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Christmas Short Story Exchange

Wolves Without Teeth

Fandoms: Life is Strange, Life is Strange 2 Characters: Sean Diaz, Lyla Park, Daniel Diaz, Chloe Price, David Madsen (mention), Brody Holloway (mention) Tags: Post-Redemption Ending, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, light angst with happy ending, mentions of depression/antidepressants, reminiscing, ambiguous/open ending, POV heavy, pretty scenery and dogs and ghosts

And I run from wolves breathing heavily at my feet And I run from wolves tearing into me without teeth

♪♫♪♫♪♫

*

Millions of stars lit up the vast, deep indigo canvas of the night sky along the coast of Oregon. It was a quiet, peaceful night, the kind that was made for intimate strolls and heartwarming conversations and marveling at the beauty of the ocean, hand in hand, barefoot on the shore, accompanied by the light April breeze and the soft whispers of the waves. It was made for campfires and laughter, grilled fish and cold beer, and acoustic guitar covers of songs that people don’t listen to enough on Spotify, even though they really should - it was a night made for moments ephemeral and eternal at the same time, a series of overexposed polaroid images in the sand. 

However, for the young man driving under the endless rows of majestic pine trees, the night was but a spectacular backdrop for his hours spent on the road. Slightly more memorable than the day before, and infinitely longer than any other day of the past week he’s spent driving, one hand on the wheel, the other one either stroking the gentle crosswind with a cigarette between his fingers or buried in the thick, brown fur of the adolescent wolfdog snoozing on the passenger’s seat, curled up like a content, well-fed little roll with her favorite blanket between her front paws. 

That night, he was holding onto the wheel with both hands. Eyes fixated on the highway, his anxiety was skyrocketing in his chest, flooding the back of his mind with dark thoughts and his head with an unbearable migraine, building up slowly but steadily, creeping into his skull, even the empty - and otherwise numb - socket of his left eye. Not that he was a stranger to headaches, but unlike all his past encounters with nasty migraines, this time he had no idea what to blame: the cigarettes, the lack of sleep, all the synthetic food he shoved down his throat the past few days, his ridiculous deadline drawing near by the minute… Or perhaps the fact that for the first time in fifteen agonizingly long years, he was back on a road he never thought will see again. 

The only difference was that this time, he was on his own. There was no comforting presence beside him, no hula dancer figurine on top of the dashboard, no excited chatter coming from a kid high on adrenaline on the backseat. It was just him and the shores of Oregon, his sad music and his snoring dog (who wasn’t exactly the chatty kind, which, honestly speaking, never truly bothered him; he adopted her for the very same reason) and this stubborn, intrusive, demanding migraine that seemed to have made a cozy little home for itself in his forehead like it was meant to live out the rest of its life under his skin. And somehow, it managed to grow even stronger when out of the blue, the music was interrupted by the steady, low buzzing of his phone.

All of a sudden, violent waves of frustration crashed down over him as he took a quick glance at the device’s screen. Tightening his grip on the wheel until his nails started digging irritated crescents into the faux leather, he grit his teeth while staring at his phone, its buzzing resonating in his temples as if someone was trying to drill into his brain. The buzzing lasted for a solid two minutes before the screen would finally turn dark again and the pulsating sensation in his temples quieted down a little - only giving him a few moments of calm and quiet, though, as his phone started ringing again the moment he was about to sigh in relief.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”, he grunted loudly in anger, waking the peacefully sleeping wolfdog pup with either his hoarse voice or the annoyed dash of his hand as he reached out for his phone to pick up the incoming call and be over with it as fast as possible. He knew exactly what’s coming for him, and he was in the mood for anything but fighting with his best friend on the phone right now. 

“What the fuck, man?!”, hissed a young woman on the other end of the call with a furious whisper-shout, as soon as he pushed the green button. “Are you being serious with me right now? Where the fuck are you, Sean?”, she hissed, and Sean heard a door slamming shut behind her, most likely the backyard door, to be precise, as she stormed out of the kitchen for a smoke.

“You knew I’ll be busy this weekend”, much to his surprise, he magically managed to keep his voice calm and his words collected when he answered after a few moments of hesitation. “I DMed you and I also texted the group chat yest-”

“Yeah, and I thought you’re just trying to back out of going to Walmart with us!”, his feeble attempt of coming up with explanations was met with an angry snap from the young woman. “And I actually can’t believe that we’re having this conversation? Like I can’t comprehend the fact that for whatever fucked up reason, you are actually ditching your own brother’s birthday weekend”, she scoffed, lighting up a cigarette with two impatient click-clacks of a cheap 7-Eleven lighter. 

“I have a deadline, Lyla, and it seems like you’re the only person who can’t accept that”, answered Sean with a deep, resigned sigh, only trying to resist the sudden urge of smoking for a brief second before he rolled down the window and reached for his cigarette case. “I talked to Daniel about it, alright? He was the first person I called”, he murmured under his nose, shoving a crooked cigarette between his lips. “And to be honest, I still don’t understand why you guys insisted on throwing this huge ass party for him for an entire weekend... Y’all know he prefers his PS4 and pizza over twenty of us being all over him for three days, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was me who’s about to ruin his birthday! Fuck, man, thanks, now I can see that it was me all along”, Lyla let out a burst of dry laughter, more threatening than the sharpest blades in the world. “You are unbelievable, Sean.”

