nyxmorticia79

[nyxmorticia79]

The Root Witch

The villagers of Blackwood always warned their children not to stray too far into the woods. Stories passed down from generation to generation told of an ancient witch who lived deep in the forest, her name whispered only in the darkest hours of the night: Drusilla, the Root Witch. They said she could control the roots, vines, and trees themselves, snatching those who ventured into her domain.

Vesper had heard the stories before, but to a child, they were just that—stories. He was nine years old, adventurous and full of spirit, often found playing near the edge of the woods with his loyal dog, Rufus. That morning, as the sun filtered through the trees, Vesper chased Rufus through the tall grass. He laughed as the dog bounded ahead, his small legs struggling to keep pace.

"Rufus, come back!" Vesper called out as the dog ran farther into the trees than usual.

His voice echoed, but Rufus didn't return.

A chill wind swept through the trees, rustling the leaves. The air seemed to change, growing colder, more oppressive. Vesper hesitated for a moment, staring into the forest. His grandmother's warnings whispered in his mind. **Don’t go past the birch tree. Never chase anything into the woods.**

But Rufus's barking echoed deeper in the forest. Without a second thought, Vesper sprinted after his dog, disappearing into the shadows of Blackwood.

Hours passed, and there was no sign of Vesper. His father, Vlad, stood on the edge of the woods, his eyes scanning the treeline. Panic clutched at his chest as dusk began to settle. He had gone looking for Vesper himself, but the woods felt strange—alien, even though he had hunted there many times. It was as if something was watching him, something that made the trees seem taller, the shadows longer.

"Vesper!" he called, his voice hoarse from shouting.

Martha, Vesper's grandmother, stood behind him, her face pale, her eyes hollow. She had lived through this before, many years ago when she was just a girl. The weight of that history pressed heavily on her now. She clutched the old iron cross around her neck, her fingers trembling.

"He went too far," she whispered. "She has him now."

Vlad turned to his mother, confusion in his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Martha’s gaze was distant, her voice shaking. "Drusilla. The Root Witch. She's taken him, Vlad. Just like she did to the others."

"You can’t possibly believe that old tale, Mother. Vesper is out there, lost. He’ll come back—he has to." But even as he spoke, doubt gnawed at him. There were too many stories, too many warnings. And there were too many disappearances in Blackwood over the years.

But Martha knew better. She had encountered Drusilla when she was a child, and though she had escaped, the price she paid had never left her. Her fingers unconsciously traced the scars on her arms—old, deep gashes where vines had wrapped around her flesh, trying to pull her down into the earth.

"I’ll go with you," Martha said, her voice firm now. "I know where she hides."

Vlad didn't protest. They had no other choice. As the last light of day faded, they entered the woods, carrying only a lantern and an old iron dagger Martha had kept hidden away for decades.

The deeper they went into the forest, the stranger it became. The trees twisted unnaturally, their roots bulging out of the ground like veins. Shadows danced between the trunks, and the wind seemed to carry whispers—words they couldn’t understand.

After what felt like hours, they reached a small clearing, and in the center stood a tree unlike any other. It was ancient, gnarled, and enormous, its roots crawling out from beneath the earth like the tentacles of a great beast. Hanging from its branches were trinkets, bones, and bits of tattered cloth—all tokens left by those who had come seeking the witch before them.

Vlad’s heart pounded as he saw something lying at the base of the tree—Rufus, motionless. Vesper’s dog was covered in vines, his lifeless eyes staring into the void.

Martha gasped, stepping back. "She’s here," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The ground trembled slightly, and the roots began to shift. Slowly, a figure emerged from the shadows of the tree. Drusilla. Her long, dark hair hung in tangled locks, streaked with dirt and moss. Her eyes were black, empty pits, and her skin was pale and twisted, like bark stretched over bone. She smiled, revealing crooked, yellow teeth.

"I was wondering when you would return, Martha," Drusilla hissed, her voice creaking like the rustle of dry leaves. "It’s been so long since I tasted your fear."

Martha stepped forward, brandishing the iron dagger. "Let him go, Drusilla. Take me instead."

Drusilla chuckled, a low, guttural sound that sent chills down Vlad’s spine. "You think you can bargain with me? After all these years, you still don’t understand. The forest feeds on the lost. It’s not just me—it’s the roots, the soil, the very ground you walk on. You escaped once, but your grandson… he is already part of the woods now."

Vlad’s blood ran cold as he realized what she meant. The roots—the roots that snaked through the forest, that seemed alive—were slowly dragging something out from beneath the great tree.

Vesper.

But it wasn’t the boy Vlad knew. Vesper’s body was covered in dirt, his eyes glazed over, his limbs stiff. The vines wrapped around him like tendrils, pulling him toward the tree’s base.

"No!" Vlad screamed, rushing toward his son, but the roots surged up from the ground, wrapping around his legs, pulling him down.

Martha shouted a prayer, thrusting the iron dagger into the ground. The roots recoiled for a moment, as if the iron repelled them. Drusilla sneered, her black eyes narrowing.

"Foolish woman. Do you think that old relic will save you?"

Drusilla raised her hands, and the trees around them seemed to come alive. Vines and roots erupted from the ground, twisting and coiling, reaching for them both. Martha screamed as one wrapped around her arm, dragging her toward the tree.

Vlad, desperate and frantic, crawled toward Vesper. "Vesper! Please, wake up!"

