The Lost Chateau

With a dull scratching of pencil on paper, Ben finished off the registry and looked up from where he sat on the ground. A sullen expression overcame his face. All around him the clearing stretched, sombre and bleak. Another gust of wind tugged at his clothes as he stood up, groaning at the weight he placed on his right leg in the process. He swore the wind had it out for him today and it might have all been in his head but he found that the more he let it annoy him, the more often it would blow. Annoying as it was, it could be blocked out with a concentrated effort of will and he wished he could say the same about the howls that occasionally pierced the air of the clearing. They were harder to ignore. Some sounded like predators out for his blood; others were even worse, shrill and unnatural.

Ben looked ahead at the shambolic excuse of a building that stood across the clearing – The Chateau. Chateau, the word struck a chord within his subconscious, something familiar though at the same time entirely intangible. He brushed it off. If it was important he’d remember it later. He scanned the area around him briefly and, noticing nothing had changed from the last time he looked, made his way towards the building. He felt strangely drawn to it. In his mind, he had no reason not to trust Wildcard, after all what would be the point of writing out that handy little guide just to trick him? No, out of all the Patrons, Ben had already developed a preference for the author of the scroll.

He drew his canteen as his steady approach towards The Chateau resumed, left foot thudding heavily onto the ground, right foot only making contact for a painful second and so on. He sipped conservatively from the canteen, only enough to wet his dry mouth and throat. At the bottom of the canteen, water continued to drop out of a tiny hole and one might have had the bright idea of flipping the canteen upside down to stop the dropping. Ben had felt particularly spited when he’d tried that for there was an even larger hole in the canteen’s lid. At least, he thought, he might find the solution to his ever-dwindling water supply in the dilapidated house before him.

Words meant little for the giant youth hunched over the hearth. He didn’t talk much, or at least he was pretty sure he didn’t. He hadn’t seen a living soul since waking up in the woods, but Ezekiel had a gut feeling that if he did there wouldn’t be much for him to bring to the table. There were more important things to do than chew the fat, anyhow. Unholy things in the woods calling for souls, regular things calling for meat, and all manner of creatures best kept at bay with four walls and a decent fire. Waking up so close to this place had either been providence or something planning against him, but for now it seemed safe enough.

Fellow with the fancy threads had made that clear enough, and he seemed a decent enough sort. Awful patient, telling him what he needed to know. Ezekiel wasn’t sure what those scratchings were supposed to be, but they seemed important to Wildcard. The giant wasn’t going to question it, not yet. Pointed him in the right direction, as far as he could tell. He hoped he hadn’t angered the man, writing his name the way he did. Straight line was all he could manage. He threw in a few curves to make it look proper-like, at least.

Still, talking seemed like something that Ezekiel would run into, sooner or later. Someone had lit the fire, after all. Same person had taken the time to try and clean it, set up some beds. Multiple, which mean there were a few people running about. Even set up a pan near the hearth. He knew it was a spider, given the legs. Cast iron. Someone had even seasoned it proper. Rusted, yes, and the edges looked like a moth had gone at them, but it was a place to cook up something. He hadn’t passed up the chance. He knew the value of a warm meal, even if he didn’t know exactly why. Besides, hunger had been gnawing at him since he pulled himself out of that hole and he wasn’t one to see a gift go to waste.

Someone had given him millet. He didn’t know how he knew that or why he could cook it. Feeling it in his fingers, smelling it, giving the uncooked grains a taste, it left him feeling...empty. Something was prodding at him, trying to say something, but he couldn’t place what. He was missing parts of his head, probably parts of his soul, and those little round kernels were trying to piece him back together. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to eat.

Ezekiel stirred at millet with a splintered spoon, listening to the quiet crackling mix with the dull roar of the fire. Had to toast it up. Got gummy otherwise, when you boiled it. Made it taste a little better, anyhow. Boiling, though, boiling you had to do. Boiling it made it something you could eat, otherwise you jus-

The thought died in his head. There wasn’t enough left of it, he guessed. Didn’t blame it any, not after it had gotten him this far. It had taught him what it needed to. Just being in this cursed place was teaching him the rest.

He had made it through some thick fog to get here, and it had left him damp to the bone. Something had been wrong with it, and he was glad that it could be fixed like any other gloom. It had clung too thickly, almost felt like it was fighting him all the way to the Chateau, whatever that meant. He had half-expected it to start screaming when he set up cross-legged by the fire.