“I’m doing everyone a favor by skipping, y’know”, said Sean, sticking his hand out the window, unleashing the tiny smoke-dragons of his cigarette into the night. “‘Cause let’s be real, we both know that it’s me who’d ruin his birthday” he added with a shrug, making Lyla snort in disbelief.

“I can’t think of a single reason why his favorite person in the world would do that, so please enlighten me with your wisdom, Sean-Wise”, suddenly, her tone softened, bringing a massive lump to Sean’s throat. 

“The last thing he needs right now is his useless, depressed brother”, he answered quietly, unable to resist the suffocating grip of anxiety on his neck. “And thankfully, he understands that his useless, depressed brother needs to submit an unreasonable amount of work ‘til next Wednesday, so… Yeah. We’re both doing each other a favor, to be honest.”

“Sean, I… Useless? Why would y- What do you even… Hollup for a sec” sighed Lyla, slightly frustrated, as a small voice suddenly called for her. “Yes, baby, what’s up?”, she said, words and smile warmer than the morning sun, and Sean couldn’t help but smile too when he heard her switch to Korean the next moment, most likely reaching for her daughter Hannah, and gently pushing a strand of dark, silky hair behind her ear like she always did. 

“Sorry for that, Miss Thing is getting cranky because she only ate five times today”, Lyla returned to the call after a good minute, and Sean could clearly see her roll her eyes as the door shut close behind Hannah. “So where were we…”

“You were about to give me a Ted Talk on self-love because I called myself useless”, said Sean with a faint smile, before carefully flicking the cigarette butt out the window. Lyla didn’t answer immediately, at least not with words - her silence, on the other hand, was heavy with worry, a calm before the storm Sean knew too well. After all, thirty-three years of friendship teaches a thing or two about another person, especially a friendship like theirs was. 

“You know, I had a feeling this is gonna happen”, when Lyla finally broke the silence, she couldn’t conceal the sad, resigned bitterness in her voice. “At least tell me where you are, man…”

“I’m in Oregon… Driving along the coast, actually”, Sean answered, giving his dog an affectionate scratch behind the ear, and making her turn her all-knowing, golden eyes from the night view on him. “Don’t worry, I’m not alone. Chestnut’s here too.”

“Dude, she didn’t even bark when she heard my voice”, said Lyla, with a very obvious and even more dramatic pout on her face. “But wait, what the fuck are you doing there? In Oregon?”, she asked, and this time, it was her confused frown that Sean could see crystal clear as if Lyla was sitting right next to her. 

For a brief moment, he truly wished she was.

“I’m chasing ghosts”, when he spoke eventually, it felt as if there was someone else talking with his mouth, unseen powers forcing the air out of his lungs and his tongue and teeth to form the words that echoed for a seemingly endless moment in the car and inside Sean’s head. 

And before he could even blink, the echo sunk even deeper, into the darkest pits of his scarred, hurt, lonely soul, as he found himself staring at the unmistakable silhouette of Arcadia Bay in the distance after a slight turn in the road.

*

He spent the night at Otter Point, in his car, right next to the very same visitors plaque he broke down at, for the first time since fleeing Seattle on that nightmarish afternoon all those years ago, to a man he just met - a man who changed everything, although fifteen years later, Sean wasn’t sure anymore that it was for the better. He wasn’t sure whether he’d still be alive at all if it wasn’t for Brody and his golden heart that night, but he was certain of one thing: that compared to all the horrible things that happened to him, to them, death would’ve been but a merciful release.

Death didn’t come for them, however, at least not in its form that’s known to most people. Instead of taking them, it decided to befriend the Wolf Brothers and tag along on their journey, from the suburbs of Seattle to the iron gates of the Mexican border - and after that, the lifeless, ashen grey walls of a suffocatingly small prison cell in Washington. It was there that night too, in Sean’s car, a worn, cherry-red station wagon just like Brody’s, and inside his head, too, buried deep under the quiet, unsteady chaos of his thoughts. It was in every breath he took, every pill he swallowed, every minute he spent awake wondering what is he even doing, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could make it go away, that could make death change it’s stubborn mind and to leave Sean Diaz alone, because, throughout the years, it simply grew too fond of him.

And with time, Sean just… Accepted it. He accepted being handpicked by death itself and stopped fighting it because no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, to get rid of it, to pretend that everything was fine, nothing helped; nothing but the acceptance and the handfuls of numbing bitterness he consumed at least two yellow tubes of each month for the past, God knows how many years. Of course, things could’ve been a lot worse, and Sean was fully aware of that - he knew that he was extremely privileged for being able to settle back into society relatively easily after being released from his sentence of nearly two decades spent in one of the country’s biggest federal prisons. 