But the boy’s eyes were empty, his face pale. He was no longer the son Vlad knew. The forest had taken him, just as Drusilla had said.

In the chaos, Martha broke free from the vines and hurled the iron dagger at Drusilla. The blade struck her in the chest, and for a moment, the witch faltered, her face contorting in pain.

But then she laughed—a horrible, high-pitched cackle that echoed through the woods. "You cannot kill what is already dead," she whispered.

With a final, powerful surge, the roots engulfed Martha and Vlad, pulling them into the earth, their screams fading as they were swallowed by the forest.

The next morning, Blackwood was quiet. The villagers, knowing better than to search the woods, whispered of the tragedy. They knew what had happened without needing to be told.

The forest had claimed more lives. Vesper, Vlad, and Martha were gone, just like so many before them.

And deep in the woods, the ancient tree stood tall, its roots curling around new bones. A soft wind rustled through the leaves, carrying with it the faint, eerie laugh of the Root Witch, Drusilla, forever guarding her domain, feeding the forest with the souls of the lost.

No one would ever dare enter Blackwood again.

[nyxmorticia79]

The Final Swing

Evelynn sat on the rusty old swing, the chains creaking as she gently swayed back and forth. The sun was setting, casting a strange orange hue over the desolate landscape. This place, once a bustling playground in a town full of life, was now forgotten, swallowed by time and decay. The wooden posts were broken, the ground littered with debris and bones of old structures. The only thing left standing was this lone swing set, haunting and eerie.

She wasn’t alone.

Beside her, seated on the other swing, was a figure dressed in tattered black robes. His skeletal face was hidden under the hood, but the bone-thin hands gripping the chains were unmistakable. Death. The Reaper. He sat with an unsettling stillness, swaying slightly, just as Evelynn did, though he made no sound.

“How much longer?” Evelynn’s voice was soft, resigned.

Death didn’t answer immediately, only tilted his head, as if considering the question. The silence between them was thick, not with tension but with an understanding that words often failed to convey.

“You’ve known this moment would come for a long time,” the Reaper finally said, his voice like the rustling of dead leaves in the wind, dry and cold. "Why ask?"

Evelynn glanced down at her feet, the dirt beneath her shoes dry and cracked. She had known. She had felt it creeping up on her for years now. The shadow of death, always watching from the corners of her life, waiting for the moment when she would grow tired, when she would finally sit on that swing and face him. This wasn’t the first time she had come to this playground, but it was the first time he had appeared.

“I thought it would be different,” Evelynn whispered. “I thought… I’d feel something.”

Death turned his hollow gaze toward her, his empty eye sockets staring into her with a depth that was both terrifying and infinite. “What did you expect? Fear? Regret? Relief?”

She laughed, a hollow, empty sound. “I don’t know. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it. I thought… it would feel more real.”

Death didn’t move, but the presence of his gaze weighed heavily on her. “Reality is not what you think it is, Evelynn. Not anymore.”

Evelynn sighed, gripping the chains of the swing a little tighter. She felt numb. The world around her was fading, the sky turning a strange gray, and the distant memories of her life blurred at the edges. There was a time when she had fought to live, fought for every breath. But now, sitting next to Death, she couldn’t even recall what had been so important.

“It’s not fair, you know?” She looked at him, bitterness creeping into her voice. “Why me? Why now?”

Death didn’t answer for a moment. He simply swayed in the twilight, the wind tugging at his ragged cloak. “Fairness is an illusion. You lived. Now, your time has come to stop living. There’s no more or less to it.”

The wind howled softly, a mournful sound that echoed across the empty playground. Evelynn closed her eyes, letting the breeze tug at her hair, her body. She had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity, and yet, now that it was here, she wasn’t ready. But when had anyone ever been ready?

The Reaper tilted his head, observing her silently. "You’ve carried so much of the world’s weight on your shoulders, yet here, at the end, there’s only silence."

Evelynn’s grip tightened on the chains as she spoke. "And what do I do now? Just… go with you?"

A silence fell between them again, but this time it felt different—heavy, laden with an unspeakable finality. Death slowly turned his head toward the horizon where the last sliver of sunlight bled into the darkening sky.

“Every soul takes a different path after I’ve come,” he said, his voice a low rumble. "Some fight, some flee, but most… accept. They surrender to the inevitable because they see that no matter how they twist or turn, there’s only one ending."

The sky had turned an unnatural shade, a bruised mixture of purples, oranges, and blacks. It was almost as though the world itself was dissolving into the night. Evelynn’s heart pounded in her chest, a stark contrast to the calm around her.

But then she realized something: it wasn’t calm at all. The air around them seemed to buzz, a low hum she hadn’t noticed before. Shadows in the corners of the broken playground twitched and writhed as if something was watching from the darkness.

Evelynn turned her gaze toward the horizon. There were shapes there, shifting and moving, but not in any human way. Forms that slithered and twitched, growing larger and more distinct with each passing second. They seemed to be moving toward her.

“What is that?” Her voice wavered as fear finally broke through the numbness.

Death didn’t look. “They come for everyone. Different for each, but always the same in the end.”

A pit opened in Evelynn’s stomach as the things drew closer. Dark tendrils, eyes blinking from malformed faces, mouths that gaped too wide. Panic clawed at her throat.

“Wait,” she whispered. "I don’t—"

Death rose from the swing, his tattered robe swirling like shadows around him. “It’s time.”

“No! No, not yet!” Evelynn’s voice trembled as she leaped off the swing. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready!”

