. A flash of lightning in the distance lit the stranger up enough so that she could make him out more clearly - and what he was carrying. Betwixt his jaws was clamped the neck of a freshly killed deer. His coat was a mix of onyx and ivory with ruby eyes to starkly contrast it. Both parties seemed to stare at one another for a long moment before the male dropped his meal in order to speak. ”Oh dear!” An ear flickered in mild irritation already. A moment later he asked her what she was supposed to be. What a stupid question. One meant to irritate her further, no doubt. It seemed this land so far was full of over confident loud mouths. Then again, he’d spoken all of six words to her so far, maybe she was being presumptuous. He made no effort to enter the cavern as of yet so Aleera remained in her spot, giving no indication that she felt the need to even move from her chosen lair. ”Whatever I need be.” Her voice rolled out from the cave like the tremble of far off thunder when she finally deigned to give him an answer. ”Come inside, or go away.” It was a simple choice - yet his alone to make.