Frankly speaking, it wasn’t about settling back into society as much as it was about doing something he secretly always dreamed of, even before the story of the Wolf Brothers began on that chilly Friday afternoon, in a completely ordinary, perfectly average October of a past, long-lost life. In fact, if someone told sixteen-year-old Sean that everything that’s about to happen to him will eventually lead to a new life in which he is a comic book artist who gets paid for drawing the weird shit in his head, sixteen-year-old Sean would’ve probably laughed until his stomach hurt and happy tears started rolling down his cheek.

And yet, there he was that morning, on top of a hill above the Oregon coast, moderately enjoying his cheap instant coffee in the back of his station wagon (and after a glance at his peaky-faced reflection in the mirror, extremely judging his lack of self-discipline regarding taking care of his beard) while waiting for his tablet to charge fully so he can proceed with the next strips for the fifth chapter of The Adventures of the Pack. Chestnut was running around in excited circles, chasing grasshoppers and butterflies and occasionally, her tail, not particularly minding either her owner or the breathtaking view of the coast, and along with it, the quiet town of Arcadia Bay. 

At first, he didn’t even think of making a stop at a seemingly insignificant place like Otter Point on his not-so-spontaneous journey - for some much-needed inspiration or for bittersweet reminiscence, he wasn’t entirely sure anymore -, but while going through dozens of maps and routes and painful memories on a sleepless night before his trip, he stumbled upon a picture Daniel sent him for one of his birthdays spent in prison. A picture from Away, to be precise, of a cozy little bonfire and four people with marshmallow sticks in their hands and tipsy smiles on their faces - a picture that kept him up awake for the whole night, with tears stuck halfway in his throat, desperately trying to fight their way through the walls Sean has built around himself. And the moment he saw David in the picture, he decided that after all the phone calls and visits and almost fatherly check-ins from the man throughout the past fifteen years, the least he can do is stopping in David’s hometown for a quick page or two on his way down South. 

“Man, it must be tough being you”, Sean chuckled as he put his empty mug on the small writing desk in the corner of his on-the-go bedroom, looking at Chestnut playing in the dry dirt alongside the road with a wide, amused smile on his face. “Careful, though… I’d rather not break my neck trying to rescue you if you fall down” he added, climbing out of the back of his car with nimble reflexes, the sudden movement answered with excited bark coming from the wolfdog pup. 

“Would you look at that”, said Sean with an impressed little snort, walking up to the fence and bending over to rest his arms on it, eyes roaming the endless, unbelievably blue ocean and the gentle waves washing up against the pale sands of Arcadia Bay’s shores. “Can’t decide if it’s beautiful or the most boring shit I’ve ever seen, to be honest… What d’ya think, huh?”, he raised his eyebrows, peeking down at Chestnut yelping next to him, and giving her a loving scratch behind the ears. “Come, check this out”, he beckoned to the visitors plaque next to them with his chin, patting Chestnut’s side gently as he stepped up to the laminated board, full of colorful images of the local wildlife and the town’s various attractions. 

“Yeah? That’s where you wanna go?”, he laughed, as Chestnut suddenly stood up on her rear legs, front paws propped against the plaque, curious golden eyes fixated on the picture of Arcadia Bay’s imposing lighthouse. “Y’know what, why the fuck not, we got all the time in the world… At least ‘til next Wednesday'' Sean sighed, looking up from the slightly faded photograph to the actual lighthouse in the distance, peeking out from countless majestic pine trees, its bright, white light rotating with a slow and steady speed on the opposite end of the bay on top of a cliff.

There was something strange, something unsettling about the tall, robust tower that Sean couldn’t exactly put his finger on. He found himself staring at the lighthouse as if it held all the secrets, all the answers to all the questions he’s been searching for all his life - he couldn’t move, he couldn’t blink, he couldn’t even catch his breath for what felt like an eternity, even though it was but a mere moment. As if something was calling him, an invisible, eerie force locking his eyes on the lighthouse, Sean just stood there petrified, and if it wasn’t for Chestnut and her eager little woof startling him back to reality, he probably would’ve stayed there like that until sunset.

“Yeah, why the fuck not”, he murmured under his nose, shaking his head like he just woke from a weird dream as he turned away from Arcadia Bay and walked up to his car, trying to ignore the uncanny tingling in the back of his head - and the unmistakable feeling of being watched by a pair of all-seeing, otherworldly eyes.

*

It took surprisingly long to get to the other side of the bay from Otter Point. By the time Sean reached the lighthouse, the sun was high in the spotless blue sky, radiating its warm light so dazzlingly he had to shield his eyes with his hand as he exited the car. He parked the station wagon in a small clearing surrounded by fragrant, sky-high pine trees, at the bottom of a meandrous set of wooden stairs half-eaten by the soil, and began his short hike up to the lighthouse with Chestnut trotting by his side. The forest around them was peaceful and bustling with cheerful and welcoming Spring life; they saw busy bees and chirping birds and dancing butterflies everywhere as they made their way uphill, following the glimmering sunspots on the ground.

