Welcome to Deepdweller's Gulch!

[Moridanu]

*Leaving the brothers, she turned on her heel and walked back to the bedroom, the computer beeping at her again as she passed. Pausing to click on her mouse, she saw that there was a message from Barton waiting her. She cried out in surprise more than in pain however, when the silver ball rolled to a stop at her feet. Without thinking, Steven scrambled to his feet and ran after the ball. He dove on it, laying in a heap at her feet. Gripping the ball triumphantly, he raised his eyes to look up at Caelyn. His huge brown eyes trailed up her legs, her thighs and lingered far longer than they should have at her lady parts before continuing up past her taut stomach before coming to rest on her ample breasts. He didn’t move or even blink. Stifling a laugh, she glanced over at Samuel who was scurrying after his brother.

~Sorry Miss Caelyn.. we didn’t mean no disrespect.. honest…~ He trailed off as his eyes too found her breasts. With his mouth hanging open, he stared at her chest. Neither brother made a sound or moved an inch. Caelyn laughed.

~Okay boys.. I know my girls are impressive and you probably aint seen anything like them before, but you need to close your mouths. You’re drooling all over my carpet.~ Both jaws closed with an audible click in unison. Samuel glanced at Steven and whispered ~Whhhaaa… tt.. wh..??!~ Steven kicked him in response. Caelyn giggled.

~Let me go make myself more.. respectable.~ She turned on her heel just as the computer beeped again. Three unread messages now.
~You’ll have to wait m’love..~ she purred as she sauntered into the bedroom.

Back in the loungeroom, Steven watched as Caelyn left and then turned to Samuel and whispered . ~What were those.. things.. on her chest? They kinda look like Bessie’s bits.. but Bessie’s bits didn’t look anything like those?!~

Samuel swatted him as though he were an annoying fly. ~I dunno.. ask James. He knows more about those bits than I do.~

Steven ducked the offending hand and began to whine. ~But what ARE they?? What are they for? I mean Bessie’s bits were for milk.. I don’t think we could milk hers?? Or… could we?~ His brown eyes were wide as saucers.

Samuel kicked him. ~I don’t know already!! Quit it..~ as Steven kicked him back and the two brothers started jostling.

The sound of the brothers playing drifted to her ears from the other side of the wall, and she found herself smiling just to hear another sound in her apartment that wasn’t made by her. Although she often drowned out the deafening silence that was caused by her lonely existence with music and melody, she was achingly aware that she was starved of any form of human interaction; even if they were more of an ethereal apparition than solid human beings. Deciding the thin silk robe would do little to erase the image of her naked form from the two impressionable minds currently residing in her loungeroom, she crossed to the walk in robe and quickly chose a pair of her favourite jeans and a loose, cashmere sweater in pale blue. Padding out into the loungeroom with bare feet she found both brothers where she had left them, wrestling with each other. She waited patiently for them to notice her return and flashed a dazzling smile as they politely stood still and fixed their brown gaze on her.

~Okay.. so, you’ve probably figured out this aint my first rodeo. I’m from .. a different time and space from you, so there’s lots of things in here that you aint never seen and probably never should. There’s also no veil or filter in here so I can see you two handsome boys for exactly what you are. Why don’t we sit down and get better acquainted? You can tell me all about your brother… the sheriff. Oh and if you don’t mind, maybe fill me in what the hell is happening out there?~ *

Samuel scowled. "How the Hell should we know what that was? We're dead, lady, and those things wasn't. "

"Them's probably demons, " Steven whispered fearfully. "No danger for me an' Sammy, but they can hurt people easy as pickin' flowers." The little ghost pantomimed scooping up a flower with one hand, and the other pulling the bloom off the stem with a twist.

"You don't know that, " Samuel snapped at his brother. "Could be all sorts o' things." He looked Caelyn over with a critical eye. "But Stevie's right," he conceded, "They hurt a lot o' people last night. Killed 'em real nasty, like when our hounds would get ahold of a cat or a rabbit."

