hannachuuu

[hannachuuu]

Preachers Daughter

for my one and only ethel cain girlies

𝔗𝔥𝔢 Village had always been my whole world, a small place shrouded in gloom and silence, tucked deep within the forests of eastern europe.

The heavy Irongates enclosing this safehaven i have called my home all my life had always felt like a barrier of protection, the chilling bedtime stories still haunting me to this day, even though i have outgrown my naive childlike-self, at least i believe so.

We´ve been warned, preached to, that one shall never cross the barrier that keeps us safe within, yet over time i started to notice that even iron rots, making me feel anxious. it had made me wonder wether this barricade, this shield, would hold up for the sake of our lifes, haunted by the thoughts by what awaits us beyond what i know.

My dad, the preacher, would take me down to the edge in the early morning hours, where the red beams of the new born sun would reflect off the dark metal, an image that would follow me into my dreams, good and bad ones. We would bless the rusted material, but with each time it seemed it would wither away more.

I tightend my grip around the small ourn, a family heirloom that has been passed down multiple generations already, cotaining freshly blessed water. A routine had established with tasks that i needed to fulfill with each year that i had gotten older, preparing me for the duties when i would find a husband, bear a child.

The cold morning air bit my cheeks, and the hem of my once white dress dragged along the dirt of the muddy path, picking up every fleck of flith that was stuck between the old cobblestones. Today something felt different, my heart was restless. In the distance the sound of the heavy church bells were echoing throught the dark forest, creating a haunting tune while mixing with the whispers of the wind.

My Nan would tell me stories when my father was away in church, busy preaching the eternal one. She would tell about the forest and the origins of us, from a land far, far away. Eventhough she was considered the villages mad old lady, i had loved to listen to her stories, making me excitedly jump each time she´d sit down in that old rocking chair on the poarch.

I remeber the last time i had talked to her until the old age got to her first, the allmighty flame engulfing her welcomingly. Eternal life was waiting for her blessed soul, in a form, different from her physical one. For the first time since i could think, her wrinkly face was scrunched together in a serious expression.

She told me about a prophecy she had dreamed about, including me and the future of our commune, written long before i had been born. Standing on the edge of the world i was crossing a path towards something my Nan wasnt able to identify, but judging by her void eyes, it seemed to have scared her deep within her old bones.

Her trembling hands had wrapped around my chubby face, her dark orbs locking with my own like she was studying my soul.

´´Your light will burn brigther than anyone elses my dear, but it will burn fast´´, she managed to choke out, ´´You will not see the world you create, but it will be a better one because of you...´´

´´The eternal flame doesnt just burn to punish, its burns to guide, to purify, to make way for something new. That´s what you are. A beacon to lead us into the unkown, our flame.´´

shedding a couple tears while embracing me tightly i had already felt her spirit leaving me behind, yet something had attched itself to my heart back then, keeping me safe and guiding me whenever i was lost on my path of believing.

When reaching the edge of the looming forest i felt a chill run down my spine, making me glance around nervously. The forest clinging to my dress while its skeleton like branches released me of their tight hold, nevertheless the heavy weight on my chest hadnt lifted.

I froze when i heard it -a low groan, faint but unmistakable. At first i had thought my imagination had gotten the better of me on this already strange day, but then i saw him.

Just beyond the Irongates, slumped against a tree, was a man. He looked strange, wearing clothes i had never seen before, it reminded me of uniforms i had seen in some of my schoolbooks. His attire however, looked everything but new. Dirty, torn and stained with blood, and his leg- twisted horribly into an unnatrual position- leaking crimson into the leaf covered soil.

I stood there, paralyzed, the wind gushing around me, as if an invisible force was pushing me towards him. Outsiders were forbidden, their presence a violation of everything id been taught. My fathers supercilious voice rang in my head, a sharp rebuke for even looking at a stranger. But the man groaned again, his head lolling to the side, and something deep within me shifted. He wasnt a threat. He was dying.