“Alright, same rules apply, okay? No running along the edge, it’s rocky down there”, said Sean when they reached the top of the stairs, grabbing Chestnut’s collar the very last minute before the pup could just storm off to explore the uncharted territory. “Stay… Staaay…”, he raised his eyebrows as the pup looked up at him with giant eyes full of excited sparkles, wagging her tail like the clearing in front of her was the last one on Earth to roam.  “Good girl. Run along now, but carefully, please”, he said after a moment or two, as he let go of Chestnut, watching her dart off as a fired arrow with a proud, fatherly smile on his face before following the pup to the clearing.

The lighthouse stood tall on the edge of the cliff, watching over Arcadia Bay like a robust, all-seeing guardian. Seeing the tower up close, Sean felt the same magnetic energy that practically hypnotized him from all the way across the bay, only this time, he felt it ten folds stronger, as he stood there and stared at the lighthouse, tilting his head back as much as he could to take in the breathtaking sight in all its mesmerizing entirety. It felt like he arrived in another dimension where time didn’t work as it did on his own; as if a heavy, velvety curtain fell on the world, closing around the cliff and creating an odd, languid void where the pace of time just wasn’t the same. It was quiet, yes, peaceful, even, but at the same time, the air was strangely disturbed, unsettling and mysterious - and eerily inviting.

After what felt like half a lifetime of staring at the lighthouse, Sean noticed a worn bench on the edge of the cliff. He watched Chestnut sweep across the clearing, very much occupied with chasing something that looked like an azure-blue butterfly at first glance, before walking up to the bench and sitting down on it, turning his gaze towards the magnificent view of the bay below him as he reached for his cigarette case in his pocket. With the first puff of bitter smoke, he closed his eyes, and for a while, he just listened to the waves crashing against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff and the squawking of a few stray seagulls circling around the lantern room, before bringing himself to unzip his backpack and pull out his tablet and sketchbook from the messy depths of it.

He only hesitated for a brief moment before he put the tablet back in his bag, and along with it, his deadlines and professional responsibilities, settling with his trusted sketchbook instead. He preferred drawing on actual paper with an actual pen anyway, and he felt like procrastinating a little before letting his work swallow him in one bite. Flipping through dozens of pages of unfinished drawings until he finally reached a blank page, Sean started sketching Arcadia Bay with strainless ease, his eye constantly moving back and forth between the sketchbook and the view until the chaos of thin, black lines started to come together and he didn’t have to look anymore.

And this is when the time truly stopped around him, as it always did when Sean took the pen. It was just him and his vision of the world under the sun, and of course, Chestnut running around the clearing, her lanky, brown form always somewhere in the corner of his eye. 

“You’re really pressed about this butterfly, aren’t you”, he chuckled as Chestnut ran across his feet relentlessly, making Sean look up from the content little wolf he’s been sketching for a while without even realizing that he started adding it to the drawing. He didn’t even notice anymore, since this was the case with many, if not most of his drawings - as if he was physically incapable of finishing a drawing without wolves in it, or for that matter, drawing for someone who wasn’t his brother. 

“I mean, it’s a pretty fucking stunning butterfly if you ask me”, answered a mischievous voice beside him, completely out of the blue, startling Sean so unexpectedly that he almost fell off the bench.

“De puta madr-!!”, he exclaimed in fright as he turned his head, and the next moment, he found himself staring at a young, slim girl, leaning against the crooked fence on the edge of the cliff. “I mean, ugh  Jesus. Sorry, I didn’t see you there” he added quickly, clearing his throat as he looked the girl up and down, wondering how long has it been since she got there - and most importantly, how in the world didn’t he notice her when she arrived. 

“It’s kinda rare that anyone does, to be honest” shrugged the girl, stepping away from the fence, piercing blue eyes shifting from Sean’s colorless face to the sketchbook in his lap. She was tall and slender, wearing ripped jeans with a leather jacket and a black beanie, electric blue hair framing her narrow, elfish face. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties, maybe, and even though Sean was certain he’s never seen her before, somehow it felt like he’s known the girl for his entire life. “What are you drawing? Can I see?”

“Sure, take a look” he said, scooting over a little so the girl could sit next to her. “It’s a… I don’t even know what, that started off as a landscape sketch” he explained, scratching the inner corner of his empty eye socket and suddenly wishing he put on his eyepatch before coming up to the lighthouse. The girl, however, was way too invested in his sketchbook to even notice that there was something unusual about his appearance, and even if she did, she didn’t seem to be taken aback by it - or at least she didn’t feel the urge to stare, unlike most people Sean has met throughout his life.

“This is really cool, dude” the girl said after a while, looking up at him with a wide, impressed grin before turning her gaze back to Sean’s drawing. “Are you like, an artist or something?”

“Artist is an overstatement but yeah, I draw comics for a living” Sean answered, reaching out for Chestnut when he noticed the pup is running towards him. “This one isn’t for work though. It’s a… Gift. For my brother”, he added, his smile suddenly fading with the words, and not returning even when Chestnut wriggled her way in between his legs and placed her head in his lap, staring up at him with giant puppy eyes. 