Now, though, he had managed to find some calm. There was a hiss of steam as he poured some water into the pan. There hadn’t been much, and he had mixed some of that wine in with it. Kept things from gnawing at your stomach, if you weren’t sure if you should drink it. Smelled good enough now, he supposed. Ezekiel sighed, placing his hat beside him on the warm stone to dry. A thought wormed into his head between the smoke of the hearth and the smell of cooking grain. It brought a small smile it his face, leathery features creaking with disuse.

He didn’t know why, but it almost felt like.... home.

Poe clutched the handle of his corroded knife tighter as another ghostly hum snaked its way between the trees. Ever since hye'd tried to follow Wildcard back into the trees to get more answers, he'd felt as though the sound was stalking him, sometimes sounding like the source could be no further than a few feet behind him, only to fall behind as he continued on. It was beginning to become more frustrating than unnerving, since nothing was ever there when he looked, and even the haunting quality of the clumsy melody brought to mind the hiss and moan of wind through a poorly insulated house than the growl of an invisible hunter.

He'd long since tried to turn back to the clearing, the thought of the ramshackle manor seeming warm and inviting compared to this, but he was sure he was now wandering in circles. At least, he hoped it was in circles, and he wasn't just moving deeper into the woods. The light streaming weakly through the trees had faded since he'd woken up, and he didn't exactly relish the thought of spending the night out in the open with nothing but a ratty old blanket to protect him. His anxious wonderings were interrupted suddenly by the return of the sound, although it was more coherent this time.

"Stop!"

The sharp, hoarse whisper came from his immediate right, and he blindly swung the blade as he stumbled gracelessly away from the sound. He tripped over a root and hit the ground, landing hard on his left side. Scrambling on hands and knees further away from where the voice had been, he cast a glance over his shoulder...and was only slightly surprised to see that no one was there. He glanced around as he stood up, just to be sure, and sagged with relief when he realized he'd fallen into the clearing. He was so relieved to be out of the trees that he only vaguely acknowledged that there had only been more forest to his left before he fell.

He started up the hill, but changed direction when he saw someone else limping their way up towards the Chateau. They...no, that was a he, looked hurt. Guess that confirmed that this place was as hazardous as first impressions would lead one to believe.

"Hey!" he called, waving an arm over his head. "Hey, you there! Are you okay?"

The Dolls

Two pair of silent eyes stared into each other’s depths, twin pale faces moving in minuscule twitches. A glance of one pair to a piece of paper clutched loosely and the other's lips tightened before her head bobbed. Maddi and Sophie returned their eyes to each other, speaking without words in the language of the body. Their hands were clasped, each one having a hand on the paper, holding it up so they could read. Or attempt to.

A quite sigh left Maddi's lips before she handed the paper fully to her sister, dropping Sophi's hand and bending to grip the axe that had been resting against her leg. She cast curious eyes to the forest as Sophie deciphered as much as she could of the scribbles, both sets of hazel eyes focused intently on their task. It was a while, long enough for Maddi to get sufficiently bored and Sophie to find a seat among the underbrush, before Sophie made a soft sound in the back of her throat. One hand lifting towards her sister while her eyes stayed trained on the now crinkled sheet of paper. Maddi cast one last suspicious glance to the eerily silent forest before stepping to her sister's side and crouching, skirts pooling around her as their hands found each other once more. Lifting their intertwined hands, Sophi pointed to a word, Maddi's brows knitting as she read it over, then over again.

"Pa-.... Pa-trons?" She offered, voice thin and quiet. The slight confusion that had been clouding Sophi's expression melted slightly, the word's definition, or an approximate one, springing to the forefront of her mind. She nodded with a quiet hum of affirmative before sliding her delicate pointer further down the paper to another word. Again, Maddi's brows knit. "Fr-... Fii-... Friend? Find?" She offered, glancing to her twins features to see if she was right. The corners of Sophi's lips curled downward, her expression settling on dissatisfied.

