《Grimoire》Broken Twigs pt 2
Advertisement
Cracking branches underfoot, the sound of labored panting, distressed utterances in the dark. The once silent forest now echoed with the chase. Rudolph ran as fast as he could. He tried to find his way back to the capital, but he felt like a needle on a compass that couldn't find north. He had to have been running in circles, but he had to getaway. He had to live. If he could get to a town, get to other people, the wretches would be too fearful to attack him. He had definitive proof now that they lived in this blasted state. He couldn't let them rattle him! He had to get away!
Rudolph took a sharp turn to the left, finding a large branch with his foot. He grabbed the tree next to him for balance. He had to calm his heart. He wouldn’t win if he didn’t have a cool head. He took a deep breath, trying to get a bearing of where he was. As he peered into the darkness, there was movement amongst the trees. Uncertainty and fear swirled inside him again, clouding his judgement. He couldn’t tell if he was really seeing something or if it was his imagination. Either way, he had to run.
He pushed away from the tree, dashing out into the woods again. More and more he saw movement, forms of people in the shadows chasing after him. Laughs, more of those insidious laughs. He couldn’t figure out what they were doing, just chasing him? Blasted unholy creatures! The laughing echoed around the forest, it was impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from or how many there were.
He saw them everywhere now, swarming around him like a pack of hyenas. Ugly, beastly demons! He grabbed his knife from his belt. Maybe if he killed one of them then they’d learn their lessons. He saw that movement out of the corner of his eye. With trained, swift action he lunged towards it.
Suddenly the ground left his feet. He was in the air, floating...no not floating...falling…
Advertisement
He met the ground again, his leg turned underneath him with a sharp snap. Incredible pain coursed through his body as he tumbled down the edge of a bank. He crashed to the ground, crying out as he came to stop in the mud. He heard claps echoing from one side of him to the other. Deliberate claps in an jarring, repeating rhythm.
Forcing himself to his feet he saw them, scattered in front of him, crouching in the clearing, standing by the treeline, sitting on low hanging branches, those twisted, sick smiles splattered across their faces.
That man, that wicked man stepped out from amongst them. A man who had fallen into his deeper base desires and followed the witch. They were few and far between, but there were those men who couldn’t keep their wits about them. Those men whose will became clouded by these cunning women with the promise of something special. That Lord was one of them, a slave to his darker needs.
Rudolph forced himself to up, despite the searing pain in his mangled leg. “You…” he panted, but pain made it harder to think.
“You wanted to find the Coven, didn’t you, Mr. Rudolph Stapher? Well, here we are!” He jeered.
“Oh dear, Mr. Stapher, it seems you’ve been hurt!” He looked to his left. The first woman who had spoken to him as he came out of the water sat on a low hanging tree branch. That fucking minx! She’d be the first one he got his hands on when he made it out of here. “Tch,” he heard an annoyed click. Below the woman stood another, younger girl. At least she’d wiped that filthy smile from her face and looked at him with her true feelings of disgust.
“Brother, it does seem Mr. Stapher has begun thinking some cruel things,” She said with a vicious hatred in her voice. She was surely too young to play the games the others were playing.
“Cruel things? That can’t be right, Sister. You wouldn’t do that, would you Mr. Stapher? After all we were quite enjoying ourselves. It would be a pity to have to end the hunt early for something like this.” Their tones and their words were as different as light and dark. It brought a burning anger to him to hear them speak so casually, so sweetly knowing full well what they were intending. Nothing but mockery.
Advertisement
He wasn’t going to listen anymore. He’d deal with the pain later. For now he needed to go get away, needed to escape. He ran as hard as he could, away from the group. He heard the cackling behind him. Damn Witches!
He ran.
He ran hard until the pain blurred his mind, but finally he found a clearing. The light of twilight fog was heavy, coating the ground in a thick layer of distortion, but he could see a wooden gate. That was it, he’d found help. He limped towards the gate, his vision was creeping inwards, threatening to take his consciousness from him, but by the glory of the great sun Cors he wouldn’t have it!
