The Archives Of Soulbridge, Inessa and Declair, Elain (continuation)
October 26th, 9:00 P.M.
It’s pitch black.
Elaine has lost Inessa. She can only hope her girlfriend is back at the house.
A bear had chased after them and the two had run, but it was hard to find their way in the unfamiliar area.
Rushing through the woods, the familiar shape of an arch catches her eye—and as she tries to ignore it, she has a feeling of impending doom. Something is drawing her towards it—and so, she runs through. The wind is back, now, lapping at her face and her hands, her gloves lost in the chaos.
Something growls behind her. She continues forward.
October 26th, 9:10 P.M.
Inessa does not come home.
October 29th, 8:00 P.M.
It’s been three days since Elaine came back from the two’s walk alone. Guilt continues to gnaw at her like rust dulling the edge of her sanity, the past three days having felt more like one long nightmare than a period of her life. A feeling of immense guilt has settled in her stomach. Why had she insisted on finishing her book? Why hadn’t she led Inessa on a shorter walk, since she’d known how dark it had been getting? Why hadn’t she trusted her gut to ignore the arch, the one oddity that the events of that night seemed to tie back to?
She was pacing their bedroom now, nibbling on her finger. It had been fairly quiet that night, the only sound had been the incessant What-ifs—when a knock at the door interrupts her muttering and she is forced to tear herself away from her thoughts. She keeps her eyes trained on the floor, having long grown sick of the sight of police officers over the course of the last few days—that is, until two dirty, bare feet stare back.
Surprise and disbelief flicker across her features as she rakes her eyes up her lover's form, tears welling in her eyes. Violent shudders wrack her frame, relief and worry and days of anxiety crashing over her body.
“Inessa!” she cries. “You’re all right, oh my God, you scared me, I– no, come in, you must be freezing…”
As if summoned by the sound, wind howls and slams the door as Inessa steps inside.
The girl looked- Well, looked was a good word for it. For that was all Elaine could do. Her thin jacket, torn and dirty, scarcely drapes her thin, frail body. She no longer had her scarf, gloves, shoes, or anything else, really, that would have kept her warm or clean. She’s also sopping wet. Shivering, eyes boring forward; behind them lay nothing but an empty, cold stare.
Elaine stares at her lover with a great deal of concern. Inessa doesn’t appear to register her—or anything. The floor creaks as she shifts uncomfortably.
“Why don't I get you some tea, hm?” She leads her to the kitchen, draping a blanket around her shoulders. “And I’ll get you some food, too. You must be starv-”
A chair crashes over her head and she collapses to the tile floor with a cry of pain, blood seeping down her face.
Inessa stands above her, huffing and panting, her eyes bloodshot, her slight frame hunched over and arms bent in an inhumane manner. The fact that she was holding the chair at all, let alone swinging it around, was nothing short of a miracle.
Elaine groans in pain and gazes up at Inessa—she only stares at her with those dead, empty eyes. She bares her teeth and dives down at her.
November 1st, 8:00 A.M.
CASE: DECLAIRE, ELAINE AND SOULBRIDGE, INESSA
OFFICER: DUNKINS, AARON
NOTE: TO BE SENT TO ARCHIVES
Victim DECLAIRE, ELAINE shows signs of blunt force trauma. A chair was found splintered on scene. There are no signs of struggle or forced entry into the home. Victim's left ear is missing along with the majority of her fingers. Chunks of flesh, muscle and bone are gone in several areas such as the face, neck, stomach and legs of the victim, and her body is covered in vicious scratches. Assaulter SOULBRIDGE, INESSA was found cannibalizing the victim around ten minutes after the victim's death.
Officers RAMIREZ, LISA and NGUYEN, DAVID found the victim and suspect on scene after going to give the victim updates on her lover's case. We have no leads as to what led the assaulter to commit this crime, however she does not seem like herself and will likely be permitted to plead insanity on the stand. We continue to investigate the scene and the forest beyond.
It’s pitch black.
Elaine has lost Inessa. She can only hope her girlfriend is back at the house.
A bear had chased after them and the two had run, but it was hard to find their way in the unfamiliar area.
Rushing through the woods, the familiar shape of an arch catches her eye—and as she tries to ignore it, she has a feeling of impending doom. Something is drawing her towards it—and so, she runs through. The wind is back, now, lapping at her face and her hands, her gloves lost in the chaos.
Something growls behind her. She continues forward.
October 26th, 9:10 P.M.
Inessa does not come home.
October 29th, 8:00 P.M.
