09-02-2020, 03:27 PM
<center><img src=https://i.postimg.cc/t4LXcSLK/by-kharthian-small.png></center><center><table bgcolor=011d33 style="border-color:#121313; border-width: 0px; border-style: solid; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 10px"" cellspacing=15 cellpadding=15 width=600><tr><td><p align=justify><font color=ededed face=times size=2>When the buzzing stops, Beyza first assumes it is something else being stolen from her. That this strange, alien place is just going to keep eating away parts of her all while her mind remains aware, remains trapped in a decaying body as more and more slips away.
But then she takes a fumbling step and her hooves shuffle on the ground with a soft sound. A breath of relief escapes her and her eyes close, enjoying this small island of peace as her worries and panic ebb.
When she opens them again - she sees the figures. She blinks again, out of surprise. It is as though they did not so much <i>arrive</i> as just appear, pieces of the landscape hobbled together to form grotesque and twisted bodies. Beyza actually feels some more of her fear fade away for a brief tease of a moment as she regards them. That undauntable curiosity takes over and she marvels at the, and how they don’t so much walk but slide and stutter over the extraordinary landscape. The area around her births so many of them.
She is still busy marvelling at them when they attack, and it is only then that she remembers that she has no magic.
Remembers she cannot even scream for help.
Beyza thinks she does hear screaming, though. The noise echoes around her as she is knocked to the ground that feels slick under her skin. Is that someone else’s terror or is this place somehow teasing her with her own voice? They had stolen it and now they play it in a broken, distant loop as Beyza feels what it is like to have her leg bones splintered.
Her mind is trying to rationalize what is happening but it is all white noise with no logical thought for her to grasp onto. Beyza’s eyes are wide in terror and all she can see around her is a wave of these beasts, climbing over each other like a tide trying to get to her. Her mouth keeps opening to speak or scream but not even a gasp comes out. She opens and closes it like a fish out of water as she tries, again and again, to call out until she begins to choke.
Not on oil this time or even rats - but on herself. Her blood and pieces of her throat as it is torn and shredded by too many mouths to count.
She has just tipped over the edge of death when she wakes on the beach in a violent gasp of breath as it rushes back into her body. Beyza jolts to her hooves only to collapse back onto the sand a moment later when pain shoots through her legs and they give up beneath her. She is still covered in her own blood, but the damage done to her body is lesser than it had been - she actually frowns at this thought, frowns at one foreleg stretched before her. It is not broken anymore and the pain is not blinding. Instead, it is violent and dull, as though her entire body is bruised deeply.
She sags fully back into the sand, letting it cushion her head. Her whole body trembles still and though she thinks of Jamie - wonders whether he made it - she cannot bring herself to try to call out to him or even look. Beyza just closes her eyes and lies there, the new sensation of fear alive and coursing in her veins where her magic had once been and she does not have the energy to fight it. Not yet. She succumbs to this weakness and even as she sobs quietly, she promises herself this is the last time she’ll let the fear win.
</font></p>
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet"><div style="font-family: 'Cormorant Garamond', serif; font-size: 19px; color: #ccdeed; transform: uppercase; line-height: 105%; text-align: center; text-shadow: 0px 0px 4px #ffffff;"><i>beyza</i></div></tr></td></table></center>
<center><a href="https://www.deviantart.com/kharthian/art/YHH-Beyza-Littlewillow-art-828263754">artwork by kharthian</a></center>
But then she takes a fumbling step and her hooves shuffle on the ground with a soft sound. A breath of relief escapes her and her eyes close, enjoying this small island of peace as her worries and panic ebb.
When she opens them again - she sees the figures. She blinks again, out of surprise. It is as though they did not so much <i>arrive</i> as just appear, pieces of the landscape hobbled together to form grotesque and twisted bodies. Beyza actually feels some more of her fear fade away for a brief tease of a moment as she regards them. That undauntable curiosity takes over and she marvels at the, and how they don’t so much walk but slide and stutter over the extraordinary landscape. The area around her births so many of them.
She is still busy marvelling at them when they attack, and it is only then that she remembers that she has no magic.
Remembers she cannot even scream for help.
Beyza thinks she does hear screaming, though. The noise echoes around her as she is knocked to the ground that feels slick under her skin. Is that someone else’s terror or is this place somehow teasing her with her own voice? They had stolen it and now they play it in a broken, distant loop as Beyza feels what it is like to have her leg bones splintered.
Her mind is trying to rationalize what is happening but it is all white noise with no logical thought for her to grasp onto. Beyza’s eyes are wide in terror and all she can see around her is a wave of these beasts, climbing over each other like a tide trying to get to her. Her mouth keeps opening to speak or scream but not even a gasp comes out. She opens and closes it like a fish out of water as she tries, again and again, to call out until she begins to choke.
Not on oil this time or even rats - but on herself. Her blood and pieces of her throat as it is torn and shredded by too many mouths to count.
She has just tipped over the edge of death when she wakes on the beach in a violent gasp of breath as it rushes back into her body. Beyza jolts to her hooves only to collapse back onto the sand a moment later when pain shoots through her legs and they give up beneath her. She is still covered in her own blood, but the damage done to her body is lesser than it had been - she actually frowns at this thought, frowns at one foreleg stretched before her. It is not broken anymore and the pain is not blinding. Instead, it is violent and dull, as though her entire body is bruised deeply.
She sags fully back into the sand, letting it cushion her head. Her whole body trembles still and though she thinks of Jamie - wonders whether he made it - she cannot bring herself to try to call out to him or even look. Beyza just closes her eyes and lies there, the new sensation of fear alive and coursing in her veins where her magic had once been and she does not have the energy to fight it. Not yet. She succumbs to this weakness and even as she sobs quietly, she promises herself this is the last time she’ll let the fear win.
</font></p>
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cormorant+Garamond" rel="stylesheet"><div style="font-family: 'Cormorant Garamond', serif; font-size: 19px; color: #ccdeed; transform: uppercase; line-height: 105%; text-align: center; text-shadow: 0px 0px 4px #ffffff;"><i>beyza</i></div></tr></td></table></center>
<center><a href="https://www.deviantart.com/kharthian/art/YHH-Beyza-Littlewillow-art-828263754">artwork by kharthian</a></center>