He pushed open the little wooden garden gate, stumbling past it. The fog was thick, and he was too pained to see anything, but he pushed onward. He’d find a front door eventually.
The fog cleared and he saw it, a country village! Little cottages surrounded by gardens! Blessed by the sun! His heart leapt as he made his way through the garden path of one of the little cottages. He braced himself against the side of the home and veimentally banged on the door. “Please! Is anyone awake please! I am in need of help! I’m injured!” He shouted, banging on the door. “Please!”
His heart rose as the door rattled. A older woman opened the door. “Oh dear!” She gasped, startled. She opened the door wider and he could see what must’ve been her young son toddling towards her. “Madam! I’m so sorry to alarm you and to wake you this early but you have to help me! It’s not safe to stay out here! I’m being chased by Witches! If you let me in I can protect you don’t worry,” He begged desperately. She wasn’t stepping aside, why wasn’t she letting him in. “Ch-chased?” She asked.
“Madam please don’t fe-”
“Oh, Ms. Genevieve.” That voice. That voice of that wicked man! Rudolph looked over his shoulder at his slow approach. From the foggy path they all came. Bold of them! Out in the open now! Lord or not he wouldn’t be able to hide now.
“Madam for the sake of your son-”
“Mr. Edwin, what is going on?”
Did this woman know him? Could she not clearly see who he was? He made no attempts to hide. The black attire, the lace veil, the hat. All of it clearly made him a witch! All of them! A whole coven standing to his back.
“M-madam…” she had to listen to him.
“I’m so sorry Ms. Genevieve. We weren’t expecting him to go through the gate on his own. I apologize for the disturbance, but don’t worry,” that man smiled so sweetly at the woman. “This catch is for the Mistress, so there’s no reason to fret.”
A strong hand found his shoulder. He turned back to the woman, one last hope that she’d see what was happening and help him. “Please,” He begged. Why did she look so uncomfortable!
“If the whole circle is out...is he dangerous?” She asked, but she wasn’t asking him, why was she asking that man!
“Not anymore,” he replied with a smile. The pressure on his shoulder pushed onto his broken leg. He let out as the pain became unbearable. “Go take little Liam back to bed,” He urged the woman. She nodded and closed the door, leaving him abandoned there. “Now, I do believe you’ve disturbed these poor people enough.”
The pain was too much and the blackness took over. He reached for the door, but his body went limp, falling backwards, and his consciousness was gone.
Advertisement
- In Serial227 Chapters
The First Corridor of Old Works
But what is it, really? Old Works. They say, some do anyway, or would, if they still had tongues - it's a dream. That it's a million year old mystery connecting three planets. Some, yet other, anonymous entities, charge that it's a structure, more accurately, an architecture - a quest, even, made from, and through - corridors. Pretty inarguably, for one thing, it's a maze. Even some pronounce, if you can understand those currently vomiting blood, that it's a corporation, and yet others - the brave ones – and dead - say it's... near death. Or that it is. Death. - Death itself. But that dark thing on the horizon, that thing emerging to replace the only system we... know. - Whatever it is it couldn't be the end, of everything, could it? Eminently possible, but - it couldn't be worse? 3 civilisations/3 planets... and Old Works. 4 heroes: The Cyclops seeing out his Eye the reality of that place - and by means of that vision - greasing the many-toothed gears of that great old churning nightmare. The Writer sweating to keep the story alive that supports the great old lying structure. The Fake King who abides among all those tunnels of dreams and lies and dreams and... slaves. And the Hero Dreamt, all those slaves - to maintain that structure's even functioning, have to - at all... they dream him. They literally dream him. But that thing, from whence, who knows, arriving? What kind of sick demonic mind could even - But it can only be psychosis - Or possession. Reducing all of reality to some kind of – what would you call it? A Game? A video... joke? And that half-Cyclops, that beauty – what does she have growing – beneath her supernatural genitals? A game for him? A game/a dream; a – world? Or just