The creatures, the things, were nearly upon her now, their forms shifting and breaking apart, melding together in impossible ways. They moved with a strange fluidity, faster than her own racing heart.

She turned to Death, pleading. “Please… please, I’m not ready.”

Death remained unmoved, his skeletal hand outstretched. “No one ever is.”

Before Evelynn could react, the creatures enveloped her. Cold hands and twisted forms wrapped around her body, pulling her down, down into the blackness. She screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the abyss. The world around her spun, twisted, and then shattered.

For a moment, there was nothing. Just cold, endless darkness.

Then, slowly, she opened her eyes.

She was back on the swing.

The rusty chains creaked as she swayed gently back and forth. The sun was setting again, casting the same eerie orange light over the playground. She glanced to her side. Death was sitting next to her once more, as still as ever.

Her heart sank, her throat dry. "No…"

Death turned his head slowly toward her. "It’s time, Evelynn."

The creatures waited on the horizon, their forms shifting in the distance.

It would never end.

She would swing, sit beside Death, and watch the creatures come for her again. And again. And again.

[nyxmorticia79]

The Seal Of Lilith

Edward wiped the dust from the cover of the old tome as his flashlight flickered in the dim light of the university library’s basement. It had been a late-night dare—something to pass the time after hours. But when Arthur stumbled upon the mysterious book sealed in glass, curiosity outweighed any notion of common sense.

"Guys, look at this," Edward called out, his voice echoing through the narrow, forgotten aisles.

Damien, slouched against a shelf with a bored expression, raised an eyebrow. "Another dusty old book? Wow, Ed, truly groundbreaking."

Arthur and Mateo were a little more intrigued. They circled around the table as Edward carefully opened the tome. The spine cracked ominously, and the scent of decayed paper and centuries-old ink wafted up to meet them.

The title page read, " The Seal of Lilith '' .

"Isn't that the demon goddess from, like, ancient mythology?" Mateo asked, his voice tinged with nervous excitement.

Arthur leaned in closer, his fingers tracing the cryptic sigils etched into the pages. "It looks like some kind of ritual," he muttered, flipping through the weathered leaves. "Summoning spells, wards, protections... it's all in here."

Damien rolled his eyes. "Great, so we’re in a bad horror movie now. This isn't real, you know."

But Edward's eyes gleamed in the dim light. "What if it is? What if there’s something to this?" He turned to the final page where an elaborate diagram of a pentagram, surrounded by symbols they couldn't understand, took up the entirety of the page. At the center was an inscription: **To summon her, the first mother, Lilith, keeper of forbidden knowledge.**

Arthur’s breath hitched. "We have to try this."

Damien groaned, but Edward and Mateo were already gathering candles and marking the floor with chalk. Damien reluctantly joined in, his protests falling on deaf ears. This was their chance to prove something extraordinary, to witness the forbidden, if only for a fleeting moment.

Within an hour, the seal was complete. They gathered around it, each holding a candle, and Edward began to read the incantation. His voice was steady at first, but the further he got, the more the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The words, foreign and guttural, rolled off his tongue with eerie familiarity, as though he had spoken them before in another life.

Suddenly, the flames of their candles flickered violently, casting strange shadows on the walls. The air grew thick, stifling, as if the room itself was breathing.

Edward’s voice trembled as he reached the final word. "Lilith."

For a moment, nothing happened. They exchanged glances, relieved and a bit embarrassed by the anticlimax.

And then the lights went out.

A low, guttural whisper filled the room, a sound that crawled beneath their skin. The darkness was suffocating, and in it, something shifted. Damien fumbled for his phone, but it slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly to the floor.

“Who’s there?” Arthur’s voice cracked as his eyes darted around the room.

A figure stepped out of the shadows—tall, feminine, with eyes like pits of endless night. Her skin shimmered unnaturally in the faint candlelight, her long black hair cascading down her back like a river of oil. The atmosphere thickened with an oppressive energy that pressed on their lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Lilith smiled—a cold, cruel smile that promised nothing but torment.

Mateo backed away, his voice barely a whisper. "What have we done?"

Lilith’s eyes locked on him, and her smile widened. "You’ve awakened me. And now, I will take what is owed."

Before they could react, the room distorted, twisting as though reality itself had warped. The walls bent, and the air was filled with the sound of distant screams. Lilith vanished into the shadows, but her presence lingered—stronger now, malevolent.

Edward staggered backward, clutching his head. "Something’s wrong—she’s in my mind."

Arthur grabbed his arm. "We need to leave! Now!"

But the door had vanished. The room, once so familiar, was now a labyrinth of shifting walls and grotesque shapes. There was no escape.

Damien screamed as the shadows in the corners of the room coiled around him, slithering up his legs, pulling him down. "Help me!"

Edward, Arthur, and Mateo rushed to him, but it was too late. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his body convulsed before going still. When he opened his eyes again, they were black—bottomless voids where his soul had once been.

"She’s in him," Edward whispered in horror.

Damien—or whatever had taken over him—stood, grinning wickedly. "You can’t run from her. She’s already here."

Mateo backed away, panic gripping his throat. "We have to break the seal! Destroy it!"

But Arthur shook his head. "It’s too late. The ritual’s been completed."

As they argued, Edward’s body convulsed. He fell to the floor, writhing as his eyes darkened, his mouth moving in silent screams. Arthur and Mateo watched helplessly as Lilith took him too.