Clutching the cold Iron of the gate, staining my hands with the rust of the dirty metal, my heart hammering. If i helped him, id be breaking the communes most sacred law. If i left him, id be no better than the wickedness we claimed to shun. Taking a shaky breath, whispering my myself, ´´..surely the eternal flame wouldnt want me to let him suffer..´´, after all life was one of the most valuable sections in our existence.

Before i could think twice, i unlatched the gate and stepped into the forbidden woods. The air beyond felt colder, heavier, as though the forest itself was watching me. I crouched beside the wounded man, my hands trembling with fear. His eyes fluttered open for a split second, glazed with pain, and he muttered something i couldnt understand.

´´Its alright´´, i cooed softly, though wasnt sure it was, ´´ill help you´´.

Instincts took me over as i pressed my hands on his wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The weigth of what id done settled over me, the red crimson staining my delicate hands.

His voice rang in my ears, filled with so much agony and everything else seemed to fade into the background. Biting my lip hard i tried to keep myself from crying out as the blood gushed onto my white dress, staining it vermillion.

And when i decided to rip my dress apart in order to save him, it felt as if i ripped myself into two different pieces. I couldnt just leave him behind, everything in my being was fighting against that very thought.

So i crossed the line; I had let him in.

The wounded man wearing a mask symbolizing the very thing i was trying to save him from. His warm blood was seeping into my clothes, staining my skin red, marking me with the shame i had put over my family.

There was no turning back now, my familys urn left behind, dropped into the dirty soil by the rusted gate,squeaking angirly in the storm that was brewing in the dark summer sky.

[hannachuuu]

Ghost in your school

someone talk to be about this please, its been stuck ever since my brain created this idea and i just need to share this with likeminded people.

-The scenario of Task Force 141 coming to your uni complex to teach you and your fellow students some self defense.

-As they strut into class, fully geared you put two and two together that this was most likely a cover up for something else going on behind the scenes.

-You were smart and confident, the way you looked price into the eyes keeping a straight face questioning that ´self defence´ in front of the whole class, earning a couple laughters from the task force and a hidden smirk from a certain masked man.

-How he was intruigued by you once you waited outside in the parking lot for them, having brought coffee from the way too expensive place down the street.

-How you couldnt help yourself but try and figure out what was going on and wether you should be concerend. Nothing ever happend in the small town you were living.

-The first self defense class and how you would be repeatedly slammed into a training mat by no one else but ghost himself, making you achy and sore for the next few days. The sight of his bulky arms and broad chest always made up for that, of course.

-He would notice how you would sneak away after classes, down to the bleachers by the footballfield, just to have a quick smoke.

-How he would follow after you, making you expect for him to scold you, leaving you speechles after snatching the cigarette out of your mouth, smoking it himself while mumbling that smoking is bad for you.

-That resulting in regular smoking sessions of you two.

-The bickering between the two of you after that incident, keeping a low profile in school, yet somehow you always seemed to catch his eyes across the room or even the hall.

-How every time you spoke to him you would try to figure out more and more about what was going on, making you chew your pencil in class instead of listening, while adding small puzzle pieces together.

-The way you were laying in your cushioned bed at home, cozy ready to be reading a book, only for it to be sitting on your chest while all your thoughts were suddenly revolving around him.

-The way as the week progressed your Attire would change from a rather preppy attire to more carefully thought out Outfits, only to pique his interest more.

-The way you changed from your vanilla perfume to a dark musky cherry one, once he mentioned how he likes cherries a lot, him immeditely noticing the next day.

-How he would go back to base with his dinners prepped by you after a couple weeks, his fellow commerades teasing him about it. Yet they were the most delicious meals he has had in ages.

-How after a couple weeks his usual grim morning demeanor would change into a relaxed almost anticipating one, you not missing a single day of waiting by the parking lot with coffee.