It’s been three days since Elaine came back from the two’s walk alone. Guilt continues to gnaw at her like rust dulling the edge of her sanity, the past three days having felt more like one long nightmare than a period of her life. A feeling of immense guilt has settled in her stomach. Why had she insisted on finishing her book? Why hadn’t she led Inessa on a shorter walk, since she’d known how dark it had been getting? Why hadn’t she trusted her gut to ignore the arch, the one oddity that the events of that night seemed to tie back to?
She was pacing their bedroom now, nibbling on her finger. It had been fairly quiet that night, the only sound had been the incessant What-ifs—when a knock at the door interrupts her muttering and she is forced to tear herself away from her thoughts. She keeps her eyes trained on the floor, having long grown sick of the sight of police officers over the course of the last few days—that is, until two dirty, bare feet stare back.
Surprise and disbelief flicker across her features as she rakes her eyes up her lover's form, tears welling in her eyes. Violent shudders wrack her frame, relief and worry and days of anxiety crashing over her body.
“Inessa!” she cries. “You’re all right, oh my God, you scared me, I– no, come in, you must be freezing…”
As if summoned by the sound, wind howls and slams the door as Inessa steps inside.
The girl looked- Well, looked was a good word for it. For that was all Elaine could do. Her thin jacket, torn and dirty, scarcely drapes her thin, frail body. She no longer had her scarf, gloves, shoes, or anything else, really, that would have kept her warm or clean. She’s also sopping wet. Shivering, eyes boring forward; behind them lay nothing but an empty, cold stare.
Elaine stares at her lover with a great deal of concern. Inessa doesn’t appear to register her—or anything. The floor creaks as she shifts uncomfortably.
“Why don't I get you some tea, hm?” She leads her to the kitchen, draping a blanket around her shoulders. “And I’ll get you some food, too. You must be starv-”
A chair crashes over her head and she collapses to the tile floor with a cry of pain, blood seeping down her face.
Inessa stands above her, huffing and panting, her eyes bloodshot, her slight frame hunched over and arms bent in an inhumane manner. The fact that she was holding the chair at all, let alone swinging it around, was nothing short of a miracle.
Elaine groans in pain and gazes up at Inessa—she only stares at her with those dead, empty eyes. She bares her teeth and dives down at her.
November 1st, 8:00 A.M.
CASE: DECLAIRE, ELAINE AND SOULBRIDGE, INESSA
OFFICER: DUNKINS, AARON
NOTE: TO BE SENT TO ARCHIVES
Victim DECLAIRE, ELAINE shows signs of blunt force trauma. A chair was found splintered on scene. There are no signs of struggle or forced entry into the home. Victim's left ear is missing along with the majority of her fingers. Chunks of flesh, muscle and bone are gone in several areas such as the face, neck, stomach and legs of the victim, and her body is covered in vicious scratches. Assaulter SOULBRIDGE, INESSA was found cannibalizing the victim around ten minutes after the victim's death.
Officers RAMIREZ, LISA and NGUYEN, DAVID found the victim and suspect on scene after going to give the victim updates on her lover's case. We have no leads as to what led the assaulter to commit this crime, however she does not seem like herself and will likely be permitted to plead insanity on the stand. We continue to investigate the scene and the forest beyond.
By The Skin Of My Teath (continuation)
I hurry towards the door and reach forward to grab the handle before jumping back as the door slams open by itself with a loud BANG. It's the first noise I've heard throughout all of this.
Behind the threshold of the door is just darkness. Complete and utter darkness.
Half my thoughts are screaming at me to leave and go into a different building but the voices in my head that don’t feel like my own demand I go in. Every instinct in my body is screaming that I run, panic flowing through my veins and yet I can’t move. I can't run.
I look down as I feel myself suddenly moving, not backwards, but forwards, towards the darkness. Ice fills my veins and I try and try to run back, to get away, to stop moving. Yet nothing works.
I reach the threshold of the door, and pause for some reason, like my body is reacting to my attempts to resist before it's quickly overpowered. As soon as my foot touches the wooden floor on the other side my hearing returns and I'm suddenly bombarded with the sound of what feels like thousands of crows cawing loudly, like a plea for help.
I can’t stop myself from taking another few steps forwards, into the darkness. Dust fills my lungs before I’m hit with a disgusting smell, like rotting flesh and decaying bodies. Hold on, I can move my legs by myself now. I turn to make a dash out of this creepy place but am stopped when the door slams shut loudly. I rush forwards, pulling on the handle, trying to leave, get out, but it doesn't budge.
A low humming sound reaches my ears amongst the crows incessant cawing, like electricity buzzing through wires. All at once the room is lightened up as somehow the torches on the wall are ignited. The crows go silent. This must be what hell looks like.
I take a few moments, eyes adjusting to this new light source, before looking around the room.