"Like when Bodger got ol' Jane Tilly's cat, Sweet Pea!" Steven screwed his face into his fiercest 8- year- old grimace. "Got her 'round the middle and shook her to pieces!" He growled and threw his little head from side to side, imitating. "By the time Bodger was done, Sweet Pea was scattered across the yard."

"Probably best you stay inside, Miss Caelyn," Samuel said, his tone uncharacteristically bashful. "You don't want to mess with... whatever they were."

"You should ask Alister!" Steven shouted excitedly. "He knows all about ghosts and ghouls and demons and things." The little ghost grinned. "Used to be you couldn't get his nose out of a book to come in from the rain. Learned about all the nasties, how to fight 'em." Steven glanced slyly over at his twin brother. "How to kill 'em!" he shouted, launching himself at Samuel.

At the mention of the Sherrif, Caelyn felt a slender dark brow shoot up over one violet eye as a small smile played upon her nude lips.

~So the Sherrif likes to read?~ Her eyes cast a quick glance over at the rather large and obnoxious book case that lined the wall on either side of the large window that really couldn’t be called a window at all. Being in a permanent state of limbo between any particular space and time, Caelyn had worked her magic to ensure she could choose whatever view most appealed to her current mood. As she looked at the magical porthole that showed a forest scene, dense with evergreens and firs, the eternal rainstorm continued to lash the ‘glass’ with torrents of silvery rivers of icy rain. Memories of a recent rainstorm with Barton flashed in her mind and she cast a quick glance towards her computer, making the mental note to respond to the flashing green light that told her there were messages waiting from him for her to read. A loud commotion broke her gaze however, and she looked back at the brothers to see what was going on.

The bigger brother sidestepped, adopting a pose with his back arched and his arms tucked in, fingers curved into claws. Samuel screeched and roared, making an exaggerated swipe at Steven with his claw-fingers. Steven spun away with surprising grace, before turning back and saluting his brother with an imaginary sword. Then he leapt forward, slashing the invisible sword in an X. Samuel stumbled back and roared again, claw- hands waving wildly as Steven pulled a phantom pistol from his hip and shouted "Pow! Pow! Pow!"

Samuel let out a pitiful death cry and fell to his knees, gaging and sputtering. Steven charged his twin with a whoop that turned into an exclamation as Samuel surge to his feet, scooping up his brother and throwing him over one shoulder.

"No fair!" cried Steven, arms and legs flailing, "you're supposed to be dead, I killed you!"

"Shook her to pieces!" Samuel bellowed, throwing his small brother across his shoulders and flinging himself from side to side, drawing delighted squeals from Steven. "Scattered across the yard!" He roared, spinning round and round as Steven giggled and shouted.

“Okay, okay.. you two need to calm down. I know you’re used to your.. whatdoyacallit.. ethereal form, but in here you two are as solid as houses. I’ve got lots of precious things that cost a pretty penny, so best be careful you don’t break anything!”

She grinned as both brothers stopped in their tracks and turned to look at her with almost identical guilty grins.

“We sorry Miss Caelyn..” they mumbled.

“Nothing to be sorry about boys. I do enjoy watching you play. Its been far too long since I had anything quite as lively as you two to entertain me.”

She bestowed upon them her most dazzling smile, a temporary distraction from the look of melancholy that tinged her violet eyes with sadness as a thought occurred to her.

“I suppose its weird, to refer to you both as lively when its clearly been many moons since you were alive on this plane?” Judging by the look of bewilderment on their sweet faces, she guessed that they were as naive and innocent as their youth indicated.

“Ignore me boys.. rainy days make me moody..” she trailed off as her violet eyes drifted to her window once more, the falling rain causing a soft mist that seemed to haunt the dark evergreens of the forest. Lost in thought, she twirled a long dark curl around one finger, gnawing on her bottom lip as her eyes grew moist. How long she lingered in the moment, she had no idea but by the time she turned her attention back to the brothers, a smile lit up her eyes as she saw that Steven had long grown bored of her inattention and had gone back to throwing his ball up in the air, the glittery orb refracting rainbow prisms of light that danced around the apartment and bounced off the walls. Samuel had followed her gaze to the ‘window’ and was now standing an inch away from the glass, his fingers tracing the silver rivulets of rain. Her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet, she approached him quietly and stood beside him for a moment.