"No." She murmured, voice like a gentle breeze, quiet and barely there. Maddi's response was a shrug, her memory for words exhausted on this one. Sophie, meanwhile, was struggling with the feeling that she'd seen the word before, but couldn't pin down where. In fact, she couldn't remember anything before her and her sister hand woken up, curled together in what appeared to be a grave. Pushing that from her mind, Sophie focused on the paper once more. The muscles in her jaw twitched as she clenched it, frustration coursing through her at the lapse in her knowledge, on this and all the other things. The hole in their memories was a bother to both sisters. A sigh left her finally as she looked away from the picture and to her twin, the pinch between her brows smoothing as she lowered the paper. "Fairy maybe, or like it." She murmured, twin hazel eyes trained on each other. "Nothing good though."

Maddi raised a brow at her and Sophie rolled her eyes in response. Sophie agreed, nothing seemed good about these woods.

The eyes of the shorter twin strayed to the slight gap in the trees that was just to their left, lips pursed. She lifted her free hand, tugging gently at Maddi's to get her attention before she locked her gaze with her sister's once more, resuming the silent communication. Maddi looked up at her, grip tightening on the handle of the axe before she followed Sophi's gaze and turned back to meet it. Her lips curled in an identical way to her sister's before she nodded, breathing a sigh through her nose before lacing their fingers together.

The man that had met them at their grave had wandered off that way before disappearing from sight, so Sophie assumed that was where they were supposed to go. It didn't sit right in either sisters guts to trust someone they knew nothing about, but it seemed the only choice they had. Still, both sister’s forms were tense as they followed the meandering path. Maddi's eyes would dance towards the left when sounds like footsteps seemed to crop up, they were in time with their own, but noticeable due to the volume at which they announced themselves. Neither of the girls had a heavy tread, so it couldn't be them crunching the leaves like that. Sophi's hand tightened on Maddi's, the taller twin not even turning to look before squeezing back. She was too focused on the forest.

Their trek continued unhindered though, the footsteps keeping up with them until a second or two before the twins abruptly broke through into a clearing. Twin hazel eyes blinked in surprise, having not seen the clearing through the trees. The large mansion was a surprise as well, Sophi's lips parting in awe as Maddi cast her gaze back towards the woods mistrustfully. Each girl examined their respectful fancies before their eyes locked again. Once more, the lines of communication were open, and each girl had a lot to say.

'I don't like it.' Maddi frowned, hazel eyes shaded as they flickered back to the woods once more. 'Too quiet, too strange.' Her brows pinched.

'A house though, better cover than the woods.' Sophi sighed, gaze solid and determined.

'It's strange too.' Maddi scowled, chin tilting down in displeasure as she eyed the house as Sophi watched the forest.

'It's the safer and more familiar of the two.' Sophi's hand tightened on her sister's. Maddi looked at her once more, gaze a little more uncertain.

'Still don't like it.' Maddi pursed her lips, but her stance had loosened. Sophi nodded and turned towards the ramshackle building, eyes determined as she tightened her grip on the piece of paper she had yet to fully explore. They were faced with what must have been an entrance at one point, but there was no chance of entering through it now. They'd have to find another way in.

At the muted sound of footsteps nearby, Maddi attempted to draw Sophi behind her. The shorter girl refused to comply though, withdrawing her hand from her twin's tight hold before standing next to her, stance wide and delicate fingers curling around a thick branch she'd picked up earlier. The paper was stuffed into a patched pocket on her simple dress. Twin hazel eyes stared intently across the clearing as a limping man made his way towards the chateau. Both girls were holding stock still now, hands tight on their makeshift weapons as they waited to see what would happen. Their stances mirrored each other, despite the fact neither twin had glanced at the other.

Both girls shifted so their stances were lower when another man came running from the forest behind the first. The twins shared a second-long glance before they decided to remain still, and see where it went from there. Neither was sure why, but they both felt there were great opportunities to be had here.



The Doe


Delicate hands trembled slightly as Alma clutched the paper she'd been given, the poor girl glancing fearfully around the dark and misty forest as she fretted about what to do. The man that had left. Wildcard, if she'd read the paper right, had gone through the trees to the rear of her. The willowy young woman felt she was meant to take a right though, something in her gut telling her that was the way to go.

Alma really didn't like these woods, they were far too quiet from what she felt they should be. There should be birds singing, squirrels chattering, something besides the dead silence that surrounded her like a suffocating blanket. For heaven's sake, she could barely hear the leaves rustling high up in the trees. The only thing she really could hear, and it made her twitch with the sound, was something like twigs breaking. It was almost a deliberate sound, something that seemed entirely purposeful and for the sole reason of scaring her. She tried to push the sounds from her mind, turning her attention to the paper she'd been given in an attempt to read it. Some words eluded her, while others she surmounted with minimal difficulty.

