An entire forest grew around the town in an hour. It stayed for three hours, before dying, then vanishing completely.
No one could damage the trees, with axe or fire, which were both attempted. About 10% of them had blue leaves, and fruits in geometric shapes.
People who had nothing to fear, like Colem Arth, tried this fruit.
Colem turned into a statue of diamond. A few others grew crystal horns, or had a ringing quality to their voice. One girl, a 7th grader named Nancy Hewitt, had her eyes and tongue turned to crystal. Unlike Constant Lee Anders, Nancy Hewitt could still see and retained the ability to speak. These effects did not disappear.
I had the unfortunate expirience of being behind a car that was constantly falling apart.
Well, its tires were. As the person drove, their tires broke and fell apart into sand and dust, leaving trails behind. Despite the constant disintegration, they kept reforming, seemingly from nothing.
Still, the slant in the car and its uneasy handling lead me to believe that the car should be scrapped, or the person's liscence revoked. Probably the latter--I doubt the former would hold.
I was outside of the deli with Julia when it happened.
The deli is settled between the second and third lights of a series of four intersections. Every road was empty, and every light on Crown Street, which led directly into the Lower Marcus Ward, had turned green at the same time.
I assume the driver of the green sedan yelled out "Score!" to themselves, since the moment they turned onto Crown Street they immediately started to pick up speed.
They didn't even reached the second light before the hood collapsed onto itself, as if they had hit something. The car spun and struck a mailbox, knocking it over, and then finally stopped. Julia and one other passerby ran to save the person.
Before the police came to try and control the situation, I managed to get a look at the sedan's damage. It was curved, like it was trying to wrap around a pole.
Since there were no cars, I tried to find what the person hit, and was met with empty air.
I did hear....something. I couldn't determine the sound or the source, only that it was getting further away.
Now....let me tell you about where I live.
I live in the Avery Ward, to the South East of Misery. It's...a trailer park. The neighborhood comprises of mobile homes, abandoned metal barns, and ruined or half built gas stations and strip malls, of which only three are functional. The sky in the Avery District was a muted grey [a deviation of the perpetual white sky in Misery, instead of the normal blue]. The neighborhood was dreary...but it was also full of -life-. The people here were happy, there was almost no crime, and the community here was much closer to each other than in the other wards.
My neighbors include Oisin, who lives in the shed next to our trailer. He always wears a skirt, and gives really bad life advice. The Sisters of Clemency live next to him; they're all nuns from the Houses of Ten (there are 8 of them; the other two live in their temples, as their doctrine dictates). All of them are super nice, and only Charity, who follows Astros, tries to convert me.
Behind us lives Anthony and Aiseline. They're a couple in their mid 60s who, despite mirroring each other, aren't related but are married. They claim to be able to speak to vehicles, but say that lawn mowers and pogo sticks can't talk and aren't alive.
Next to them lives Whistle. Whistle is pretty ordinary looking, but is also very open about his profession in the buying and selling of drugs. The police keep catching him, but he always gets out within a few hours. How? He won't tell me; he just winks, then takes a hit of whatever he bought.
The crown jewel of my neighbors, though, is a boy by the name of Micah Prince. He's a junior at MSAA, and his brother Enos is a sixth grader. Micah Prince is infamous; what for, though, no one will tell me. When prompted, they ask me if I know "What the Blood Parade is"; when I told them that I didn't, they immediately clammed up. I would have asked him myself, but every time the thought crossed my mind, I would freeze, or the hair on my arms would rise. -This is a very bad idea-, my body would tell me. And so, even though he was in five of my classes, I never said a word to him.
Of note, though, there is one other person in his trailer other than his mom and his brother. A meek, small girl who was about my age; she seemed familiar, but I didn't know why...
No one could enter Building 17 today. While it wasn't exactly because of the overgrown vines wrapping around the entire property, growing denser and knotting at any entrance, especially the door, they certainly helped.
My peers weren't exactly....affected by the blockage. They saw it as an opportunity to mess with their phones and have a break; two couples even decided to have a picnic right then and there.
Meiriam, of course, went to grab her father, Principal Lee Anders, who proceeded to do a particularly....intricate ritual that required dancing around the building, swallowing a stick of butter whole, and stabbing a statue made of some kind of melon with a firepoker.
The vines choking Building 17 blackened, but did not wilt. Apparently, this was not the intended effect, since Principal Lee Anders frowned, crossed his arms, and said "The woods rot serves to the feeding of his growth." Whatever that meant.
No one except me seemed to pay much attention to Principal Lee Anders as he tried to free the building several different ways, which includes: using wichfyre to burn the vines away [it didn't], talking to the vines using the language of flowers [from what I gathered, the flowers grown by the vines in response essentially said "fuck off"], and simply hacking at the vines with the firepoker.
There were ten minutes left in class when Principal Lee Anders decided to call for outside help.
I didn't expect my neighbor Prudence to show up, trying to ride her bike in her vestments; as an Oracle, the priestesses who followed the Goddess Aliurian, her garments were highly impractical. The vestments were designed to show off as much skin as possible, to display the jagged tree like scars that all Oracles had to bear.