~Beautiful isn’t it? I used to live in a forest just like this… though mine was filled with more shadows than rain…~ she trailed off and turned her gaze upon him.

~Speaking of shadows… I’ve got some questions about this darkness that seems to have descended upon the Gulch. Think your brother might be able to shed some light here?~

Samuel turned to face her, blinking rapidly as if trying to emerge from the spell the falling rain had cast upon him.

~If anyone knows, it’d be ‘im. Want me to go get ‘im?~

Nodding with a smile, she turned to look at Steven, still throwing his ball in the air; the rainbow of light illuminating his young features. ~That would be lovely. Thank you boys.~

Samuel nodded, bowed and then seemed to hesitate before turning on his heel and hurrying over to his brother. Yanking him by the back of his collar, he ignored Steven’s protests.

~Come on already.. we gotta go get Al..~

Caelyn stifled a laugh as she watched Steven drag his still wailing brother towards the beaded curtain. As they disappeared through the beads, she watched their solidness turn instantly translucent, flickering slightly before they disappeared completely. Sighing sadly, she murmured ~Alone again..~ before wrapping her arms around her lithe frame, hugging herself as she turned to look out her ‘window’ once more. *

[Plot Puppets]

Suzy watches miserably as Jack and the twins disappeared into the saloon, the unconscious prostitute over Jack's large shoulder. A bitter sigh escapes her lips as the saloon doors swing shut. "Well, guess he found his entertainment for the night," she mutters, voice tinged with envy.

"Maybe, maybe not," comes the voice of Gilbert. Suzy glances over and spies Gill patting the flanks of a roan mare as the thirst horse takes its fill from the trough. Not looking up from the mare, he calls over to Suzy, "Ye know Jack don't like 'em easy." Gilbert moves on to another horse, a tall bay, looking it over and inspecting its legs. "He likes 'em with spirit. Likes to break 'em down before he breaks 'em down."

Suzy glares angrily at Gilbert but remains silent.

"You know I'm right," Gilbert continues, pulling a currying brush from a saddlebag. "We all 'member what happened that night. All doe-eyed, offerin' yerself to 'im like a love-struck farm boy. An' what'd that getcha?" Gilbert turns to face Suzy and slaps the back of his hand into the palm of the other. "Knuckles in the mush."

Suzy's face flushes red in rage and humiliation. Gilbert shrugs and turns his attention back to the horses. Suzy rises from her perch on the edge of the boardwalk and stalks toward Gilbert, a hand raised. "Now listen here, you son of a--" As she nears the horse-tender, one of his charges steps back suddenly, its meaty flank catching Suzy full on the jaw. Stunned, Suzy reels backward before collapsing onto her rump as Gilbert lets out a belly laugh.

Suzy jumps to her feet cursing at the horse, at Gilbert, at Hangman Jack. She can barely see straight as she grabs the saddle of her own mare and heaves herself up onto it. She wheels her mount and sends a spur-clad kick at the laughing horseman, catching him full across the face and bringing his laughter to an abrupt end. She glares with satisfaction at Gilbert, who lies sprawling in the dust with an open gash across his forehead, before kicking the horse into a gallop, headed for the edge of town.

Nearby, Elmer settles in on the balcony of a ruined husk that had once been the town bank. The roof had collapsed into the second story, leaving the inside an impassible wreck of shattered roof boards and smashed ceiling joists atop what was once a series of stately, if outdated, office spaces. Elmer had shinnied up the drain pipe to the balcony and heaved himself over the balcony. He leans back against the railing with a bone-weary sigh, then leans his rifle against the railing before reaching into his jacket to produce a flask. He listens to the exchange between Suzy and Gilbert, disinterested, as he uncorks the flask and takes a long swig. The sound of Gilbert's laughter draws his attention, and he glances between the uprights of the railing in time to see Suzy's foot flash out, her heel taking him across the face with a crack. Elmer winces as Gilbert lies stunned, blook pouring from his forehead, before taking another long pull from the flask. He watches as Suzy's mount pounds for the edge of town, then turns to look the opposite direction down the street. Two lantern-wielding riders make their way away from the saloon with pistol in hand.

