hitting the town [mww] day 1

The scarlet stain stuck to the edges of your fingers sings a song of sorrowful memories among your steps. A memoir of melancholy to the Mother who's hand you held and who's burbling blood you would often wipe away from the creases of her lips. It left a similar stain, one which water could never quite erase. You find it odd to be brought back to such a time as you explore the expanses of a new world. Will the portraits painted by the pain of your past continue to crawl through the crevices of your thoughts? Or will you perhaps be able to truly lean into this life you have chosen to create? You suppose, as leaves crackle beneath your falling feet, that as the old saying goes, only time will tell.

You do feel freer though, the weight of world you once carried seemingly shattered. Although the memories flutter like feathers occasionally into view, they are brief and blown away swiftly by the breath of excitement. It's exhilarating energy makes its home within your very molecules, a fire once tempered revived without limitation. You find beauty in the broken branches of the trees and existence in the knowledge of your place within this world. How many shall you see slaughtered along your discovery of life? Will any belong to the steps which now surround you with names you know well?

Possibly, but for now there is more fun to be had.

As the broken brambles of the fall forest seem to shade into the distance, another tawdry tale emerges from the horizon. Buildings barred against the embrace of winter stand silently home to phantoms. You know their appearance of abandonment far too well. Your own castle which you've now left to crumble could have been a sibling to these structures of nothingness. No lights to tell the tale of life, only shadows to sway in the symphony of silence. Maybe that's why you actually feel yourself comforted by the quiet. Maybe that's why from beneath your hood your eyes flicker with the faint flames of familiarity.

Aside from agreeing with Reye's assessment, your attention angles to the snow stretched thinly across the earth. You crouch closer to the shape of a shoe just barely visible among the sleet. Your eyes follow the frames of empty glass which seem to stare back with equal inquisitiveness. This place may have been manipulated by the Makers of this world to seem empty, but there are now other inhabitants of this town aside from you and your allies. You rise from the floor with a hand on the hilt of your blade and a tone sewn with more seriousness than you normally utilize.

"Careful, we aren't the first ones to find this place. These shoe prints have been here for a bit, but they're still fresh enough to show the slightest mark."

Only after securing a space you're sure seems empty of other occupants, do you allow your edge to soften slightly. At least now among walls, whether plagued by the spectral traces of fallen figures or not, you feel better prepared to defend yourself if necessary. After all, it's only the beginning, the genesis of this new world. You want to feel the emotions it has to deliver. You want to watch what story you can become a part of, what new definition you can define for yourself. These things aren't possible if you perish already.

Your focus is pulled to Reyes and the creaks creeping out from the boards of the building. You shrug and smirk, such your instinctive reaction now.

"Just means if we have any visitors we'll know about it. Plus, it makes for a great scary story atmosphere."

You lift your lantern up for a moment to create the shadow of a werewolf with your hands against one of the walls. You laugh and end your little show. As you all settle in you can feel your nerves calming. For now it seems as though it's just the four of you and a haunted house. It really is like you're right back at home. Part of you expects your Aunt to come stomping through the door, only this time if she does you'll run a sword through her skull.

As the night begins to approach and you've found several items worth acquiring within the building, you offer up again a scene of fright. Anything to break the silence for another second.

"Scariest thing I ever saw was my Uncle trying to kill my cousin. He thought it was some kind of mercy. In the end, he was shot by Peace Keepers."

The words of your wilted life come out monotonous and nihilistic. They're just facts now, the trauma reduced to death like all other things with time. As you lean your head back against the wall behind you, your regular smirk returns.

"How about you all? As long as we're playing haunted house. What's the scariest shit you've seen?"