“Something gives me the impression that he’s the small one”, the girl chuckled, pointing at the younger wolf on Sean’s drawing, chasing a butterfly on the edge of the cliffside looking over Arcadia Bay, next to his bigger, scruffier, one-eyed brother, relaxing under a pine tree.

“I have no idea what makes you say that” said Sean with a faint smile on his face, gently fondling Chestnut’s head in his lap. “The older I get, the more it feels like it’s the other way around, to be honest”, he sighed quietly, feeling his entire chest harden all of a sudden as he took a glance at his sketchbook between the long nails of the strange girl next to her.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” asked the girl bluntly the next moment, carefully closing Sean’s sketchbook and putting it between them on the bench. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in Arcadia Bay before, and that’s pretty shocking considering that we’re talking about a town of 200 people where nothing ever happens…”

“Yeah, I’m just traveling. Thought I’d drive through town and check out the view from here” Sean answered, and as he pulled out another cigarette from his pocket, he couldn’t help but notice the sudden sparks of longing in the girl’s eyes. “You want one?”

“Not gonna lie, I could kill for a smoke… But no thanks. I… Can’t”, the girl gulped, watching with eager eyes as Sean reluctantly put the cigarette in his mouth. “Oh, no, it’s okay, I don’t mind. The smell’s gonna do the trick” she said, exhaling the smoke of the first huff with a strange, almost euphoric smile as Sean lit his cigarette at last.

“Oh man… You got some superior shit right there” she said, her smile slowly growing into a content, wide grin. “But anyway… As much as Arcadia Bay is the most boring shithole in the whole wide world, I hope your trip was worth it in the end.”

“Sounds like you lived here for a while, huh?”, Sean asked, eyebrows raised, to which the girl let out a sarcastic snort. “Oof. That bad?”

“There are no words to describe just how bad, my dude” the girl answered, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around her long legs pulled up to her chest. “I’ve been stuck here my whole fucking life. Wanted to leave since I was fourteen” she continued, the playful cheer suddenly leaving her voice and leaving behind gloomy shadows on her face. “Should’ve gotten the fuck outta here the first chance I got”, she said sourly, planting her chin between her knees and staring blankly in the distance, to a faraway place Sean couldn’t follow her to - and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to.

“So why didn’t you?”, Sean blurted out before thinking twice, but before he could even think of a way to apologize for possibly having crossed a line, the girl laughed out loud and dry.

“Have a wild guess, dude. ‘Cause of love, of course”, she snorted again, only this time, sarcasm was replaced with something much darker in her tone. “I was just waiting for the right time y’know. Back then, I had no idea that no such thing exists. Not for anything, not for anyone. There is just you and time, and time is nothing but a massive fucking trap, waiting for you to get stuck in it” she said, eyes darker than the coldest nights of winter. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to explode like that.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything”, Sean shook his head, placing his burnt-out cigarette butt under the bench next to the previous one. “I’m just not sure I get what you mean.”

“No worries, I wouldn’t expect you to get it anyway” the girl shrugged, and the next moment, she turned her gaze to Sean, all-seeing blue eyes staring right into his soul. “You know, people hardly ever come to the lighthouse anymore, except when they should be somewhere else. And even if they come, they barely notice me. It’s nice that you did. And that you listened, too. I’m not sure where you’re supposed to be now, but I’m glad you’re here” she smiled, patting Sean’s hand with a surprisingly cold palm briefly, retreating almost immediately as he shuddered next to her.

“Yeah, I’m glad I took a little detour too” he smiled back at the girl before his glance wandered off to his sketchbook lying between them on the bench. “But I think I should get going now. I’d love to stay and chat, but… I’m ridiculously late already”, he added, a concerned frown taking over the upper half of his face, and a bewildered grin the lower, as somehow, at that moment, he realized there’s a chance that perhaps he has given into the nonsense of his own depression slightly more than he should have in the first place. 

“Yeah, you probably are”, said the girl with a playful wink, standing up from the bench and stretching her long arms above her head. “Man, what a spectacular fucking afternoon. I mean, look at the Sun. Such a radiant bitch boss, for real”, she declared lovingly, making Sean laugh out loud for the first time in the past few days, or even weeks, maybe.

“Need a lift?”, Sean asked the girl as they turned their backs on the lighthouse, and started walking towards the staircase leading to the small clearing at the bottom of the cliff. 

“Nah, thanks, but I’m not done here yet”, the girl said, shoving both her hands in the pockets of her skinny jeans. “Got some wandering to do, y’know… Contemplating the beauty of Spring and all” she looked at him with a somewhat shy smile, and Sean decided not to risk crossing any more lines with any more questions. 

“I guess this is where we part ways then” he nodded his head when they reached his station wagon, waiting patiently next to the tourist map of the cliff. “Enjoy contemplating the beauty of Spring, I guess?”, he smiled at the girl, opening the door of the passenger’s seat for Chestnut.

“Yeah, thanks, man. You take care too, okay?” answered the girl, and the next moment, before Sean could say anything, her eyes suddenly widened. “And don’t forget to sketch up a cool portrait of me or something if you got the time, will you?”