Patrons begin to pour from the saloon in ragged ones and twos, those that can walk and those that needed help, stumbling, shambling, and limping away. He glances toward the two riders, making note of each as one vanishes into a darkened alleyway, and the other melting into the shadowy remains of an awning above the boardwalk. The small crowd of folk seem not to notice the riders as they each make their way toward their individual destinations. Two last stragglers exit the building, a pretty blonde and what looks to be the prostitute Jack had waylaid.

Elmer glanced through the railing at Gilbert again. "Looks like you were right," he mutters, raising his flask.





With agonizing slowness, the two men warily inch toward the darkened house. Lanterns high, they part the tall golden stalks with drawn pistols as if searching among them. One step gingerly, heavy silhouette prodding the earth with a foot before taking each step. The other, a tall thin shadow against the moonlight, walks with shoulders hunched, head swinging from side to side.

When at last they reach the old wooden steps of the porch the men pause briefly to glance back toward the road where their partners wait, mounted and with horses ready to ride. A flicker of matchlight flares as one of the mounted figures puffs a cigar to life. The other stands up in his stirrups and puts a hand to his mouth. "Y'all got anything?" the rider calls, voice low and hoarse. In response, the tall shadow man turns his lamp toward the riders and works the shutter, a double flash to indicate negative. The rider sinks back onto his saddle, grumbling.

The two men ease their way up the steps, the heavier man testing each step before putting his weight on it. The other follows behind, shining his lantern toward the edges of the porch. Once on the porch, the heavier man moves to one side and shines his light out over the field of wheat as the thin man shutters his lantern and approaches to peer through one dirty window. He observes for but a moment, then lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Whadda ya see, Hopper?" whispers the heavier man, still scanning the field.

"I spy a good time inside," Hopper utters, leering back at his companion, voice full of lascivious intent. His companion freezes a moment, then glances at Hopper with a grin. "I'll signal the others," he says, holstering his pistol. As he reaches for the shutter of his lantern, Hopper's hand darts out and grabs the thick wrist of his companion.

"Not yet, Earl," he whispers fiercely, gripping the wrist tight . "They can have what's left after we've had our fun." Earl's grin widens further as he lowers his hand from the lantern. The two turn back to the farmhouse and creep toward the door. Hopper stoops and carefully sets his shuttered lantern on the porch, then lightly sets his fingers on the doorknob, testing. Finding it unlocked, he and Earl nod to one another before Hopper swings the door open. Earl strides through the threshold, lantern high, eyes fixed on Elyza's naked form.

"Well now, what have we here?" Earl utters as he steps toward Elyza. "Seems we've caught you indisposed, miss," a grin creases his thick lips as his eyes rake over Elyza from top to bottom and back. "Please do forgive our calling at a bad time," the words dribble from his mouth with mock sincerity as lantern light gleams along the smooth barrel of the pistol trained on her.

Hopper's slender silhouette comes swaggering through the door behind Earl, a long blade in one hand, with unblinking eyes roaming Elyza's naked flesh. "Why Earl," he says, face split in a vile grin that reveals browned and broken teeth, "looks to me like the lady's ready for a good time."

"Is that right?" Earl takes another step toward Elyza, raising his pistol suggestively. "You ready for a good time, miss?"

"I'm ready for a good time," Hopper closes in beside Earl, blade forward.

"Let's have a good time."

[Blood and Roses]

Consciousness came fleeting to Alister Conrad. His senses swirled and flitted like colorful cloth scraps caught in a dust devil, flashing into focus and sliding away just as quickly as they came. Jaws and limbs of indescribable horrors covered in slick scarlet. Shouting, screaming, crying, howling. The taste of dirt and blood. A blinding light, and consuming darkness. Weightlessness. The immovable earth crushing him. Silence.

"Awaken, child of destiny." The voice struck Conrad deep within, a reverberation that shook his very bones. It rumbled as though from deep beneath the earth, the grinding of stone on stone, of tectonic plates crashing into one another as continents shifted. His eyes snapped open.