Yep, it's a library alright. There are shelves all over the place, some knocked over with books spilling onto the ground, others just stood neatly in rows. All of them are covered in cobwebs and some weird black liquid coating the sides. Is that blood?
A rattling of some sort sounds from above me and I look up curiously only to take a step back in shock at the sight of many cages hanging from the ceiling. Each one is holding a raven or a crow (in a couple cages, one of each is stuck inside, barely enough room to move around.) The cages are small and old, creaking from side to side. Their beady eyes watch me through the bars of their tiny prison. This must be where the cawing was coming from, but why did they suddenly stop?
My musings are interrupted by a strange sound, almost like a moan of some sort mixed with what sounds like a barely human cacophony of a screeching, grating noises that make me want to rip off my own ears and bury them in a deep hole inside the earth.
Fear overtakes me and I search around for some way to escape or even just somewhere to hide. I spot a small opening underneath a pile of knocked-over shelves and bolt over as quickly as I can, ducking underneath without a moment of hesitation.
I crawl through the broken shelves, almost like a tunnel. I keep going until I reach a small opening, big enough that I can sit up. There's a small bit of light peeking through from a hole in one of the shelves that lights up the little space slightly.
The noises are more quiet now, much more distance. I can still hear the rattling of the birds though, I know if I peek through the hole they will all be staring. I can feel it.
My hand reaches blindly to the left for something to hold onto or fiddle with while in this little cramped space under these shelves. I feel something cold and wet touch my hand and pull it back before holding my hand out underneath the light to investigate. There's a strange gooey black substance residing on my hand and I quickly rub it off onto the side of my pants to get it off my skin.
It leaves an inky black stain.
I reach out to the right with my other hand and feel a strange leathery object. A book? Something feels a bit weird about the material, familiar even. Not in a good way.
I grab it and bring it closer, the light barely allowing me to make out the words, “Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy” on the front. It's not the words that interest me however, but the material. It almost reminds me of… well it couldn't be…
I held the book closer up to the light before dropping it in horror, making a loud banging noise that I was sure to regret. It wasn’t leather, it was skin. Human skin. The binding was stitches sewing the skin together, a human face stitched into the back of it, the eyes are missing but it's unmistakable. I shuffle backwards, away from that damn book but only end up backing into another broken shelf. A pile of books tumble onto me. All of them feel the same.
All of them are made of skin.
Human skin.
It's at this moment I realise that it's gone silent. The birds have stopped shuffling in their cages, not a single movement nor sound. The strange noise from before has also stopped.
A sudden crash sounds from somewhere around me, then another, then another. The birds are screeching again but this time one of them is in pain. It's a screech for help. It's a screech of fear.
Every part of me is telling me to get out, leave, run, escape; so I do. I crawl back through the tunnel as quickly as I can, not even caring about the noise I'm making. There's a horrendously sickening crunching sound from somewhere outside of these shelves and I take that as my cue to go faster. I can barely see but my focus is only on getting out and trying to escape.
I can see the other end. The light from the torches shows my escape and I squeeze through. In my rush to get out I bump a little too hard into one of the broken shelves and it collapses, pinning my legs down underneath the debris.
I search desperately for some kind of escape, something to help me lift this damn shelf but what I see instead makes my blood run cold.
A disgusting beast, hunched over half of a raven's mutilated corpse. Its pale grey skin clinging tightly onto its skeletal frame. It has a long, fat neck with a human-like head, razor sharp teeth, and a long skinny tongue. It has no eyes, just sockets. Long arms and large hands hold the beast up due to its lack of legs. It almost looks like it’s eaten its own legs off, as all it has are stumps left.
It turns its ugly head towards me, flesh rotting off of it. Panic overcomes me and I hold still, trying not to make a noise. If it can’t see me, then it must rely on both smell and noise.
The creature stills for a moment before grabbing the raven's corpse and tossing it to the side. It slowly crawls towards me, carrying itself forward using only its arms.
One step,
Two step,
Three step,
SNAP.
Behind the threshold of the door is just darkness. Complete and utter darkness.
Half my thoughts are screaming at me to leave and go into a different building but the voices in my head that don’t feel like my own demand I go in. Every instinct in my body is screaming that I run, panic flowing through my veins and yet I can’t move. I can't run.
I look down as I feel myself suddenly moving, not backwards, but forwards, towards the darkness. Ice fills my veins and I try and try to run back, to get away, to stop moving. Yet nothing works.
I reach the threshold of the door, and pause for some reason, like my body is reacting to my attempts to resist before it's quickly overpowered. As soon as my foot touches the wooden floor on the other side my hearing returns and I'm suddenly bombarded with the sound of what feels like thousands of crows cawing loudly, like a plea for help.