Her hair swayed with the suddenness of each movement, Alma turning her attention from the paper at the sound of every twig snap, pausing from her gentle steps with wide eyes and a quivering form. She was quite terrified now, the whites showing around her eyes and she clenched her jaw and desperately tried to find the source of the sounds. She was too terrified to speak, horrified at what might answer her back. It was all too much, the young woman's mind boiling down to the basest of instincts as she wandered further through the mist, the reading of the paper abandon and tucked into a pocket in her skirts.

A breaking branch to her left made her jerk in that direction, dark eyes flicking over the trees in a rolling desperation. Quiet sounds now escaping her clenched teeth in whimpers and soft sobs, the young woman gasped when a breath of air stirred the hair at her nape.

"Wandered far, have we?" Came the rasping voice from right behind her.

A shattering scream tore out of Alma as she started sprinting through the woods, skirts clutched high. Hair whipping out behind her like the tail of a comet as she bounded with surprising grace for the fear that drove her, Alma ran. Raspy laughter could be heard behind her, growing in twisted mirth the farther she got from its source. The young woman was crying now, eyes red and vision blurred as she ran blindly through the trees, just barely missing a few during the journey.

The jaunt through the woods ended abruptly as Alma suddenly broke tree cover, bursting through the tree line with a leap which she landed wrong. The young woman sprawled across the ground, rolling a foot or two with her momentum before she curled in on herself, crying and in small amounts of pain. A trembling hand went to her back, gently touching where she had a weapon tucked away, surprised she hadn't impaled herself on it during the fall. She was shaken, shivering in her place on the ground and so self-absorbed it took her a minute or two before she looked up.

A grand house stood before her, grand in its size, but lacking in it's upkeep. The building was a dark wonder, spiraling towards the treetops but crumbling on the outside, and most likely on the inside as well. It was a cold building, yet Alma found herself being drawn towards it. She wanted to go inside, explore more and discover the secrets of the mysterious looking mansion. Hopefully it would be somewhat less scary then the woods she'd just exited.

Wiping tears away with the heel of her hand, Alma stood. She brushed off her skirts, wincing slightly when she put pressure on her left ankle. Noting that it was nothing serious to worry about Alma started making her way towards the building. She could manage this small hurt, and had a strange feeling that she'd suffered worse before. Eyes puffy and cheeks colored softly, Alma made her way towards the manor, noticing an entrance on the side like a servant would use. She could see to her left the stones of what must be a courtyard, but decided she'd rather be inside a building then be outside any longer.

She approached quietly, unconsciously choosing each placement of her foot before taking the step. Creeping through the worn looking doorway, Alma was greeted by the warmth of a fire and the sight of a kitchen. She blinked in surprise upon noticing another person in the room, form tensing up as her hand twitched towards her back. She paused though, nose twitching as she scented out the grain he was cooking up, brown eyes flicking to the pot on the fire before looking back up to the man tending it. Her cheeks colored, and she tilted her chin down in shyness. Unsure what to
say, but feeling that greetings seemed a good start, Alma spoke up.

"H-Hello." She nearly whispered, voice quaking with nerves and everything she'd encountered so far in these woods. Her left hand stayed close to her back, her weight resting on her right foot as she steadied her stance. Trembling lips parted to say something more before sealing once again, unsure of how to continue the weak excuse of a conversation. So, there she stood. Skirts swaying softly as she shifted her feet, eyes falling to the floor in embarrassment and occasionally flicking up to glance at the stranger out of curiosity. She was at a loss.

At first he wrote it off as the woods playing tricks on him but the sound rang out again and he whirled around to face it. A young man waved at him further downhill. Ben’s grip tightened around his canteen. In a pinch it could work as a weapon; it was heavy enough to deliver a considerable wallop, perhaps even knock someone out if the situation called for it. As it happens, this seemed unlikely to become such a situation. The man down the hill looked inconspicuous enough – more than that, he looked concerned. Ben raised an assuring hand and decided to close the distance to the other man before answering his question.

“Yes, I’m just fine,” He said, pronouncing each syllable with a lofty confidence, “It’s just this bloody knee, it’s been like this since… since…”

His face scrunched up in contemplation as he broke eye contact. The wind cooed a low tone around them.