The sheriff woke into a world of parched dust-gray earth that stretches to the horizon under hoary skies. He found that he was propped against the bole of a long-dead tree, limbs and boughs gone, leaving only jagged stumps where once a great canopy must have once stretched. In the distance, the empty plain of cracked earth was dotted by jutting spikes and arches of alabaster bones, the remains of behemoths that Alister could not imagine walking the earth. The sky roiled and grumbled, the flat clouds visible by the flickers of hidden lightning that danced above them. A hot wind blasted him from behind as a small vortex of silvery dust blows past and on toward the endless expanse ahead. An eerie melody played through the air, like a hundred voices sounding different notes in impossibly long breaths to form a song of anguish and loss.

A sick dread filled Conrad as his senses came to him. Though unfamiliar, he knew this place. Desolation.

"Come to me." The voice was one that Conrad knew too well, a voice that slithered through his mind like the coils of a serpent. He shook his head, teeth gritting as he attempted to clear his senses. An unfamiliar emptiness filled his mind, and he knew that his brothers, the ever-present apparitions that had haunted him his entire life, were gone. Panic surged within, but he beat it back and allowed his arcane sense to expand. He could feel that they were still tethered to his soul, still bound to him by ancient magics that tied them together. Somewhere, they were waiting for him.

Conrad slowly rose to his feet, his body feeling oddly light, surprise registering as he realized that there was no pain or stiffness in his muscles. His throat was parched and dry, his lips burning with thirst. He took a careful step, and the earth cracked and crumbled beneath his booted foot with a small puff of dust that was immediately swept away in the hot breeze. He gazed slowly over the barren plain, and his eyes came to rest on the distant dome of a massive skull half-buried in the dusty earth. Too many cavernous eye sockets stared back, the stumps of broken horns jutting at asymmetrical angles, with its impossibly large jaws buried in the cracked and broken earth. Conrad tried to imagine the beast such a skull must have belonged to, but the size and shape were impossible to make sense of.

The air hummed for a moment before a spear of lightning illuminated the plain in its blinding brilliance, lancing down from the heavens to smash into the massive skull. Conrad threw his arm up over his eyes, his vision washed away in white light, as a wave of dust and debris smashed into him, and the air exploded with the concussive force of the thunderous report. When at last his vision cleared and the ringing in his ears subsided, he could see that the boney dome of the skull was blasted open, the jagged edges resembling a blackened crown atop the empty eye sockets.

"Come to me." The voice was more forceful, insistent, pulling at his mind like grasping hands, attempting to drag him forward. Conrad took a halting step toward the horizon, then another, before looking back at the tree behind him. The clouds above flickered, electricity crawling through them menacingly. Conrad gritted his teeth and turned to face the horizon once more.


How long Conrad walked, he had no idea. The distant horizon drew no closer as he trudged on, the towering bones of the ancient beasts that served as landmarks came and passed in the endless march. He noted that they cast no shadow on the dusty earth. Darkness did not gather beneath them, nor did his own shadow stretch in any direction. There was no passing of day into night, nor darkness into light, as he trod ever onward. His thirst was ever-present, his eyes grew dry and weary, but his muscles felt no soreness from the travel. He felt oddly disconnected from his body, his need for water and sleep were undeniably powerful, but his body felt no strain.

The wind blew relentlessly across the desolate plain. The scattered, ancient bones that thrust up into the sky seemed to hum and vibrate as the wind blew over them, each ringing with a different pitch to create the droning harmony of despair that filled the air of this empty land. Conrad could not block out the song, even with his hands over his ears. He steeled himself. The song could sap the will of any who heard it, leaving them despairing, powerless husks to desiccate and crumble away on this parched plain.

Conrad raised a hand to his eyes, the sockets feeling grainy as he dug the heels of his hands into the orbs hoping to bring new moisture to them. He lowered his hand and blinked hard, then turned to look back to where he had come from. The wind was hot in his face as he looked back, searching. His footsteps wound into the distance, but he could not make out the tree stump where he had woken. The wind howling through the singing bones grew in force, the song becoming louder and louder, like an approaching freight train. The clouded sky began to darken, as did the earth beneath. It roiled and shook as lightning lanced down from the sky along the horizon. He stared back defiantly, watching as each strike of lightning grew closer, each clap of thunder louder, the seething song more fevered.

