The Ghosty ChroniclesOne: Avast, Young Idiots!
As the pirate woman woman pointlessly limped through the air, passing through all manner of physical form, she wheezed out many an "Arg" and "Ahoy" as if that would attract someone to scare the pants off of, but no dice. Despite the fact that the hole in her chest was way too big for this to make sense, that and she was incorporeal, the wind rushing past the gorey hole make a low howling noise, like someone blowing on the top of an empty glass bottle. So she haunted her way through the forest, hole wailing, muttering random pirate slang and old shanties, one of which she seems to have written herself in her copious amounts of free time being dead."O'er an' O'er I says to ye,
Point yer cannon away from me!
Ye fiddle an' faddler,
Twisted, I says ta stop,
Oh, avast, ye daft paddler!
Cannon's 'bout ta pop!
Fate's cursed tobacco,
Fell from igit's pipe,
Fuse's lit, bucko,
Fear my time is ripe!
Boom, the cannon's call,
Whoosh, the cannon's ball,
Cap'n smacks the wall,
Now this lass haunts them all!"
Seeming the victim of either a trecherous or especially terrible young sailor, her warbling tale explained the hole, but not the leg. Perhaps that's in Volume 2: The Prequel. She actually seemed about to start figuring out those lyrics when she finally happened upon a lively lad with a popped polo collar running through the trees. He was whooping and hollering, and if she'd thought he was by herself, she mas mistaken. A few feet behind him was the rest of his frat house boys and their giggly tavern wenches. One of the younger boys was playing the part of pack mule for the large, metal keg on his back. Already pretty inebriated, the rowdy crowd were using this as some sort of test of strength as well as hazing some younger boys into their brood. Perfect!
"AHOY!" she called again, appearing before them with two cutlasses drawn. Her silvery hair and ragged clothing wafted around her as if she were submerged in the ocean, and her once pretty face was sunken in and leathery. Cracked lips spread into a smile as they all stopped short to gape at her. "Would 'at be rum ya 'ave in yer metal barrel thar, matey?"
"I-It's b-b-beer, m-ma'am.." one of them wheezed, drawing her one-eyed glare. Perhaps there was a shanty for that injury as well? Or maybe there was an eye under that patch.
"GARR?!" the sea-wise wraith grumbled. "Ma'am?! I be the cap'n, not some bonny lass draped in lace! An' beer?! The way it tastes and smells, pour it back in the ol' horse! Piss I tells ya!"
"AYE! Tha's better..." simpered the pirate, though this was all just a game. There was no way she'd let any of these sorry S.O.B.s live. First she demanded the beer she'd just insulted. It wasn't as if she could taste it, and even as she partially solidified her body for effect, the pale gold liquid simply slid down her gullet and ran out the large hole in her chest like a broken fountain. Why the group hadn't scattered and run was beyond her. If they had, most of them would have had a higher success rate of survival. From her anyway. Didn't anyone have any survival skills these days? Either way, they all continued to be frozen in place, watching her in glazed-eyed silence. "Ye know, ye all remind me of a certain werthless sailor I used to know..." she mused, observing their slack jaws. "In fact, the one tha' gave me this," the pirate motioned to her missing middle, before releasing a woeful, rage-dripping shriek and proceeding to rope the group together and begin hacking away at them with her blades. She was careful to heed her master's warning, though. All the eyes would be collected into a jar with the lid secured tightly.Two: If Looks Could Kill
Having much quicker luck than her pirate comrade, the little grudge girl was deceptively fast and exceptionally creepy. Her favorite way to initiate her hauntings was by waiting near a path, then moving out from behind a tree a few feet ahead of them. She'd solidify herself, standing there still as death in her pale purple nightgown with her head lowered. Thick curtains of black hair obscured her face as she stood there, inviting anyone with a heart to overcome their instincts to run to instead help out a poor, lost child. Occasionally she'd add a sniffle or sob in for effect if it didn't seem they were the "good person" type, gripping her rag doll tighter at her side. She only did this to men, since those were the focus of all of her ire. Even now, in the cold grip of death, she had no idea why her uncle choked the life out of her in the middle of the night. She'd thought they were friends! He took her toy shopping and fishing all the time before. She'd loved him dearly, so why, why did he sneak into her bedroom that night and steal her? Why did he take her to that shack out in the woods where no one would find her? Why did he wring her neck? Why, why, why?!
If looks could kill. Well, in her case, her looks could
"Oh my! You gave me a scare there, little one," a kindly man startling, nervously laughing as he clutched the camera he'd almost dropped. He looked absolutely rediculous. There were sensors and microphones strapped all over him, even to his floppy hat. This one was about the same age as her uncle. If she'd had eyes, she'd have rolled them. The ghost hunter, paranormal activity weekend warriors were annoying. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that he wasn't a bad guy, but logic and reasoning were not for vengeful ghosts to have. No, even though she knew he was probably someone's daddy, the fact that he could also be some little girl's homicidal uncle was all it took for her to always commit to her afterlife's goal. "Where's your mom and dad, missy? I can help you find them," he continued, his concern for what he thought was a frightened, living child causing him to ignore all biological signs of danger. Amusingly, though, every single one of his ghost sensing appratuses were silent and normal, even though he was within an arm's reach of a truly malicious spirit. He'd found the very thing he sought for thrills, yet had no clue.