“Stop reading my mind, a’ight?” Sean laughed, waving at the girl before sitting in his car, a sudden burst of energy washing over him as the door closed behind him. The urge to drive as fast as he just can was stronger than he’s ever felt it before, but somehow, he managed to control it, closing his eyes and leaning back on his seat for a long, silent moment before reaching for his phone. Swiping away dozens of notifications, he then opened his contacts and pressed call on the first name on top of the list - the only number he’s ever called, really. 

The ringing stopped right after he pressed his phone between his ear and shoulder, and turned the car key under the steering wheel. 

“Hey enano. I’m on my way.”

*

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Hey! Thank you for reading! ❤

This short story is my contribution to a Christmas Short Story Exchange we did with my best friends. (It is also my first ever fanfiction in English!) I was writing for one of my best friends who got me into Life is Strange years ago, so when we pulled each other’s names and I found out I’m writing for her, I immediately knew that I’ll work with the Diaz brothers and Chloe. 

2020 Christmas Short Story Exchange Word count: 5353 | Written December 22nd-27th. I’m on AO3 now! Head over for more fanfictions. ❤

[ipaintwithwords]

Inktober 2020 #2

LIVING QUARTERS APPLICATION FORM

Welcome to campus, Novice! We are thrilled to have you join our academic ranks, and we hope you are enjoying your orientation day thoroughly. 

This application form will help us know more about you and your accommodation needs for your Autumn Term.  Please read the questions carefully before writing your answers, as you will not be able to make changes to your application before the beginning of the Summer Term. Your Head Girl or Boy will go through some of the answers with you before collecting your application form, to ensure you get the best possible dormitory room for your stay. Thank you for your time!

※ Disclaimer: Student Administration takes full responsibility in handling your personal records with the utmost confidentiality. The information disclosed in this document serves administration purposes only, and will not be distributed elsewhere. 

Student Number: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

DORMITORY PREFERENCES

Preferred room type: ☐ Single ☐ 2-bed dorm ☐ 4-bed dorm ☐ 6-bed dorm

☐ Extra Storage

Preferred room placement: ☐ 1st floor ☐ 2nd floor ☐ 3rd floor ☐ 5th floor ☐ Basement

☐ Windows ☐ No Windows 

Preferred sleeping furniture: ☐ Bed, single ☐ Bed, double ☐ Coffin ☐ Hammock ☐ I don’t sleep 

Additional preferences: ☐ Private Bathroom ☐ Public Bathroom ☐ I prefer bathing in natural water ☐ Altar space ☐ Ritual space ☐ Seance space ☐ Cage ☐ Extra coffin

※ Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that sacrifices (both human and non-human) are strictly forbidden in the dormitory. Anyone who engages in sacrifices of any kind within the dormitory walls will be evacuated immediately. Please inquire about our designated sacrificial grounds at the Student Administration Office.

Do you astral project in your sleep? ☐ Yes ☐ No

Please list the languages you speak:

Please list the languages you dream in:

Do you have any pets that will accompany you? ☐ Yes ☐ No

※Disclaimer: Please note that goblins, gremlins and lesser spirits are only allowed in the dormitory if they are currently in a valid familiar contract with you.

Are you currently being haunted? ☐ Yes ☐ No  If you picked “Yes”, please specify: ______________________________________

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Have you cursed anyone in the past 13 days? ☐ Yes ☐ No ☐ I don’t remember If you picked “Yes”, please specify: ______________________________________

List the last three spells you’ve cast: 1. 2. 3.

List the last three cards you’ve pulled: 1. 2. 3.

STUDENT INFORMATION

Name: ______________________________

Date of Birth: _____. __. __.

Place of Birth: ______________________________

Time of Birth: __ : __ ☐ AM ☐ PM ☐ I don’t know my time of birth

If applicable: Date of Death: _____. __. __. 

Place of Grave: ______________________________

Blood Type: ☐ A ☐ B ☐ O ☐ AB ☐ Royal ☐ Wicked ☐ Tainted ☐ I don’t know

Address outside of campus: ___________________________________________________ ☐ I don’t have one

Academic Major (check all applicable):

☐ Anthropology ☐ Archaeology ☐ Architecture ☐ Astrology & Celestial Bodies

☐ Business

☐ Chaos Magic ☐ Changeling Relations ☐ Chemistry ☐ Computer Sciences ☐ Crystal Healing 

☐ Demonology ☐ Divination & Palmistry

☐ Economics ☐ Elemental Magic ☐ Engineering

☐ Fae Magic & Communication ☐ Forestry ☐ Fauna Studies

☐ Gender Studies

☐ Herbology & Potion-making ☐ History (Mortal) ☐ History (Witch) ☐ Hypnosis & Astral Travel

☐ Journalism & Media Communication

☐ Law (Mortal) ☐ Law (Witch) ☐ Linguistics ☐ Literature ☐ Library & Museum Studies

☐ Mathematics

☐ Necromancy ☐ Neopagan Religions

☐ Occult Arts & Crafts ☐ Omens & Tasseography

☐ Psychic Communication ☐ Psychology

☐ Quantum Magic

☐ Runology 

☐ Sacred Geometry ☐ Santeria ☐ Shadow Arts ☐ Sociology ☐ Spirit Communication

What motivated you to begin your academic career at our institution?