“God dammit, I can’t for the life of me recall what I did to it. Not that it matters anyway, I don’t even notice it anymore to be honest,” His eyebrows pricked upwards, “Who are you by the way and what are you doing here?”

That was certainly not the correct way to ask those questions and he gave himself a proper scolding internally before raising his hands in apology.

“I’m sorry, it’s just this place, bloody hell. My name’s Ben, what about you?”

He did not offer his hand out to the other man but he felt sure this could be forgiven considering the circumstance.

Ezekiel slowly looked up at the new arrival. She looked like the hounds of hell had been nipping at her heels for a good few miles of bad road. He was sure they all did. Wouldn’t want to meet the person that looked fresh after their first night here, he reckoned, and judging by the way this girl was shuffling about, he didn’t have to think about that just yet. The hand behind the back, though, that wasn’t something he liked. Not many reasons to do that, not in a place like this. Ezekiel had a good feel of what he looked like from the roughness of his hands and feet. He wasn’t a soft-looking man and he wasn’t a kind-looking man, and he couldn’t think of any way someone could see him different. He reckoned he could be mighty fierce and mighty hard if the Devil came calling, but right now he wanted a warm meal and safe place to stay. Fighting would come later if it was coming at all, and it would be outside where they wouldn’t mess up the place.

He turned back to his grain, features calm and about as warm as a lump of stone. It wasn’t a choice for him, really, he just had that sort of face. Someone could’ve struck matches on his cheeks if they had the mind to, he ventured. His voice wasn’t much nicer, being deep and rumbling and belonging to the sort of person who either worked hard all day or fought those who did. The accent tinging his voice was thick and heavy, the origin of which was completely unknown to him. He had thought Wildcard had been the funny-talking one, up until this girl had tried to greet him. For all the roughness about him, though, his tone wasn’t nearly as intimidating as the rest of him. It sounded warm enough, and he seemed honest enough. He was too hungry and damp to lie.

‘Evenin’, Miss. Supper’s ‘bout done, if’n you care to have some.” His gaze meaningful traveled from the grain to her hidden hand, and back to his pot. “No call for violence, Miss. Can’t say if you’re a man or one of them beasts worming their way into hearth and home, but I figure we can ‘least share a meal ‘fore the horns come out.” He knocked the spoon against the jagged edge of the pot, dislodging some stuck millet. “Far as I know I’m one of regular folks, and judgin’ by the way you’re listin’ you came from Adam same as me.” He looked at her. Something about they way she stood, cold and scared, it didn’t sit right with him. Another memory flitted through his head and quickly died out. He turned his eyes back to his work. No use staring at her, just put her on edge. “So how’s ‘bout we keep the peace ‘till there’s a good and proper reason not to, eh? I’m soaked to the bone and this fire’s a warm one.” He hiked a thumb at the beds behind him, quietly moving the pan away from the fire. “‘Sides, some folks set this up ‘fore I got here, so I reckon we got more comin’. Might as well take a load off and get yourself settled. Gonna find us some bowls.”

Ezekiel slowly got his feet. It looked like a boulder in motion, and as he stretched his back to his full height he towered over the girl. He moved like a boulder, too, slow and deliberate as he picked through the sagging cabinets. His voice issued from somewhere in the rotting wood, punctuated by the occasional clunk of moved items.

“Give it a stir, if’n you please. It’ll set up something hard elsewise.” There was thump as he found something small, moving, bitey, and now very flat. “-rats here too, damnation. Oh. Reckon I’m called Ezekiel, Miss. ‘Bout all I can tell you, ‘spect it’s the same for you. Wouldn’t mind knowin’ yours. Name for a bowl, eh?”

Poe was surprised to find himself caught out by the man's questions, and for a moment he remained silent as he cast his eyes around at their bizarre surroundings. The monstrously tall trees with their dense canopy wouldn't look normal anywhere on Earth, he was sure of that. What in the hell was he doing here? Worry that Wildcard's assertion was accurate and that everyone here deserved it sat uncomfortably somewhere deep in his chest. Had he hurt someone? Who? And why would he do that?

He shook these thoughts off for the moment as the other name offered his name. Poe slipped his knife away into a pocket before answering, hoping it wouldn't cut through the thin fabric of his jacket. It really wasn't appropriate to have it out right now, so hoping would have to suffice for the moment.