Now it was just Arthur and Mateo, their breaths ragged, their minds fraying. They could feel Lilith's presence tightening around them, like a predator savoring the hunt.

Arthur clutched his head, struggling to maintain his sanity. "There has to be a way out of this."

Mateo, shaking, whispered, "What if we sacrifice one of us? Maybe that’s what she wants."

Arthur’s blood ran cold. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but now that it had, it wouldn’t leave. "No... we can’t."

But as Lilith’s laughter echoed through the room, mocking them, Arthur’s resolve crumbled. He turned to Mateo, eyes wild with fear and desperation. "It’s the only way."

Mateo didn’t have time to react. In a frenzy, Arthur lunged at him, hands around his throat. Mateo struggled, his face twisted in horror and betrayal. "Arthur, don’t!" he choked.

But it was too late. Arthur squeezed harder, eyes wide with terror, until Mateo’s body went limp. He collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

For a moment, the room was still. Arthur, panting and drenched in sweat, looked around. Had it worked?

The shadows shifted, and Lilith stepped forward, her eyes glowing with sadistic amusement. "Foolish boy," she whispered. "There is no escape."

Arthur screamed as Lilith descended upon him. But his scream was cut short as the darkness swallowed him whole.

The room fell silent. The candles flickered and died, leaving nothing but cold emptiness in their wake.

And in the center of the floor, etched into the stone, " The Seal of Lilith " remained—waiting for the next to dare disturb it.

[nyxmorticia79]

The Moonlit Sonata

Morticia sat in the dimly lit room, her fingers hovering over the ivory keys of the grand piano. A thin beam of moonlight filtered through the heavy curtains, illuminating her figure in the otherwise dark, shadowed space. The room felt cold, a chill that wasn't just physical but one that gnawed at her bones, an ancient dread creeping under her skin. The piano had once belonged to her great-grandmother, a relic of the family estate, passed down through generations. Its keys, yellowed with age, still produced a hauntingly beautiful sound, though no one had dared play it in years.

Tonight, Morticia felt compelled to play.

The house had been silent for hours, everyone else either asleep or lost in their own corners of the sprawling mansion. But Morticia couldn’t sleep. Lately, the dreams had been too vivid, too persistent. A woman dressed in a ghostly white gown, much like her own, playing this very piano, with the moonlight casting the same silver-blue glow across her back. Her pale fingers moved across the keys with an unnatural grace, and her face remained hidden, turned toward the music.

The same melody haunted Morticia night after night. The same woman. The same room. And that overwhelming feeling of dread.

It wasn’t long before the dreams spilled into her waking life. Every night, the pull toward the piano became stronger, as if something—or someone—was calling her, beckoning her to play the forgotten tune. She had tried to resist, to shut herself in her room with the covers over her head, but tonight was different. The call was undeniable.

With trembling hands, she pressed down on the first key, the low note echoing in the silence of the room. The sound reverberated off the walls, as though the house itself was listening, waiting. Morticia's fingers began to move, seemingly of their own accord. The melody from her dreams flowed effortlessly, the notes rising and falling in a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign. Each key she touched sent shivers down her spine, as if the piano itself was alive, pulsing beneath her hands.

As the music filled the room, the moonlight seemed to grow brighter, almost unnaturally so, casting the space in an eerie glow. Shadows danced along the walls, though the flickering lamp had been still. Morticia’s heartbeat quickened, her breath shallow, as she realized she was no longer in control. Her fingers were moving faster now, the music turning darker, more dissonant.

The room felt wrong—heavy, as though the air had thickened, making it hard to breathe. And then she heard it: a whisper, soft at first, barely audible over the sound of the piano. But it grew louder, insistent, like someone standing just behind her, their breath brushing against the back of her neck.

"Keep playing."

She froze for a moment, her fingers hovering over the keys, her heart pounding in her chest. But the voice wouldn’t let her stop.

"Play the song."

Against her will, her fingers moved again, faster this time, as if possessed by some unseen force. The melody turned frantic, wild. Morticia felt her body begin to tremble, her legs weak, yet she couldn't stop playing. Tears welled in her eyes, but the music continued, unstoppable.

Suddenly, the sound of another set of hands joined her. She blinked, her vision blurred from fear and confusion, but there was no mistaking it. The notes were no longer coming from her fingers alone. There was someone else, playing beside her.

Morticia turned her head, the movement slow, weighed down by terror. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her. The woman from her dreams, her figure pale and ethereal, seated beside her, dressed in the same ghostly gown. Her hair cascaded down her back like silver threads, catching the moonlight, and her hands—those delicate, cold hands—danced over the keys.

The woman’s face was still turned away, hidden in shadow, but Morticia could feel her presence, an overwhelming darkness that pressed in on her from all sides. The music grew louder, more discordant, echoing through the room like a funeral dirge. It filled her ears, her mind, until she thought she might go mad.

"Who are you?" Morticia whispered, her voice trembling.

The woman didn’t respond, but the music answered. A wave of horror washed over Morticia as the final pieces fell into place. This was no dream. The woman was real. She had always been real. A part of the house, a part of the cursed family legacy. The piano was her prison, and the melody—the song—was the key to keeping her bound.

But Morticia had broken the seal.

The woman’s hands stilled on the keys, and Morticia’s fingers froze. The room fell silent, the air heavy with anticipation. Slowly, painfully, the woman turned her head. Morticia’s breath caught in her throat as their eyes met—cold, hollow eyes that gleamed with malevolent intent. The woman’s lips curled into a smile, but it was not a smile of joy. It was a smile of hunger, of something ancient and evil that had waited too long to be free.

