- Messages
- 31
- Character Biography
- Link
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“N-no please, don’t come closer!” Scrabbling away into the corner of the alley, Shiloh could faintly hear the push of long oars through gentle waters. She could hear birds cooing and cawing, people whistling or murmuring. Meanwhile, the frail woman had pressed her clammy palms firmly against the dirty stone of the wall behind her. Covered in rags and dirt, feet and ankles dark in filth, Shiloh knew she stood out too much when she came here. She had hoped if she kept her head low that no one would pay her too much mind.
But this place was wealthy, not like Alliria but even the poorest of the poor here were still richer than Shiloh. They at least weren’t as dirty as she was. There were no slums here, no good place for her to hide and fit in. Old-money. People who lived her didn’t want riffraff like her tarnishing their slice of heaven.
If only she hadn’t tried to drink some of the canal water, perhaps hid in the shadows until night to do so, then she would have been fine. But a gang of young men had caught sight of her, pulling her up by her hair to throw her into this alley.
“You talk funny, where do you come from?” One of them asked, and Shiloh saw the brief glint of a paring knife. Small and sharp, it would be better to cut an apple than to threaten someone. This thought didn’t give her comfort and she backed herself further against the wall, wishing that she could just disappear in the darkness. She said nothing, hoping that her silence would be the correct answer.
“Hey! Answer!” She yelped pathetically as a tall, skinny boy kicked her in her skinny thigh, causing her to slide down and burrowing her face into her knees. She wrapped her arms firmly around her shins, going into a upright fetal position. There was silence, a moment of cursing and jeering and then a stray rock was thrown at her head.
“Trash!”
“Worse than trash.”
“Shit!”
“Pond scum!”
It wasn’t funny but the boys laughed and one threw another rock— this one far sharper and heavier. Shiloh cried out, moving her hands and arms up to protect her head and face. It was dangerous to do this, not for her, but for them. She said nothing, bracing herself for another projectile.
“Let’s give her a bath.” One of them said.
“Yeah! She smells worse than a pigpen!” They all agreed and before she realized it, one of the bullies grabbed her wrist. His finger grazed her open palm.
“NO!” Shiloh screamed out, but it was too late. Before the realization was even on his face, before his eyes could register the pain his body was going through, he started to transform. His body rippled and crackled, breaking and reattaching in ways that was horrifying to watch. His friends stood quiet, in complete shock as they saw the transformation take place. The boy— no the thing— grew in size, grew taller and wider, so much so that monster rushed out of the alley, with Shiloh still clutched in one of it’s mutilated hands.
It was too late. Her skin touched the other young men, and somehow, someway, they began to combine with the first, turning into a horrid construction of flesh and teeth and spikes. It dropped Shiloh and she fell into the canal, unable to see it’s final transformation. Desperately, the cursed woman struggled to swim up. Luckily the water was not angry, still calm despite the scene that was emerging out on the streets.
As Shiloh’s head broke through the water and she gasped for breath, she heard a terrifying roar. Her black eyes say the creation: a monster. Another fucking monster by her unwilling hand.