"I..." he hesitated, unsure exactly how to answer. "Poe. My, uh, my name's Poe...I think." He genuinely wasn't sure; it seemed too short to be his full name, but he could remember nothing else that might be his or anyone else's title.

He paused suddenly as a distinctly human shriek split the silence of the forest nearby. The knife instinctively found its way back into his grip as he anxiously scanned the treeline, unsure whether he'd be at all prepared to offer assistance to whomever had made that awful noise. Before he could decide, a woman that looked to be about his age tore out of the treeline and fell hard at the edge of the clearing in a manner not dissimilar to his own re-entry to the meadow. Part of him was revolted by his reluctance to approach her and help, but some deep, animalistic corner of his psyche held him firmly in its control. She didn't need his help yet, trustworthy or not: He watched uncomfortably as she picked herself up and made her way gingerly up the hill and into the manor via a side entrance.

The immediate issue of a possible threat now having resolved, Poe returned his attention to Ben. That woman could still be in danger, even inside the crumbling shelter. "Have you been here very long?" he asked, a bit more urgently than he'd intended. "In the Woods, I mean. Wildcard said that place was safe," he pointed up the hill towards the Chateau. "But he didn't exactly strike me as being on the straight and narrow..."

The Doe


A gentle tremble ran through the girls frame when the stranger started speaking, his voice somewhat of a shock compared to the near silence that had proceeded it. Alma could be seen to take a small half-step back, wide eyes following the man's every move as he spoke in his low rumble. She listened attentively though, senses on high alert as she watched from her doorway. A dusting of rose colored her cheeks at the mention of horns, the hand in plain view flying to her head to make sure there weren't any. A shuddering sigh left her at the confirmation that there were, in fact, no horns. She jerked again when he knocked his wooden spoon against the pot, eyes flicking to the simmering cauldron. Her stomach gurgled silently, the hand that had touched her crown slipping down to rest on it, rounded cheeks coloring further as she flicked to see his reaction to her rudeness.

Brown met brown as she gazed into his eyes, her own rounding and glancing away. She had the strangest feeling she shouldn't be so... forward? It was a strange notion, the feeling understandable, but she couldn't imagine why. Another furtive glance up showed her he'd gone back to his cooking. Her nose twitched, mind turning again towards the prospect of food. Alma noticed she too was quite damp upon his mention of it, fine tremors running through her that she'd only just become aware of. She couldn't see it, but her lips were tinged a very light blue, mostly hidden by their natural color. Her eyes followed his motion, taking in the poor excuses for beds and Alma's lips twisted in thought.

A different posture seemed to straighten her spine then, the young woman standing tall and proper as she took in the disarray of the kitchen. This, at least, felt familiar to her. A quick examination of the kitchen left Alma disappointed . This was supposed to be the heart of the home, for it to look like this, the manor must be in poor condition indeed. She watched as the man stood, previous mannerisms coming back into play as fingers of fear brushed her at the sheer size of him. She was doomed if this went foul. The moment he was far enough away for her to be comfortable, she'd stepped up to the pot. The only sound to signal her movement being the soft swish of her skirts. She stood silently, taking up the spoon while keeping an ear tilted towards where he was poking through the sagging cabinets. Alma started stirring gently as she cast about for spices, something in her gut telling her that leaving it as it was just wasn't right. Something made her look for garlic and onions and a couple other things, but she didn't see any.

Her knife had been long forgotten at this point, dull and wooden handle peaking from the ribbon of her apron springs at the small of her back.

She nodded silently when he suggested doing what she was already in the process of, lips curling slightly at the thought that she was a step ahead for once. She frowned then though, wondering where that thought had come from. She also wasn't sure how she already knew that to cease stirring would put a premature end to the idea of a meal. There were a lot of things she wasn't sure about at this moment, and an unsettling amount of them were about herself.

Alma dragged herself from her thoughts when the man, Ezekiel, spoke up again. She stayed silent for a second longer when he asked her name, lips parted to speak, but hesitation holding her tongue.

"A-... Alma... If it pleases tha sir." She spoke quietly, a tone of question coloring the statement. She felt there was supposed to be another part to her name, but couldn't remember for the life of her what it was. What a horrible thing, to forget your own name. Alma's lips quivered then, sudden tears falling before she wiped them away with the heel of her hand. A smear of dirt now streaking across her cheek from her hand, residue from when she'd attempted to catch herself earlier. "W-will the sir- the Sir Ezekiel be needing anythang else?" She spoke quietly, almost like an unthinking afterthought. It seemed right to tack that on, routine. Her voice held steady, if quiet, in the face of her sudden tears.