Morticia tried to move, to scream, but her body wouldn’t obey. The woman leaned in close, her breath cold against Morticia’s ear.

"You shouldn’t have played the song," she whispered.

Before Morticia could react, the woman’s hands reached for her, cold fingers closing around her wrists. The room spun, the shadows closing in. She felt her body being pulled, her consciousness slipping away as the piano seemed to swallow her whole.

And then, darkness.

When the morning sun rose, the grand piano sat silent in the drawing room, bathed in a soft golden light. Dust motes danced in the air, and the house was peaceful once more. But if one listened closely, late at night when the moon was full, they might hear it—the faint sound of a piano playing a haunting melody, and a soft voice whispering from the shadows.

Morticia was never seen again.

The house had claimed her.

And the piano… it waited for the next to play the song.

[nyxmorticia79]

The Whispering Shadows

In the small , fog-drenched town of Morrow's End , a place long forgotten by the rest of the world , 19-year-old Evy was always considered different . She had a particular sixth sense , a gift—or perhaps a curse—that allowed her to hear and feel things that others could not. The town, with its cobblestone streets, decaying Victorian homes, and oppressive air of melancholy, had always felt like a shroud of misery wrapped around her fragile mind. She reveled in the darkness, finding comfort in the shadows that others feared, but lately, the shadows had begun to whisper back.

The whispers started as barely audible murmurs, indistinct and elusive, lurking just beyond the edge of her hearing. They called to her at night, just as the moonlight began to cast eerie patterns on her bedroom walls. At first, she thought she was going mad, her already fragile mind crumbling under the weight of her morbid fascinations. But soon, the whispers grew louder, more insistent, and impossible to ignore. They called her name in a chorus of soft, breathy voices, urging her to listen, to understand, to obey.

As the days passed, the whispers led her to the town's forgotten places—the crumbling mausoleum in the overgrown cemetery, the abandoned church with its broken stained glass windows, and finally, the desolate ruins of an ancient manor house on the outskirts of town. The manor, once grand and imposing, was now a hollow shell, its walls scarred by time and darkness. It was here that Evy felt the whispers coalesce into something more than mere voices; they became a presence, something ancient and malevolent, that had been waiting for her.

The town’s history, as Evy soon discovered, was steeped in occult practices and forbidden knowledge. Generations ago, the people of Morrow's End had delved into dark rituals, seeking power and immortality by invoking forces they did not understand. They had summoned something from beyond the veil of reality, something that had devoured their minds and souls, leaving behind only the whispers that haunted the town to this day. The town had never recovered, and the darkness had festered, waiting for someone like Evy to awaken it.

The more Evy uncovered, the more she felt her sanity slipping away. The lines between reality and nightmare blurred, and she could no longer trust her own mind. The whispers were everywhere now, growing louder, filling her with dread and an overwhelming sense of impending doom. They spoke of unspeakable horrors, of ancient rites that must be performed, of sacrifices that must be made to complete what had been started centuries ago.

Desperate to end the torment, Evy followed the whispers one final time, to a hidden chamber beneath the ruins of the manor. The walls were lined with symbols etched in blood, and the air was thick with the stench of decay. In the center of the room stood an altar, slick with a dark, viscous substance that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The whispers rose to a fever pitch, urging her to complete the ritual, to offer herself as the final sacrifice.

But as she approached the altar, something inside her snapped. The whispers weren’t guiding her; they were manipulating her, using her as a pawn in their ancient, malevolent game. She realized, too late, that the voices weren’t leading her to uncover the town’s dark past—they were leading her to become a part of it. The ritual wasn’t about ending the curse; it was about renewing it, binding her soul to the darkness that had consumed Morrow's End.

As Evy stood frozen in terror, the shadows in the room began to move, coalescing into grotesque forms—twisted, faceless creatures that had once been human, now reduced to nothing more than vessels for the malevolent force. They surrounded her, their eyeless faces staring into the depths of her soul. The whispers grew louder, no longer just in her mind but echoing through the chamber, a cacophony of madness that threatened to tear her apart.

With a scream that echoed through the ruins, Evy turned to flee, but the shadows closed in around her, their icy tendrils wrapping around her limbs, dragging her towards the altar. As she struggled, she felt the cold, slimy substance on the altar begin to seep into her skin, burning like acid, yet numbing her to the pain. The whispers became a roar, drowning out her thoughts, her memories, her very sense of self.

In those final moments, Evy understood the true horror of Morrow's End. The whispers weren’t just voices—they were the souls of those who had been sacrificed before her, bound to the darkness, forced to lure others into the same fate. The townsfolk, the rituals, the manor—everything was a lie, a facade to hide the truth: the darkness wasn’t in the town; it was in her. She had been the key all along, the final piece needed to awaken the ancient evil and unleash it upon the world.

As the shadows consumed her, Evy’s mind shattered, her screams merging with the whispers, becoming one with the malevolent force. The chamber fell silent, the only sound the faint, rhythmic pulsing of the darkness that now had a new vessel. The town of Morrow's End remained still, its secrets buried once more, waiting for the next unfortunate soul to awaken the whispers.

But the whispers never truly died; they only grew stronger, more insidious. And as the years passed, the people of Morrow’s End would tell tales of a young woman who vanished into the shadows, her fate unknown. Some said she had gone mad, others that she had simply left town. But on quiet, moonless nights, when the fog rolled in thick and suffocating, some claimed they could still hear her voice, whispering in the dark, calling for someone to listen, to understand, to obey.