I can’t stop myself from taking another few steps forwards, into the darkness. Dust fills my lungs before I’m hit with a disgusting smell, like rotting flesh and decaying bodies. Hold on, I can move my legs by myself now. I turn to make a dash out of this creepy place but am stopped when the door slams shut loudly. I rush forwards, pulling on the handle, trying to leave, get out, but it doesn't budge.
A low humming sound reaches my ears amongst the crows incessant cawing, like electricity buzzing through wires. All at once the room is lightened up as somehow the torches on the wall are ignited. The crows go silent. This must be what hell looks like.
I take a few moments, eyes adjusting to this new light source, before looking around the room.
Yep, it's a library alright. There are shelves all over the place, some knocked over with books spilling onto the ground, others just stood neatly in rows. All of them are covered in cobwebs and some weird black liquid coating the sides. Is that blood?
A rattling of some sort sounds from above me and I look up curiously only to take a step back in shock at the sight of many cages hanging from the ceiling. Each one is holding a raven or a crow (in a couple cages, one of each is stuck inside, barely enough room to move around.) The cages are small and old, creaking from side to side. Their beady eyes watch me through the bars of their tiny prison. This must be where the cawing was coming from, but why did they suddenly stop?
My musings are interrupted by a strange sound, almost like a moan of some sort mixed with what sounds like a barely human cacophony of a screeching, grating noises that make me want to rip off my own ears and bury them in a deep hole inside the earth.
Fear overtakes me and I search around for some way to escape or even just somewhere to hide. I spot a small opening underneath a pile of knocked-over shelves and bolt over as quickly as I can, ducking underneath without a moment of hesitation.
I crawl through the broken shelves, almost like a tunnel. I keep going until I reach a small opening, big enough that I can sit up. There's a small bit of light peeking through from a hole in one of the shelves that lights up the little space slightly.
The noises are more quiet now, much more distance. I can still hear the rattling of the birds though, I know if I peek through the hole they will all be staring. I can feel it.
My hand reaches blindly to the left for something to hold onto or fiddle with while in this little cramped space under these shelves. I feel something cold and wet touch my hand and pull it back before holding my hand out underneath the light to investigate. There's a strange gooey black substance residing on my hand and I quickly rub it off onto the side of my pants to get it off my skin.
It leaves an inky black stain.
I reach out to the right with my other hand and feel a strange leathery object. A book? Something feels a bit weird about the material, familiar even. Not in a good way.
I grab it and bring it closer, the light barely allowing me to make out the words, “Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy” on the front. It's not the words that interest me however, but the material. It almost reminds me of… well it couldn't be…
I held the book closer up to the light before dropping it in horror, making a loud banging noise that I was sure to regret. It wasn’t leather, it was skin. Human skin. The binding was stitches sewing the skin together, a human face stitched into the back of it, the eyes are missing but it's unmistakable. I shuffle backwards, away from that damn book but only end up backing into another broken shelf. A pile of books tumble onto me. All of them feel the same.
All of them are made of skin.
Human skin.
It's at this moment I realise that it's gone silent. The birds have stopped shuffling in their cages, not a single movement nor sound. The strange noise from before has also stopped.
A sudden crash sounds from somewhere around me, then another, then another. The birds are screeching again but this time one of them is in pain. It's a screech for help. It's a screech of fear.
Every part of me is telling me to get out, leave, run, escape; so I do. I crawl back through the tunnel as quickly as I can, not even caring about the noise I'm making. There's a horrendously sickening crunching sound from somewhere outside of these shelves and I take that as my cue to go faster. I can barely see but my focus is only on getting out and trying to escape.
I can see the other end. The light from the torches shows my escape and I squeeze through. In my rush to get out I bump a little too hard into one of the broken shelves and it collapses, pinning my legs down underneath the debris.
I search desperately for some kind of escape, something to help me lift this damn shelf but what I see instead makes my blood run cold.
A disgusting beast, hunched over half of a raven's mutilated corpse. Its pale grey skin clinging tightly onto its skeletal frame. It has a long, fat neck with a human-like head, razor sharp teeth, and a long skinny tongue. It has no eyes, just sockets. Long arms and large hands hold the beast up due to its lack of legs. It almost looks like it’s eaten its own legs off, as all it has are stumps left.
It turns its ugly head towards me, flesh rotting off of it. Panic overcomes me and I hold still, trying not to make a noise. If it can’t see me, then it must rely on both smell and noise.
The creature stills for a moment before grabbing the raven's corpse and tossing it to the side. It slowly crawls towards me, carrying itself forward using only its arms.
One step,
Two step,
Three step,
SNAP.