Old Works. And this Wound in reality – that our writer near-died putting inside her. What is it anyway? And what reality does it bring with it. This demon or God. Through the corridors; lattices of smoke and shadows and colours; dungeons; and supernatural organs; the labyrinths made from dreams... and flesh. - What happens when they face that Wound – staring the absolute. right. in. them? - Through - What happens to all us... slaves... then? But at the end of the hallway, you see it there, I say you do, that turning - It's only the First Corridor of Old Works. This finished 104,000 word kind of LITRPGy fantasy novel, the First Corridor of Old Works will be released in daily 2000 word chapters, or equivalent [unfailingly at 20:47 GMT] Immediately followed by the Second Corridor of Old Works [161,000 words, edited, ongoing, as of 24/09/21] At first lite on stats these LITRPGy elements will become increasingly - built meticulously upon what precedes - ubiquitous, as we proceed into a world painstakingly built to support these mechanisms. After - minimum - 6 months, this manic daily release schedule will be somewhat relaxed: 5 days a week. - But don't lie to yourself it's not there. That thing watching at the end of the hallway... and where it leads. It's - Of countless, it could only be - The First Corridor of Old Works.
8 192 - In Serial121 Chapters
Soulforged Dungeoneer
In a modern world invaded by System Dungeons, one man's search for sanity and redemption will plunge him into an insane plot connecting Gods, Dungeon Administrators, Fairies, and the dangerous creature at the heart of the invasion. If he can survive it all, he might have a chance to save humankind... but he may not be ready for that responsibility. In a world gone to madness, perhaps only the mad can rise? NOTE: Although this novel is LitRPG in its origins, the numbers were never the focus and have been completely de-emphasized by the end. Includes romance, crass puns, spontaneous musical numbers (including fights set to music), horror, madness, and other nonsense.
8 95 - In Serial34 Chapters
Horizon of War
A foreigner got thrown into a medieval paradise with lush green meadows as far as the eyes can see. War thrust him to lead a band of misfits. The man, Lansius, doesn't come from riches and has no superpower. Suffering from amnesia and yet to make peace with his past life, he vowed to protect his family, but he’s nothing more than a pawn, an expandable henchman to do his master’s biddings. An epiphany comes that there are only two viable choices: Either let the chain of servitude tighten around his family or risk it all to become part of the ruling class even when it means shedding innocent blood. Using only his vague understanding of the art of war, Lansius resolved to fight.
8 231 - In Serial25 Chapters
1000-Hit KO
Tired of the old OP MC trope? Well here's 1000-Hit KO, where the author's mission is to try to nerf Nem to oblivion. How far can be bury Nem before it's too much? I don't know but we're going to find out ;3
8 194 - In Serial21 Chapters
Final Hour
Had you the chance, would you change yourself?The story tells of a boy, name withheld, who came into the world with what seemed like an invisible curse. Through this darkness, he found an escape - Empire. It was the first VRMMO, and his doctors convinced him to try it. This is the tale of a boy who was willing to throw everything that was left away. A victim of the world, a great adventurer, or... something beyond even that?*Warning: This fiction contains BORDERLINE mature themes. Okay, maybe VERY mature themes. But only SOMETIMES.**Note: Don't give me 5 star ratings. I doubt you'd want to anyway, but ratings without any criticism don't help me improve, and thus destroy the purpose for which I write.
8 59 - In Serial23 Chapters
Writing test
So... It has come to my knowledge that I need a proper synopsis to post/save this so here goes a thing: Someone dies, and what comes after seems to be like one of those myths of old where you are brought to the afterlife, except, this particular soul's afterlife doesn't seem like it will be comfortable, will it? WARNING: I am only writing this because I want to see how long I can keep writing from here and I am only posting it in RR because I like the display. I advise you do not start reading it but if you do, know that I PROMISE NOTHING. Pd: I write in the night settings so it may be needed to see.
8 592