[nyxmorticia79]

things to think about for characters

do they have allergies?

what foods will they not touch?

what kinds of music do they like?

how are they around new people?

do they speak in an accent?

have they tried learning a new language?

how many languages do they know?

what is a song that will always make them cry?

how do they cry? heaving? silently? sobbing?

how do they dress? for practicality or fashion?

what is the first thing they notice about a stranger?

what is their humour like?

do they have scars? what caused them?

do they wear jewelry?

are they a frivolous spender or a miser?

do they prefer luxury or practicality?

who would they quote?

what could make them change their mind?

who is the first person they'd call?

how are they around animals? do they have pets?

what is their favourite childhood food?

what is something they've never told anyone?

childhood friends?

what are habits they've picked up from other people?

what are their guilty pleasures?

what is something they're staunchly against?

do they speak a certain way? do they use contractions? popular turns of phrase?

can they fall in love? what does it look like? does it differ between people -- friends vs family?

what would they rather die than do?

what is their biggest mistake? one that they look out to never do again.

[nyxmorticia79]

"only wanna be with you" - ways of subtley showing love

prompt list by @novelbear

being able to lay on them comfortably no matter the position.

feeding them snacks from over your shoulder

playing. with. their. hair.

"text me when you get home."

unconsciously smiling whenever they smile

letting them have a bite of food you're preparing

^ then doing that thing where you're holding your hand under their chin just in case something falls/drips :(((

making a big deal out of any dish they make for you, eating every last bite.

breakfast in bed.

"you look gorgeous. stunning. jaw-dropping. breathtaking. do you see what i'm trying to get at?"

holding hands while walking

when others can tell you're in love (or really care abt one another) just from the way you stare at each other

helping fix/adjust their clothes a little before they leave

sending each other little selfies or pictures throughout the day when they're apart

being able to sit/work in a comfortable silence

napping together

taking their hand and slowly guiding them to the other side of the sidewalk (away from the road)

"have you eaten today?"

massages whenever they seem stressed

that little panicked reach for them (ready to catch them at all costs) if they trip ever so slightly

hugs from behind and gentle kisses on the shoulder >>>

"i've got this, you go rest."

wiping crumbs (or whatever's left of what they may be eating) from the corners of their mouth

random "i love you"s just for the reminder

[nyxmorticia79]

diferent ways to describe the fear of something?

Different Ways to Describe Fear

Symptoms of Fear:

accelerated breathing

accelerated heart rate

goosebumps

sweating

sleep disturbance

butterflies in stomach

dizziness

Body Language Responses to Fear:

hunching shoulders

shrinking away

wide eyes

shaking / trembling

freezing

wrapping arms around themselves

shaking hands

Writing Prompts:

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

She pressed a trembling hand to her chest as if that would do anything to slow her racing heart.

His eyes were crazed, darting around to look at the shadows of the room.

Their limbs felt like jelly, afraid that they would collapse at any moment.

She was utterly frozen. Her body cut all communication with her mind, and no matter how much her brain screamed for her to run she was immobilized in terror.

He had a tight knot forming in his stomach.

They couldn't breathe. They were totally suffocated by fear and it felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on their chest.

Dread clouded her thinking. She walked around like she was in a daze, relying solely on muscle memory to get her down the hallway.

His hands were trembling so badly that he couldn't do anything and his terror made it impossible to focus.

Their throat was dry. No matter how many times they swallowed it did nothing to relieve the uncomfortable feeling.

The salty taste of fear lingered on her lips.

His muscles screamed at him to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He stared forwards hauntingly.

They ran. They ran faster than their legs had ever carried them, adrenaline taking over all of their senses. It felt like they were being chased, but there was no way for them to know for certain. They were too afraid to turn around.

It felt like her heart was about to burst from her ribcage.

[nyxmorticia79]

List of “falling for someone you thought you’d never fall for, but here you are (you absolute fool)” prompts

“Oh, God, what?”

“I don’t even know what to say to this information.”

“…I mean, I can’t say I’m upset about this unexpected development.”

“They’re the one I want? Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, hell no.”

“For fuck’s sake—”

“This is not what I had in mind. Like. At all.”

“…I was flirting for fun.” 

“So I’m just gonna sit here and contemplate the decisions I’ve made in life which have lead me to this point.”

“I think I just played myself.”

“This can not be happening right now.”

“I didn’t even want them like that—” “Well, now you do, so you’re gonna have to take responsibility for that.”

“My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot.”

“I mean, feelings come and go. Surely I don’t have it that bad for them.”

^ “Well…” they say, nervous laughter on the tip of their tongue. “Never mind about that.” 

[nyxmorticia79]

Show, don't tell : Part 1

Directory Writing Masterlist Blog Etiquette Buy me a Ko-Fi?