"Come on, then!" He screamed into the wind and sky. "Come and take me, if you think you can!" The winds surged against him. He clenched his fists and stared angrily into the clouds as bolts of lightning slammed into the earth, one after another, approaching him at a terrifying pace. The screaming wind swept around and around him, a cyclone of dust and debris that that stretched up into the darkened sky, tearing at his clothes and whipping his black hair in a frenzy. Conrad covered his ears and howled into the sky, a challenge answered by a final stroke of lightning that blasted straight down the funnel of the cyclone. The gray plains of Desolation vanished in an explosion of hot white destruction.



Gradually Conrad's senses returned. The song was gone, the wind was silent, the clouds a flat gray. The ground before him was charred and blackened, descending on all sides like a great bowl. At its nadir crouched a megalithic tower of behemoth bones, piled together in what first appeared a haphazard heap of discarded remains so tall that it thrust up out of the crater and into the sky. The longer that Conrad stared, however, the more his eyes deciphered the infernal geometry, revealing the unholy architecture of a profane cathedral. Great femurs and humeri stacked into grim walls, atop which gargantuan rib bones swept upward to form the points and peaks of a twisted roof. Spiraling towers of vertebrae bracketed a courtyard of carpals and tarsals, fenced by phalanges twice as tall as a man. A single cavernous skull served as the entry, a split mandible wide enough to drive a herd through creating a natural channel of massive walls lined along their tops with teeth the length of spears. Above, the shattered dome of the skull looked for all the world like blackened crown.

No sooner had Conrad's mind comprehended the vision before him that he felt the ground sliding beneath him, the sky a blur of silvery streaks, and he found himself standing before the yawning jaws of the entrance. He had not descended the perilously steep sides of the crater, nor walk through the gate of bones to approach - he did not need to glance about to know that the crater was gone, or that the gate of human-sized bones was still sealed tight. His host had grown impatient.

The cathedral before Conrad sat in the center of a dust-gray plain under a leaden sky. Scattered around the courtyard were signs of life long-since fled. Brittle scraps of wooden planks littered the dusty ground, along with the stumps of ancient stones ground down by wind and sand and time. What looked like human bones lay in heaps along the phalange-fence, some as small as children, others larger than a mortal man, some in scattered bits, others in full skeletons. Conrad envisioned some incomprehensibly large being sweeping aside the remains as if clearing debris from an unkempt table with hurried swipes of its enormous hand.

"Come and face me, Final Star," the voice came once more, the grinding rumble replaced by smooth sibilation. The voice sounded pleased, languidly beckoning Conrad into the depths of this unholy temple. He barely had time to comprehend them before the world slid beneath him once more, and he found himself between the massive bone walls of the split-jawed skull. The walls soared to either side of him, the open gullet of the beast shrouded in darkness. The earth beneath him trembled, and the air filled with the sound like stone doors grinding in their tracks. Conrad watched, dumbstruck, as the top row of gigantic spear-fangs descended as the great skull slowly, inexorably closed its mouth shut around him. He was instantly plunged into inky darkness.

[Moridanu]

*The photo frame felt cool and heavy in her hands as her fingers tightened around the shiny gilded edge, her dark eyes widening as she looked towards the front door just in time to see the door knob turning; the reflected light from the lantern dancing off the brass in glints of marigold. The heavy door opened to reveal a monster of a man striding across the threshold, holding a lantern high beside his head, the flickering light giving him the appearance of a Jacko lantern as it lit up his features and sent others into shadow.

A sick grin spread across his twisted features as he uttered “Well now, what have we here?” He foolishly took a step closer, while offering a fake apology at finding her indisposed and raising a pistol to aim at her naked chest. Before she could utter a response however, a much smaller man entered the room carrying a long blade that glimmered in the lantern light, while his unblinking eyes roamed over her bare skin. Shadows clung to his high cheekbones and hollow eyes, pasty skin illuminated in the faint glow of the milky moonlight that filtered through the dusty air. As his face split open in a vile grin of broken brown teeth; he revealed the heavy set man’s name to be Earl as he mistakenly referred to Elyza as a lady who looked ready for a good time.