What do you wish to achieve during your student years?

What are you willing to give in exchange?

How did you hear about our dormitory? ☐ A friend ☐ Another student ☐ University website ☐ Social media ☐ The gargoyle told me about it

Did you meet anyone on your way to campus this morning? ☐ Yes ☐ No If you picked “Yes”, please describe what they looked like: 

Do you remember your real name? ☐ Yes ☐ No

Thank you for filling out this application form! Please hand over the document to your Head Girl or Boy for the final revision before submitting it to Student Administration. Someone from our team will be in touch with you to discuss the details of your move-in day. We wish you a happy, fruitful and exciting Autumn Term!

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Hey! Thank you for reading! ❤ 

A quick disclaimer: I’ve been meaning to write in this style for a very long time now, after reading amazing questionnaires/surveys like this from lots of amazing writers. This is by no means an original concept of my own.

Inktober 2020 Writing Challenge #2. Character count: 4545 | Written on October 5th. You can find more of my 2020 Inktober works here.

[ipaintwithwords]

Inktober 2020 #1

The Tenth Tail

Nightfall came earlier than usual that day. Under the fiery oranges and deep blues of the autumn sky, the murmuring of the woods was beginning to turn silent. The birds of the canopy tucked their heads under their wings and the small rodents of the ground retreated to their burrows, as the crickets woke and reached for their violins right when the moon emerged from behind the clouds. Their song filled the crisp, earthy air of the forest, a soft, endless twitter of hundreds of tiny legs, peaceful and quiet, almost eerie as nothing else made a sound.

No owls hooted, no leaves rustled, no twigs snapped under the hoof of no lost fawn - nothing but the crickets, serenading the stars in neverending verses. At least that was the only thing the boy could hear, besides the ragged, painful breaths of his own.

He was laying on the ground, one hand full of luscious berries bleeding crimson poison on his fingers, the other one digging into the dirt, trying to hold onto it with all that was left inside him. The golden ocean of fallen leaves was warm around him, like the comforting embrace of a blanket, but somehow he still felt the cold creeping up his spine under his sweat-soaked, tattered clothes, digging its way deep into his bones - spreading everywhere, except for his throat and the bitter, scorching flames of hellfire raging under his tongue. 

It was way past the point where he was scared. He was scared twenty minutes ago when the berries first started burning his mouth, when the world started spinning and vertigo took over and his legs collapsed under him. He wasn’t scared anymore - he was petrified with fear, and he had no idea what to do.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He could only stare at the night sky and blink, but he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, not even for a heartbeat. He couldn’t bring himself to blink, because he was terrified to get lost in the dark, so instead, he stared at the constellations floating right above him, following the playful dance of soft, flickering, yellow lights with his eyes, only to keep himself awake and alive, while he was waiting for a miracle. 

But the longer he waited, the more certain it became that no miracle was going to come his way. 

That it was only a matter of time until he couldn’t even grasp for air anymore, and that everything was in vain. All those months spent planning his great escape, all the troubles he faced along the way, from the moment he made his decision ‘til the day he bid farewell to the pointy iron gates of the orphanage for the last time; all the time he spent walking until his toes bled and his shoes fell apart, chasing a dream he borrowed from someone else… He suffered and fought and pushed himself through all this only to die from a handful of poisonous berries under the trees of an unfamiliar, cold, dark forest in the dead of night.

“Pathetic”, hissed a hateful voice in the depths of the chaos swarming inside his head. “A useless, homeless, pathetic wreck from no man’s land, that is what you are, boy” crackled the voice with a sour, pitiful laugh, and the boy felt his stomach shrink to the size of a pea. The voice of his cruel, gruesome orphanage matron was the last thing he wanted to hear on his deathbed of fallen leaves - but somehow, it was the only thing he could think of, as angry, miserable tears filled his foggy eyes.

If only he weren’t so restless. So desperate to find his way out of this vast forest, so committed to making it there… Wherever that place he always dreamed of reaching one day might be. If only he stayed put, only for one more night… If only he chose to stargaze at the small clearing instead of wandering off at dusk. If only he had some more of the cheese he stole from that old man with the crooked nose from the market a few days back...

If only he weren’t so lost, so tired, and so very, terribly hungry.

Suddenly, the glimmering starlight grew brighter around him, and the thorns in his throat started to wither. As if the Devil himself commanded them, the raging flames retreated behind the gates of hell, and for a magical moment, the pain almost completely disappeared, leaving nothing but lightweight relief in its place. 

Then a firefly brushed his tear-stained cheek, and the boy felt his entire chest harden.

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When the foxes found him, his heart was barely beating.

He was frozen to the marrow, his whole body trembling, poison berries staining his lips dark blue and the cold turning his sunkissed skin pale as porcelain. It was a miracle that he was still breathing. It was a miracle that he was still holding onto life, that his spirit refused to leave him; alone in the dark and in this weary, exhausted, fragile little body in which the boy was born barely ten years ago, in a land far, far away - the body which already ached enough for a lifetime, and yet, was strong enough to keep him alive. 