It suddenly struck her how formal she was being, and how out of place it seemed in this informal place. Her cheeks colored heavily as she peaked back at him from under her lashes, chin tilted down as her shyness made a crippling return.

"Ah'm sorry s-si- E-Ezekiel." She nearly whispered, voice just barely audible above the clanking of the spoon against the pot as she continued to stir. "I just - just-" A gasp. "Its- i-its-" She gave a quiet hiccup, more tears flowing as she lifted a hand to wipe them away, more dirt making smears across her pale face. "Ah don't even know who Ah ahm anymore." She whimpered, mostly to herself. Her shoulders trembled as she released everything she'd experienced so far.

Waking up in a place she didn't know, unsure of who she was or was. Being stalked by things she couldn't see and had no chance of fighting, despite the fact she was given a weapon. Not that the knife would make a difference, she didn't know how to use one outside of cooking, let alone for personal defense! What was she supposed to do? She could barely even read the sheet that was supposed to be her guide to this place.

Another hiccup escaped her as she tried desperately to wipe away the tears and calm down, right hand stirring the pot mechanically like she cried while cooking everyday.

"Oh, what have Ah gotten into?" She sobbed, voice cracking as she tried to even her breathing. Another hiccup escaped her for her efforts.


The Dolls


At the shriek that tore through the woods, Sophi flinched and Maddi's grip tightened on the axe handle. Neither girl reacted further than that though, both going back to their previous still postures. They watched one of the men react to something just around the building and out of their sight, saw his hand twitch before he calmed himself once more. A glance shared showed that both twins were interested in what had caused the commotion, but they were more interested in the two men at the moment. Both girls watched the men converse, heads cocking in opposite directions at the lack of a handshake. It was only polite to offer your hand, not that manners was something either of them dwelled on, it was just unusual to not see it in grownups. Or was it? Both girls struggled with half remembered memories for a moment before they returned to the show before them. Sophi struggled for a second longer before returning her attention to the men.This was something for them to use, and they shared a look to confirm each other's thoughts on the matter.

It only took a second.

Stashing their respective weapons, the twins set forth, eyes wide and lips trembling as they half ran, half stumbled towards the men. Their hands were clasped together between them, wound tight enough the whites of their knuckles shown.

"Sirs? Sirs?" Maddi started, voice high and wavering as Sophi wiped at streaming tears. Both girls were crying by this point, trembling from head to toe. "Sirs, can you help us?" Maddi continued.

"We're lo-st." Sophie sobbed, voice breaking on the last syllable. She was standing to the left of Maddi, just a half step behind her sister and slightly behind her.

Maddi started: "We can't find-"

"Mom." Sophi finished.

Both girls looked up with wide and hopeful eyes, staring at both the men like they had halos. A light and unnoticeable tightening of Maddi's pointer finger against Sophi's clasped hand had both sets of hazel eyes turning towards the man that had entered the clearing second.

"Please?" They whimpered in unison, sniffling quietly.

They stood waiting, curly strawberry blonde hair tangled and caught up with leaves from their romp through the woods. Their dirty dressed faring no better, but leading one to believe the fabric had seen worse. There was dirt smeared across both of their faces and bodies, caked under their nails as well. Everything about them, from demeanor to clothing screamed poor, fragile, and harmless.

Sophi stepped forward to hug Maddi's arm to her chest, now mostly hidden behind her sister as she looked up at the dark haired man, peaking from under her lashes shyly.

Poe was beyond surprised by the appearance of the young sisters. His start was practically theatrical; he jumped so violently that his feet actually left the grass for a half-instant. He only became more unnerved as he studied the pair of them. What in the hell are little children doing in a place like this?? Are they...Are they actually children?

Not that it mattered: The two filthy munchkins standing before him wrenched at his heartstrings too poignantly for him to leave them be. Something subtle about them rubbed him the wrong way, but it wasn't enough. He still only got to decide exactly how to help them. He'd always had a soft spot for kids, and vaguely remembered being told he was good with them, though he couldn't even half-remember who might have told him that. He squatted down, putting on his most sympathetic smile as he greeted the new arrivals.