Prudence approached the vines and pressed her palm against them, letting her eyes drift close. She stayed like that while my peers began to wander off, some moving on to their next class, while some outright skipped, using Principal Lee Anders attention to the blockage to leave without his notice. My next class still im Building 17, so I had to stay while the next group of students approached and were faced with the same problem as the previous period.
Prudence pulled away from the vines with a worried look, and pulled Principal Lee Anders aside to talk. They would occasionally point at me, which just made me hug myself and try to seem smaller than I already was. If they thought I had something to do with this catastrophe, they would be sorely mistaken; I still wasn't allowed to do the practical labs in any of the thaumaturgy classes.
Principal Lee Anders approached me with his hands behind his back, and Prudence followed, fidgeting with her mossy hair. They pulled me to the side, away from the other students.
"Story," Prudence began, wringing her hands. "We, uhm..."
Principal Lee Anders interjected. "We need your help, son."
"With....the vines?" They nodded. "I don't see how I can help..."
"It's not you, per se..."
"Your blood, Mr. Page. We need your blood."
[End of Part 1]
The girl who lives with Micah Prince. He doesn't have a sister, so....a friend? A cousin? A girlfriend?
For some reason, I cannot remember this girl. Beyond this blog, I also keep a journal with me in case I get hacked or something gets corrupted.
I have four seperate journal entries about her. Nothing about a name, or anything weird--just how I've seen her around.
No one seems to know who this girl is, and when I asked Micah he agressively said "Don't worry about it," and left it at that.
I remember intending to approach the girl and ask but....nothing. I can't seem to remember her.
I'm making this post now in hopes to remember. Focusing on her seems to stop....whatever this is, but the instant I get distracted....
I had to write this post, dear readers, five times. That's how quickly I forgot this girl.
"Meet me under the screaming tree when the moon starts to blink."
~A conversation I overheard between two students. Possibly a couple
His name is Kurt.
The boy who is always soaked to the bone. While he didn’t give me his name himself, his older brother, Lucas [the one who wears the welding gloves everywhere] happily gave it to me.
Kurt has no friends by choice. Anyone who approaches him is immediately met with a paragraph long verbal lashing.
He’s always wet, as if he had just crawled out from the ocean. It is not sweat either; the custodian Principal Lee Anders has assigned to him claims that it is actually lake water. How she acquired this information, though, she wasn’t keen on giving.
Her name is Sara Powers. And she has a strange condition.
During my first week in Misery, I was required to stay after classes ended every day, as a sort of study hall to catch up on what I missed, as well as a seminar on the required extracurricular activities that they offered.
One of those extracurriculars was gardening, which provided the herbs for home ec, tea reading, and rootwork classes. It was also one of the only clubs that, by necessitiy, had its own building to itself, the greenhouse.
Sara Powers was a reserved and....let's say "abrasive" individual. Like 50 percent of Misery's population, she wore dark, concealing clothes, dark make up, and dyed her hair black, though streaks of her natural brown would occasionally peek through. Upon meeting her parents, it seemed like she was raised into the fashion, rather than choosing it like most of the Miserians.
She always seemed to be able to appear out of nowhere--I thought that this was her oddity, like Kurt's constant sweat of lake water or Anthony's apparent ability to talk to vehicles. However, my visit to the greenhouse proved that this was not the case.
When I entered the building, I didn't expect to see Sara in there. She didn't seem like the type to garden, or in fact care about anything that was alive.
She was kneeling on the ground, digging through a cherry red messenger bag and muttering to herself. She gasped, and pulled out a crude and shoddily crafted wooden mask.
I would have walked in and said something, but then Sara put the mask on.
Describing what happened is....hard. I could say it was like she shed her skin, but that wouldn't be accurate. It was more like her body was made of dual faced plates, and the plates were faced to the side that showed off Sara. But when she put on the mask, those plates flipped to reveal this new....creature? Entity fits better.
And yet, that description still doesn't do it justice.
What matters is that Sara was not there anymore. This new thing....she had skin that seemed to be made of polished wood. Her hair was made from the branches and trees of a willow tree, and she stood as tall as an oak. Her leaves covered the fact that she was completely naked, but it didn't hide the fact that she was levitating--my guess was so that she didn't harm the grass beneath her feet.
When this entity appeared, all of the plants in the greenhouse bloomed. Leaves stood and brightened to a healthy green; flower pods opened up and revealed dazzling heads; fruits ripened and herbs became ready for the picking.
It was like this creature was....
Spring. The word Miserians used to describe Not-Winter. I never understood it until now.
I had gasped. That was a mistake.
The creature spun to face me, and was just as shocked as I was that I was standing there right then and there. The entity grabbed her face and ripped it off; the plate ripple shifted back to Sara, and the crude wooden mask appeared in her hands. Her eyes were wide; mine were too, those hers were still the same pupiless yellow that the entity had, instead of her normal grey-green.
The entity. Spring.
Sara and I stared at each other for what seemed like forever. She began to countdown. "5...."
I was gone before she reached 4.
A compendium of the horrifically fantastic going-ons of a small town
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