The boy didn’t even flinch when half a dozen jaws locked around his wrists and ankles, pointy fangs sinking into his cold skin to lift him up, onto the back of the biggest, oldest, wisest fox of the pack. The foxes moved without a sound, graceful and swift like the morning breeze, as they carried the boy across the valley, following wayfarer’s mushrooms and the signs of the fae folk along hidden trails and crystal-clear streams, crawling under moss-covered roots and dashing through bushes with an unrelenting, unstoppable, urgent force. 

After a while, the foxes reached a small, hidden clearing, illuminated by warm light coming from the windows of an old, cozy-looking cottage. Normally, they would’ve stopped at the door and waited until it opened for them, but this time, they didn’t. They rushed inside with the boy, a flood of orange fur filling up the cottage with alerting sounds and demanding sparks of danger - all of which was met with a pair of piercing, amber eyes of a slightly frightened, slightly confused, slightly furious woman, trying to enjoy her dinner in peace.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” snapped the woman with a disapproving frown that was gone the next moment when she spotted the small child amongst the foxes. Her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet, nearly tripping over them as she ran to the foxes, faster than a fired arrow. “Son...? Dear gods of Shangri-La, is that… Is that you, son…?”

“No, he is not” said the fox who carried the boy on his back, looking at the woman with sad, golden eyes. “But he is one of us, Mistress”, he added softly, as the woman wrapped her arms around the child and carefully turned his head towards her - and when she saw the boy’s face, she couldn’t swallow the hoarse, painful sigh crawling up her throat, filling her chest with disappointment, guilt and grief.

“That he is, my dear friend… He’s one of us indeed” she said after a moment of silence, gently pushing the boy’s ruffled hair back from his forehead, letting her eyes roam the sight and her heart thrive in the feeling of holding a child in her arms - a feeling she yearned so desperately for, ever since she was brutally stripped of it years ago, along with a part of her soul that nothing could replace, fix or heal. 

But for the first time since that fateful, nightmarish afternoon, she felt at peace, as she gazed upon the boy, this tiny stranger, someone she knew nothing and everything about at the same time; someone who lived through the same terrors in the same war in the same faraway land as she did, and somehow, years later, found his way to her cottage when she needed him the most. All the walls she built around herself crumbled to dust as she stared at the boy, and she couldn’t help but imagine him in another life, in the arms of another woman - someone who loved him more than anyone else, and who probably gave her own life to protect him. Her heart ached with sorrow as she imagined the mother of the boy, her endless love for this darling little child, the way her face must have lit up whenever she saw him. 

His kind face, his adorable, pointy nose, the long, curly lashes framing his eyes, his chubby cheeks and his pouty lips covered in dark stains…

All the color drained from her face as the realization hit her, and she immediately slid her fingers down the child’s neck, just below his ear. The moment she felt the boy’s slow, weak heartbeat, she picked herself up from the floor and stormed across the cottage, laying the child in her bed. Following the magic surging from a single, hasty wave of her hand, all the curtains shut themselves close, and with the next one, the embers in the fireplace ignited with a cloud of fiery sparks, as she grabbed a stool and sat next to the bed, hunching over the boy.

“Quick, there’s no time to waste, he’s fading!” she said, urging both herself and the foxes gathering around her with curious eyes. “You two, go back and get rid of his tracks before anyone notices” she instructed the foxes, two of whom immediately turned around and stormed out of the cottage. 

“You go to the garden and dig up some beetroot for me... You two, I need you to guard the door”, she continued as she began to unbutton the child’s shirt, ordering a flock of elixir bottles and herb pouches to her side by twisting her fingers in the air. “And you… I need you to stay by my side in case something goes wrong” she looked at the young vixen still waiting at her feet, digging her hand in the thick, coarse fur of the fox and closing her eyes for a long second. 

And when she opened them again, the celestial, ancient magic inside her awakened, pouring its bright, blue light into the world, as the facade of the witch of the woodlands disappeared with nine voluminous, opulent tails covered in golden fur.

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Hey! Thank you for reading! ❤  This little snippet is from the book I’m currently working on. If you guys liked it, I might share some more in the future!

Inktober 2020 Writing Challenge #1. Character count: 9673 | Written on October 4th. You can find more of my 2020 Inktober works here.

[ipaintwithwords]

Hey!

My name is Rosie, and I paint with words. Welcome to my blog!

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, and I decided that it’s about time to share my works with the world. This blog is going to be a collective of my English works; you'll mostly find short stories, drabbles, challenge entries, and some translations of my original works on here. And what a better way to start this journey than in the Season of the Witch? 

I’m kicking off my writing shenanigans with a series of short stories for Inktober 2020 - but of course, I’ll keep updating the blog after the end of this month as well. Updates will be as regular as my time allows, as I’m currently working full-time and unfortunately, can’t afford to spend my whole day writing. 

Thank you for visiting my blog! I hope you’ll like my writing ❤

Keep dreaming & talk soon

- R