She baulked and made a production of looking around the empty room as if searching for someone else; wide, blinking eyes sparkling in the reflected light of the lantern that was clutched in Earl’s meaty palm.

“Uh.. boys.. am I the ‘lady’ you’re referring to? Sorry to disappoint you boys, because there aint no lady here… but you are right about one thing. I am soooo ready for a good time.”

Just as the last word left her lips, she threw the heavy photo frame with an expert aim, catching the glass of Earl’s lantern directly in the middle of the globe, sending minute shards of glass showering over the right side of his face. The oil inside the lantern exploded from the force, raining over Earl’s neck, shoulder and arm as the hungry flame escaped its glass prison to lap eagerly over the drenched skin and material of Earl’s shirt. His scream pierced the air as he began to slap at the flames angrily, the increased movement of oxygen only feeding the flames. His slender partner yelled out in shock pushing past Earl and stumbling through the doorway, unable to stop from crashing into the towering inferno that was now his friend, before awkwardly falling to his knees, landing at Earl’s dancing feet.

Earl was ripping at his shirt, desperately pulling at the buttons to tear at the burning material in an attempt to stop it from melting to his flesh, his agonising screams melodic music to Elyza’s ears.

“See boys? Told you I was ready for a good time.” Moving with the pace of a lioness stalking her prey, she crossed the floor soundlessly, her bare feet leaving footprints in the thick dust blanketing the floor boards as she approached Hopper. Still in shock from seeing his partner ablaze, he remained on the floor, alternating his gaze from the dancing Earl beside him and the naked demon now standing before him.

A bloodcurdling scream escaped Earl’s lips as his skin began to bubble and melt, the material of his shirt fusing with his molten skin as the flames moved to what was left of his hair, giving him the appearance of a burning candle.

Elyza laughed and clapped her hands in glee. Her manic gaze found Hopper’s and she squealed ~Look! It’s a candle! Time to make a wish and blow it out!~

Hopper looked from Earl back to Elyza and began to shake his head, his bootclad feet squeaking against the floorboards as his ass tried to scoot away from the scene unfolding before him. Elyza watched, a sick smile twisted upon her lips.

~If you don’t make a wish, your friend here is just burning away for nothing. Hardly seems fair does it?~

Earl emitted another scream before he fell to his knees beside Hopper, the searing pain and shock proving too much as his eyes rolled back in his melted head, the dancing flames atop his brow singing his lashes as his eyelids closed.

~Asleep already? So much for your offer to show me a good time?!~ She kicked the unconscious Earl in the shoulder, taking great delight in the embers that sparked from his smouldering shirt before turning her dark gaze back towards the hapless Hopper.

~Looks like its up to you to show me a good time then… lets dance?~ She reached out for his arm as he scooted back on his ass until his back was against the wall. Tsking at his attempt, Elyza tossed her chestnut curls over one shoulder before reaching for his arm again.

~Surely you’re not going to make me beg?! I said LETS DANCE!~ Her hand reached out to grab his arm, and despite him trying desperately to wrench it from her grasp, her grip was surprisingly strong. She planted her bare feet on the floor and laughed ~I do love it when they play hard to get..~ as she pulled at his arm with all of her strength. Even she was surprised to see how easily the shoulder popped out of its socket and her laughter mixed with Hopper’s scream of pain as she stepped back, his arm still within her grasp, blood oozing from the gaping wound where his shoulder should be.
She waved his arm around the air, smiling down at him as he clutched the bleeding shoulder where his arm had once been. Blood spurted in all directions, raining down on the sleeping Earl to paint his mottled skin in different shades of crimson. Elyza looked at the arm in her hand, complete with the sleeve of the shirt Hopper was still wearing.

~Woops.. sorry. Seems I don’t know my own strength.~

She pantomimed scratching her head with his fingers before turning the arm towards him, his own hand seeming to point at him as he clutched the blood soaked hole where his arm had once been, his screaming fading to choked sobs of agony.

