realmbearing:

Originally posted by failworldblog

@realmbearing

SISTER. SISTER. SISTER. SISTER. S.I.S.T.E.R.

If you would like a starter let me know. I’m working on some drafts.

suffocationpit:

i suppose i could have dessert since i had dinner with my Hillbilly son

overchargcd:

❝ ....excuse me? Excuse ME? Perhaps I need to start having some kind of orientation for the new ones, because that is NOT how you talk to the being RESPONSIBLE for your continued exsitence, DOCTOR. THANK YOU! ❞

@adrenalinehearted

IN THE QUIET OF THE ESTATE, SHE SITS IN SILENCE. The killer is not stalking the grounds, the survivors are not scurrying from generator to generator trying to get out. It is empty, hollow, even peaceful. The fog is light, the stars shine, and the moon is a waxing smile. The crows barely stir at the slightest movement. Their master is not hunting, not seeking.

She sits with Her back against the hand-laid stone wall of the small enclosure, and She waits for THE GIRL to come forward. She laid out enough clues for Meg to find her way here, between the lack of pallets and boxes, and the path lit by sickly fireflies.

Her inhuman eyes look up, reflecting red from within the iris, when She sees her. In Her arms, a twisted bundle, damned shape that is not meant to exist. It does not breathe because it does not live. ❝ Where is your G̻̏Ļ̚Ȯ̧Ǎ̞T̟̓Ǐ͚Ṇ͊G͈͋ now, sweetheart? ❞

She rises to Her feet with the bundle. It will be the last She ever tries-- in the culling of the spring equinox She’d hoped, against all foolish reason-- this would be the one to live. Meg got away, wounded Evan severely, and the PUNISHMENT had been enacted. Taking Deliah’s form was easy, and tormenting Meg even easier... for all of Her strength, She thought it wouldn’t be so taxing to do so. She didn’t think it would cost Her this child. But it had.

❝ Tell me now, with no guises hiding my face, hiding what I am from you, ❞ She closes the gap slowly with bare, blackened feet, the air crackling around Her.  ❝   Belittle my work, run around and chide my pawns for their parts to play. Tell me that this is a worthy r̛̰e̞͝w͈̿a͇̒ṟ̐d̤́ for your I̖͂ŇS̘͌Ǫ̑L̳̿E̘͒N̈́C̯̀E̛͔. ❞

With a single gesture She drops the little CORPSE into Meg’s arms, lets her hold the mangled flesh that was meant to be Her child. Wrapped in a black blanket deceptively soft is a mass of flesh. Were Meg to pull the cloth back, the tragic shape within would hold a mix of human and arachnid features. An infant’s face, with button nose and pouty lips, but further down, baby soft skin is replaced by blackened flesh and sharp legs curled in on themselves like a DEAD SPIDER on the floorboards-- because that is what this poor creature is. DEAD.