[ Angry + Frustrated ]

Red face

Tensing up jaw/body

Clenching fists

Gritting teeth

Stomped feet

Rolling eyes

Crossing arms

Kick/Hit something

Eyebrows furl

Face crunches up

Tight lips

Narrow eyes

[ Happy + Excited ]

Laugh/Giggle

Smile from ear to ear

High tone in voice

Smiling/Grinning while talking

Heart Pounding

Clapping

Breathing deeply

Squeal/Scream

Talking fast

Contentedly Sigh

Tilted head

Hand clasped over mouth

[Bored + Tired ]

Pace back and forth

Sigh loudly

Blank face

Play with fingers

Staring off into space

Yawning

Fidgeting around

Leaning head on hands

Rubbing eyes

Droopy eyes

Dark circles under eyes

Complaining

[Sad + Scared]

Trembling lips/body

Tears in eyes

Bite Nails

Curl up/tuck knees to chest

Bite nails

Eyes burn/turn red

Stop breathing OR breathe fast

Lose appetite

Frowning

Darting eyes

Blinking quick or not at all

Pounding heart

© ModifiedUchiha 2023 ★ Feel free to use them for inspiration , but give credit if adding to a list ★

[nyxmorticia79]

-:"You're so cute when you...":-

(Really really love these...1, 3, 4, 5, 8, are fav!!!! TAG ME:))

By @me-writes-prompts

"...scrunch up your nose because you don't like something."

"...roll your eyes while having a smile on your lips."

"...try to focus on one thing with your eyebrows knitted together."

"...kiss me on my forehead while I'm sleeping."

"...get excited at something so much, you start jumping up and down."

"...blush because I complimented you."

"...start babbling without realizing."

"...randomly do your little dance."

“…ruffle your hair when you get frustrated.”

“…pout because I’m not giving you enough attention.”

[nyxmorticia79]

★ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴

˃ ❝Look, I really don’t think this is going to work out with us❞

˃ ❝I guess we’re not meant to be❞

˃ ❝Please don’t cry, I can’t stand to see you upset❞

˃ ❝I think we need a break from each other.❞

˃ ❝I don’t want anything to do with you.❞

˃ ❝We just can’t continue with this.❞

˃ ❝I gave you so many chances and you somehow fucked up every time.❞

˃ ❝I did love you, just not anymore.❞

˃ ❝This isn’t going to work.❞

˃ ❝What happened to forever?❞

˃ ❝This isn’t going anywhere.❞

˃ ❝You can’t just leave me like this…❞

˃ ❝What about our kids?❞

˃ ❝When did you fall out of love with me?❞

˃ ❝You left me when I needed you the most.❞

˃ ❝How are you just okay with this?❞

˃ ❝You are the worst thing that has happened to me.❞

˃ ❝God, stop with the tears already.❞

˃ ❝I tired so hard for this to work.❞

˃ ❝Do you regret being with me?❞

[nyxmorticia79]

enemies to lovers otp prompts plssss! you’re amazing bye

OTP dialogue prompts pt. 35

OOOO YES YES YES!! i've done a few different (more specific) versions but this is kind of general version. This both angst and fluff soooo have fun with it.

"God, I hate you."

"Should we... be doing this?"

"If you weren't such an asshole, you'd be hot."

"Who did this to you?"

"What we did back there, that meant nothing to me." "Same here."

"I tried so hard to hate you. So fucking hard and yet I failed."

"Why the fuck are you so perfect? Do you get how annoying it is that the worst thing about you is that you're perfect?"

"You are everything I hate."

"For the record, I'm only this because I have to."

"Why is your taste such shit?"

"You know nothing about me." "I know enough to love you."

"Touch my shit, you die."

"Are you blushing right now? I just threatened to kill you."

"I'll kill whoever did this to you."

"What we did... that kiss... what did that mean to you?" "Everything."

"I hope you know that a kiss doesn't change anything."

"If you kill me, you lose the only person who's ever loved you."

"I did all of this... everything for you."

"Looking at you makes me want to puke."

"I hope you know that just because I'm blushing right now, it's because it's hot out and not the outfit you're wearing."

"I'd rather die than kiss you."

"They say that love and hatred can co-exist. I didn't believe them until you came into my life."

"You hate me." "No, I don't."

"I can't stand you." "I can't stand you either."

"Did you just ask me on a date?" "No, I said I was going to take you out. Like as in kill you."

"Even though I love you, I know we can never work. It's best if you just leave."

"Goody two shoes." "Asswipe."

"I don't think you understand my love language."

"It's like my father always said. Better to hate and never feel than to open up and be hurt."

"If I tell you the truth, you'll leave."

"Please stay."

"What's in this for me?" "I just need your help." "Okay fine."

"You are the worst person ever." "Says you."

"I never hated you. No one could ever truly hate you."

[nyxmorticia79]

Touch starved / comfort prompts :)

[a/n: if anyone has anyone prompts ideas or wants to see me write for any specific prompts (for any specific characters?) pls don’t hesitate to pop into my asks box :D and if you end up using any of my prompts pls tage me, i would love to read them!]

that big hug in the airport when character A comes home for a holiday. B runs into their arms and squeezes them so tight that A is thinking they might break a rib.

character B feeling character A’s hand on the small of their back while going through a crowd.

character A knows exactly when character B needs cuddles. long day at work? cuddles. didn’t get enough sleep? cuddles.

Character B is away on a trip (either with friends or for work) and Character A is laying awake in their empty bed. the only thing that can get A to sleep each night is a long phone call with their favourite person. telling B about their day calms them down enough for sleep. and they do it all again the next day.

“we don’t have to talk about yet it if you don’t want to. we can just lay here like this, just relax into my arms.” one whispers in the others ear.

Character A is worried about coming off as too clingy and first. Once Character B realised how much A thrives on physical touch, they make sure they set aside enough time each day to just hold them.

If they ever go to bed while in an argument Character B still wraps an arm around Character A, knowing that they won’t sleep without it and to let them know they still love them although they’re arguing.