~Oh come now.. I doubt it hurts THAT much! You did promise me a good time remember?~ She turned on her heel, taking his arm with her and tapped his fingers against her chin as in deep in thought.

~Hmm… lets see now. I want to dance, but clearly you don’t… He,.~ she glared at Earl in disgust ~is literally sleeping on the job, so…~ she turned back to face Hopper. ~You’re going to have to do, I’m afraid. But whatever will I do with only one good arm?~ She stalked towards him, hips swaying as she waved his arm in front of her like a witch weaving a spell with a wand.

~I wonder if that other arm will pop off quite as easily as this one?~

Hopper sobbed and shook his head. ~No.. please! Stop! Just stop!~

Elyza scowled. ~Now what would be the fun in that?! You promised me a good time! A gentleman must always keep his promises, ya know?~

Dark eyes gleamed as she studied her quarry, a sadistic smile twisting her lips. Hopper was losing blood quicker than she could blink and she paused with his hand on her hip as she considered her next move. He was using his last hand to hold his shoulder, blood soaking through his fingers and running down his torso causing a crimson flower to spread across his shirt. The flower grew as she watched and her body swayed absently from side to side while she lost herself in the vision of the crimson river finding its way to his thigh, soaking the canvas of his trousers.
The flowing river of blood reminded her of the creek that had run along the back of her family’s farm, flowers of scarlet and ginger kissing the waters edge as she had practiced skipping stones with her father. She could hear his laugh and the patience in his tone as he had waited until the last rays of sunshine had disappeared from the day before calling her home. Home. A tinge of sadness crept into her tortured soul and an involuntary shiver ran up her spine, drawing her senses to return to her current place and time.

Tears threatened to fall, blurring her vision until she blinked rapidly to bring the room around her back into sharpened focus. Blinking again, this time in surprise, she looked down at the scene before her. The man who had once been known as Hopper to his friends, was now nothing but a stumpy torso, devoid of limbs and missing his head. The head in question was sitting on the floor beside Earl’s, which was also detached from the burnt, bloodied stump of the former rider. Both necks were embellished with scarlet necklaces, sticky blood that had oozed onto the dusty floorboards to give the illusion of the heads being stuck in place. The illusion was shattered however when Elyza used her bare toes to kick the ‘Earl head’ squarely in the nose, sending it rolling across the floor with a squelching sound that caused her to giggle in delight. Although the torsos and Hopper’s head were where the two men had once stood upon entry into the farmhouse, their limbs appeared missing until a quick scan of the room revealed that Elyza had been industrious despite her meander down memory lane.

The arms and legs of the hapless strangers were now sequentially placed in perfect precision in the hallway. The first arm she had ripped off Earl was standing tall and proud as the first point in a bloody triangle of scattered limbs. Each bloody stump had fused to the floorboards, resulting in an interesting array of arms and legs. Standing behind and slightly to the right of Earl’s arm was Hopper’s right leg with Earl’s left standing beside it. The third row of the triangle comprised of Earls right leg, Hopper’s left and both of Hopper’s arms. In the centre of the triangle between the second and third row, stood Earl’s left arm. The way that Elyza had positioned poor Hopper’s arms gave the impression that they were waving to each other. A witches cackle bubbled from her lips as she clapped her hands together in delight. Turning on her heel, she left bloody footprints across the floor as she went to pick up Hopper’s melted head.

Cradling it lovingly against her blood splattered bosom, she carried the head back to the hallway and walked up to the point of the triangle where Earl’s hand offered a silent salute. Taking care to step back three even steps, Elyza peered at the limb pins in front of her as she swung Hopper’s head back before releasing it onto the floor before her. The bubbled skin popped and oozed as it rolled bumpily along the floor, the squelching sound of the fresh blood and melted skin merging with the loud smack of skin against bone as Hopper’s head collided with Earl’s arm, knocking it sideways before taking out Hopper’s right leg.

~Only two points?~ she pouted, before stepping over to reinsert the fallen arm and leg back into their proper positions. ~Perhaps I should change balls…~ she murmured before skipping back into the lounge to find Earl’s head. *