PPC Halloween Co-Write: Black Wine
Nov. 1st, 2011 11:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
astra_auroraAuthor's Note: The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia. Agent Grace is mine. The story she tells was made up by me. 'Black Wine' was written, produced and performed by Angelspit.
----
Grace glanced around to make sure everyone was listening and began.
“Many years ago, in a land far away, there ruled a vicious, ruthless warlord. He was a man of wealth and taste, or so he liked to appear- but despite the façade, his true personality was soon known to all the people of the land as rumours about him spread. Soon he was so feared that none dared cross him for fear of the vengeance he would wreak, for his reach was long, his eye sharp and his soul blacker than coal. But as all the world knows, there is one thing no mortal can strike against: a ghost. And while ghosts can affect the material world, none can affect a ghost, and so we leave offerings to appease them. But the warlord would heed no warnings, and laughed at the idea of angry ghosts, and even though his advisers warned him, he threw away the protective charms on his rooms and scratched away the painted signs. He announced in a loud voice that as the most powerful man in the world, no ghost could touch him.
That night, the warlord slept perfectly well, until he awoke, feeling too cold. Standing in front of his bed was a maiden so beautiful he froze at the sight of her. Her hair was black as death, her lips as red as blood, and her skin was as pale as bone. She stared at him with eyes the colour of ice as he gasped, struck dumb. Several seconds later, she turned and glided away, out the open door, and while he ran after her, he could not find her.
The warlord tossed and turned all night, haunted by the beauty of the maiden, and by her face, which seemed familiar, though he could not place it. In the morning, he described the maiden to his advisers, but none of them could place her.
That night, he woke again and saw her. She smiled at him, and he was so smitten he begged her to tell him who she was, infatuation clouding his brain. She only smiled and left again.
The next day, after he reported this to his advisers, they became seriously worried and begged him to put the protective charms back, but he refused hotly and sent them away. He would not have a guard in his chamber, and insisted that there was no danger.
On the third night, he awaited her return breathlessly, and she did duly appear to him.
“I can stand this no longer,” he cried to her. “Who are you, who blesses me each night with your presence? Why have you come here?”
She spoke, and her voice was the voice of angels. “Come with me, and I will explain to you.”
He rose and walked with her. Though the halls were full of guards, none saw them, and they left the city unimpeded.
They walked away from the road, into the dark forest that surrounded the city, and finally emerged in a large clearing.
She stopped in the exact centre of it and turned to him.
“You asked me who I am and what I want,” she said, voice as cold as the grave. “And now I will tell you. My name is Nex, and I am the princess of Andato- or I was, before my death. It was you who had my land destroyed, the people hunted down and killed, and it was you who had me killed by your soldiers as you watched and laughed. It was your pride that led you here, and I will have my revenge.”
In that instant, the warlord’s infatuation vanished, and he remembered her- the beauty in her features, the glee had taken at her death. He turned, intending to flee, but what he saw made him freeze.
Thousands of ghosts stood around the clearing in a circle, staring at him in silence.
“And this is only a few,” Nex called. “Some slight portion of the millions you had slaughtered. Each and every one of us will have our revenge upon you, and you will never live to see another day.”
In perfect step, the ghosts advanced on the defenceless warlord, until he could no longer be seen, and Nex laughed to see his fear.
His screams rent the air for days.
The search for him lasted a week until one of the searchers came across the clearing in the woods. He was found wandering near the road hours later in a state of shock, and never fully recovered- but he did manage to explain what he saw: the body of the warlord lying upon the ground, as hundreds of ghosts avenged themselves on his writhing ghost.
From that day on, no one scorned the value of the protection charms which every person wears, and no one ever walked into the forest, lest they discover the clearing where it is said the victims of the warlord avenge their murders even to this very day.”
Grace swallowed, inhaled deeply and grinned. “Well, that was fun.” She looked around for the next person and handed over the torch. “OK, your turn.”
----
Grace glanced around to make sure everyone was listening and began.
“Many years ago, in a land far away, there ruled a vicious, ruthless warlord. He was a man of wealth and taste, or so he liked to appear- but despite the façade, his true personality was soon known to all the people of the land as rumours about him spread. Soon he was so feared that none dared cross him for fear of the vengeance he would wreak, for his reach was long, his eye sharp and his soul blacker than coal. But as all the world knows, there is one thing no mortal can strike against: a ghost. And while ghosts can affect the material world, none can affect a ghost, and so we leave offerings to appease them. But the warlord would heed no warnings, and laughed at the idea of angry ghosts, and even though his advisers warned him, he threw away the protective charms on his rooms and scratched away the painted signs. He announced in a loud voice that as the most powerful man in the world, no ghost could touch him.
That night, the warlord slept perfectly well, until he awoke, feeling too cold. Standing in front of his bed was a maiden so beautiful he froze at the sight of her. Her hair was black as death, her lips as red as blood, and her skin was as pale as bone. She stared at him with eyes the colour of ice as he gasped, struck dumb. Several seconds later, she turned and glided away, out the open door, and while he ran after her, he could not find her.
The warlord tossed and turned all night, haunted by the beauty of the maiden, and by her face, which seemed familiar, though he could not place it. In the morning, he described the maiden to his advisers, but none of them could place her.
That night, he woke again and saw her. She smiled at him, and he was so smitten he begged her to tell him who she was, infatuation clouding his brain. She only smiled and left again.
The next day, after he reported this to his advisers, they became seriously worried and begged him to put the protective charms back, but he refused hotly and sent them away. He would not have a guard in his chamber, and insisted that there was no danger.
On the third night, he awaited her return breathlessly, and she did duly appear to him.
“I can stand this no longer,” he cried to her. “Who are you, who blesses me each night with your presence? Why have you come here?”
She spoke, and her voice was the voice of angels. “Come with me, and I will explain to you.”
He rose and walked with her. Though the halls were full of guards, none saw them, and they left the city unimpeded.
They walked away from the road, into the dark forest that surrounded the city, and finally emerged in a large clearing.
She stopped in the exact centre of it and turned to him.
“You asked me who I am and what I want,” she said, voice as cold as the grave. “And now I will tell you. My name is Nex, and I am the princess of Andato- or I was, before my death. It was you who had my land destroyed, the people hunted down and killed, and it was you who had me killed by your soldiers as you watched and laughed. It was your pride that led you here, and I will have my revenge.”
In that instant, the warlord’s infatuation vanished, and he remembered her- the beauty in her features, the glee had taken at her death. He turned, intending to flee, but what he saw made him freeze.
Thousands of ghosts stood around the clearing in a circle, staring at him in silence.
“And this is only a few,” Nex called. “Some slight portion of the millions you had slaughtered. Each and every one of us will have our revenge upon you, and you will never live to see another day.”
In perfect step, the ghosts advanced on the defenceless warlord, until he could no longer be seen, and Nex laughed to see his fear.
His screams rent the air for days.
The search for him lasted a week until one of the searchers came across the clearing in the woods. He was found wandering near the road hours later in a state of shock, and never fully recovered- but he did manage to explain what he saw: the body of the warlord lying upon the ground, as hundreds of ghosts avenged themselves on his writhing ghost.
From that day on, no one scorned the value of the protection charms which every person wears, and no one ever walked into the forest, lest they discover the clearing where it is said the victims of the warlord avenge their murders even to this very day.”
Grace swallowed, inhaled deeply and grinned. “Well, that was fun.” She looked around for the next person and handed over the torch. “OK, your turn.”