He touched her. For a second he felt nothing but cold. It didn't register until she went full ghost and his hand slipped right through her. Reeling slightly from the shock, he inhaled to scream but would never get out a single peep. His eyes widened as she tilted her face up, the curtain of hair parting in the middle and revealing something truly horrifying. Her decaying face was unlike anything capable of being recreated for horror entertainment or even by the human mind in nightmares. It was so, so much worse. His eyes met her empty, black sockets. Only thin bands of flesh held the pieces of skull and muscle together on her face. There's no need to discuss the bug situation or further gorey details, so it can be left that the sight was so devastatingly scary that, like everyone she showed it to, the ghost hunter simply died on the spot. She was just a little girl, so she couldn't fathom the very real responses the body would have to such a thing that would result in death. All she cared about was that he saw what was done to her and he was dead. Reaching down, she plucked out his eyes and placed them in a jar, placing it inside her doll for safe keeping.
Without further pause, she lowered her head and darted back into the woods to find another victim.Three: Swing Low
Eustace was a different kind of ghost amongst the group of five. He wasn't really in this for the revenge against stand-ins for those who had wronged him. No, he'd deserved the fate he got and he was proud of it! Paunchy and older at his time of demise, Eustace had killed a man while robbing a bank over a century ago. Well, that was the crime he'd got caught for, anyway. He'd committed many other heinous crimes, enjoying the no-good scoundrel he was. Some people are just born bad. He never tried to keep his evil deeds a secret, but he didn't want to get caught, neither! The world had been wild and more spaced out in those times, so it was easy to escape and hide without being tracked. If only he hadn't done that last heist three sheets to the wind. Okay, so he was a little cocky! It was alright. He'd lived a dasterdly, long life. They were pretty fond of hangings back then, so as we swung from the gallows, he gained his rather unnerving eye protrusions and crooked neck, but that didn't stop the flannel, cowboy booted man from whistling and swaggering about like the outlaw he used to be. He'd hoped the next 'life' would be one he could shake up as well, and he got his wish!
He wasn't a particularly good haunter, though. His favorite method was chasing around pretty girls and jumping out from behind trees with a "RAAUGH!" while trying to honk their, well, assets
. His thing was more general, annoying terror and jump scares than killing, though if he actually caught someone...well, he wasn't opposed to it every now and then. Murder was just boring and overdone. It was the fear on their faces and their screams that did it for him. It gave him power. He didn't really even have to do anything! The ripped skin at his neck from the rough old hanging rope, the unnatural angle his neck and head listed to, and his unsocketed eyes were enough to cause most to scream and throw up. It gave him the belly laughs to watch!Four and Five: Owl Poop
Obviously we just saw what spirit #4 and #5 were up to. Poor Percy Dagger.
Back to Your Regular Scheduled Programming
"Mmm~, yessss..." Iris literally hissed, simpering as Aeluri came into view and mentioned his ghastly gazers. "They are a newer fiiind~ The only downssside is this terrible craving for naaachooosss...."
As his feline-esque friend darted behind a tree and her hand passed through him, he let out a ghastly giggle. It tickled his insides, and he couldn't resist floating to rest over her as he humored her request for him to hide. "Fufufu~ you're inssssside me~" Ghost Iris joked, unable to resist. Knowing she'd start swatting, he moved to stand near her and out of sight, and that's when Baird reappeared. The drunken man noticed something was different, but couldn't seem to put his finger on it. Iris found this amusing as well, reaching out to try and pass his intangible hand through somewhere special
and hoping for a little shock, but spirit shenanigans had quickly gotten old. Now that he was using these peepers around his peers, he saw the obvious inadequacies of using them on their own. As someone who loved to be touched with varying degrees of force, being intangible was a buzz killer. On that note, as he remained hidden, he opened up eye sockets on his forehead for the creeper peepers so he could requip his normal lavendar ones in the main slots. Other than having four visible eyes like some sort of alien or demon, he was back to his normal tangible self. Of course, that meant he reached out to hang on Aelu, always the clinger.
Iris had heard the distant whimper ahead in the forest too and now the crashing of foot falls heading toward them. "Oh yay~ My feathery friends are shooing a little mouse my way~" he purred, officially seeming more himself. Inhaling deeply, the slayer scented the fear and sorrow on whoever it was noisily coming their way. Just as a delicious man with half white, half-red hair stumbled past their tree, Iris stuck out a leg and simply tripped him. "We'll take it from here," he commented to the ghost owls on his trail. They seemed uninclined to listen to him until the pale eyes in his forehead flashed, then they obeyed and flapped off to find some other poor souls to eat. "Well, well...Hello there, handsome~" he said to their new toy, a wicked grin spreading over his lips.
[wc: 2126 || 3295/3000 || Exam finally complete!]