[follow me on tiktok and instagram @/miakate.writes <3]

[nyxmorticia79]

List of random dialogue prompts 

“I was never a morning person, but then I started waking up to your face and you know… Maybe mornings aren’t that bad, after all.” 

“Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” 

“I fucking hate you.” “No you don’t. Take that back right now.” 

“You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”  

“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” 

“You look stupid as all hell right now.”

“I want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can.” 

“You’ve given me so many reasons to walk away.” “Then why don’t you walk away? It’s not like I’m keeping you hostage here.” “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s because I love you.” 

“…Damn it all to hell, if I don’t get to have you tonight then I’m never going to be able to have you.” 

“Let me call you mine, just for tonight.”

“I think you and I make an amazingly stupid pair.” “I know! Our two brain cells combined together make for quality entertainment and a unique kind of stupidity.” 

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

“Oh God, yes, right there— oh my God, just like that, please don’t stop.” “…Can you stop that? You’re making it sound like we’re in a porno and now I’m highly uncomfortable.” 

“Bet you they don’t make you sound like that, do they?” 

“Fuck, you’re such a wreck, and because of me, too.” 

“Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.” “Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” “I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.” 

“You are driving me insane and I’m this close to losing my shit because of you.”

“Is hating me your only personality trait?”

“Never scare me like that again!” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I have every plan to make you submit to me.”

“I’m not even gonna lie, I’m just so fucking obsessed with you.” 

“That could be us.” “That is us.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you— slow down, you’ll get what you want soon enough.”

“I want you to remember every single second of this.” 

“Bet you they can’t make you feel the way I do.” “Bet’s on.” “Wait, what? That was not my intention—”

“Hm, but I think I like having you spread out like this. Such a gorgeous sight.” 

“Come and get your fix.”

“…You’re an addiction I never want to quit.” 

“I had nothing to live for, but then you came into my life. So thank you.” 

“Why’d you— why’d you do that?” “B-Because I promised you I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 

“I swear if we get caught then I’m actually going to kill you.” 

“You think I wanted this to happen?!”

“Just when I was about to give up…”

“I trusted you with my life.” “Well, I’m sorry but you’re clearly very gullible.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same as I do, then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“You know, maybe you should bet on something else the next time instead of betting on someone’s fucking feelings.” 

“You’re such a dork.” “Yeah, no wonder you’re so in love with me.”

“Does me doing all these things not account for anything?” “I never asked you to do those things for me, though, did I?”

“You nearly foiled our plan, you idiot!”

“I… I think I’m happy.” “You think? So you’re not one hundred percent certain?”

“Who’s laughing now?” “…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.” 

“I’m tired of being on the sidelines.” 

“You actually came back.”

“Christ on a fucking bike, I could kiss you right now.”

“That was a bold move.”

“We’re going to be late, all because you couldn’t stop scrolling through that damn phone of yours while taking your damn sweet time to shit!” 

“Kinda sucks that I can only have you like this.” 

“I fell in love, so hard, and so fast, but a part of me knew it wasn’t going to last.” 

“Your heart’s always on your sleeve.” “Only around you, because you’re the only one who knows me so well. Too well, in fact.”  

[nyxmorticia79]

“Hate/Threatening” Dialogue Prompts

“Lay a finger on me/them and that finger is gone.”

“The very second I don’t need you anymore, you’re good as dead.”

“Spit it out before I force you to talk.”

“It’s a noose.” “Why are you giving me this exactly?” “Figure it out dumbass.”

“My next warning shot’s aimed at your head.”

“If you even dare touch that you’ll wish you were dead.”

“Get me a knife.” “Why?” “So I can stab you with it.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll kill you. I’d rather watch you in pain as you slowly bleed out.”

“God, you piss me off so much.”

“You’ve got the next three seconds before I beat the everliving shit out of you.”

“I wouldn’t just stand there if I were you. I’d run.”

“Move. Now.”

“You’re weak. Let me show you how it’s really done.”

“Don’t try that again.”

“I’ll murder you.”

“Don’t even breath in my direction.”

“Don’t think I won’t break your arm. I will.”

“Amusement to me is watching you suffer.”

[nyxmorticia79]

List of “I’m trying to get over you, not under you” prompts

“You say you want to get over me?” “Yes.” “So why haven’t you?” “Because it’s you. Because whatever you do, I’m gonna come back to you, no matter what. And I’m trying so hard not to do that but… It’s you. It’s just you. You’re the reason why I can’t get over you.” 

“Every time I think I’m finally over you, you come back and ruin everything. Why would you do that? Do you hate me that much?”

“You and your stupid smile… Get that shit away from me.”

“You think I’m still in love with you after all of this shit you decided to put me through? Well… Ha. I guess I am somewhat of an idiot.”

“…When I said I wanted to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you, God damn it.”

“I swear I’m over you, but if you ever do shit like that again, you’re going to set me back to square one.”

“We could… Talk about us.” “The last time I did that, I ended up in your bed. And it didn’t really go well after that. I’d rather that not happen again.” 

^ “So… What were you saying about—” “I’m fucking weak for you, alright?” 

“Can you stop coming back at the most inconvenient of times? Every time I’m done thinking about you, you decide to pop up with your stupid greetings and stupid apologies and— God. I hate it.” 

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. But fooling me thrice? I should just consider moving countries at this point. And I don’t have the expenses for that. So no, I’m not doing this with you again.”