"Well, aren't you two just a sight for sore eyes?" he said patiently, looking the two of them over. "You've lost your mother, you say? Well, where did you last see her?" Only a concerted effort of will kept him from grimacing as the unlikelihood of finding anyone out among those densely packed trees occurred to him. "Do you think she'd be close by? Because if not, you know it's better to stay put and wait for her to find you, right? You two could walk right past her out there and none of you would even notice, but if you wait for her here, you can stay safe until she comes here looking for you." He bit his tongue after he finished, resisting the urge to add anything that might scare the girls.

Ezekiel turned back to the girl, task completed. The stack of bowls and spoons in his hands remained still as the tree they came from as he walked back. He could carry things, that much he knew. What he wasn't sure about was who he was. Most of those bits were missing, and if he was honest, it didn't bother him all that much. The girl, though, she was taking it awful hard. Didn't blame her none for it, but something about the way she spoke worried him a little bit. Tears were fine, happened to everyone and everything at least once, but he had a gut feeling that was what the wood was looking for. He didn't want those things to win, not like that. Bite, claw, do what the pit built them to do, but leave the mind alone. It was all some people had.

He sat by the girl, slowly sorting the bowls out on the stone near the hearth. Didn't like seeing her cry like that, not one bit. He didn't know if he could do anything for it, not when he scared her the way he did, but he was going to try. He glanced over at the girl for a few seconds before turning back to his work. When he spoke, it was quiet and calm, still as rough as before, yes, but tinged with something else that he couldn't quite place. Brotherly? Fatherly? Something close to that, he knew. Felt right enough.

"Well, Ms. Alma, you can call me what you like. Reckon it's the first time anyone's called me sir in my life, noble as it was of you to say. No harm done either way. If'n you're gonna be apologizin' to me, it's not for somethin' like that. 'Less it helps you, I suppose."

There was a quiet clack of wood-on-wood as he finished his sorting. A dozen bowls sat beside him, spoons and all. He didn't know if there were that many out there to fill them, but he wasn't taking any chances. Nobody was going to go hungry, not if they had the food to spare. He sighed quietly, looking into the crackling fire with that rocky look of his.

"'Sides, if that wildcard fellow was talkin' straight, I wasn't nobody worth knowin'. Rather do good down here that know I did evil back home, eh? Not somethin' I can fix today, far as I can tell, so I'm not gonna fret over it if I don't need to."

He took a pair of the bowls, holding one out for the girl to take. There was a small smile playing on his face. It didn't look quite right on it's own, not with all of those callouses and scars crowding it, but it looked like it fit for Ezekiel.

"Figure you need it the most. A hot meal can cure more ills than the best sawbones on God's Earth, and the first one always got that somethin' nice in it. Jus' know that 'least for now, you ain't gon' be eatin' alone."

Have you been here very long?" he asked, a bit more urgently than he'd intended. "In the Woods, I mean. Wildcard said that place was safe," he pointed up the hill towards the Chateau. "But he didn't exactly strike me as being on the straight and narrow..."

“It’s been too long already,” Ben gave an uneasy laugh, “An hour since I woke up though, maybe a couple. Why do you ask, have you be-“

Ben was cut off by the twin girls approaching. The words scrawled down in Wildcard’s scroll shot through his mind at their sudden appearance. He looked back between his new acquaintance and the twins. What if they were fiends? Poe had already tried to undermine Wildcard’s sanity after all. It was unlikely that a fiend would approach the Chateau, but maybe he was only waiting for him to turn his back,just for a second. Ben withdrew a step as the twin girls began their story, watching on with a furrowed brow and a thoughtful hand at his chin.

It was a convincing act for sure and against his better judgement he found himself leaning slightly closer with each word. That look they gave him was the turning point. It appealed so nicely to his ego and the sceptic expression fell away from his face, replaced with a wide eyed concern. They did look to be in a right state after all. He let Poe do the talking as he gave the surroundings another quick scan. The bleak clearing was unsettling as the first time he had stumbled into it, but looked no different than it had since the girls appeared. Peering into the trees, he hoped to get a glimpse of a dress or a flash of hair that might belong to the girls’ mother but the Sinner’s wood did not allow him to see any further than those first few rows of trees. Turning back to the girls, he awaited their response.

The Dolls

A hearty sniffle sounded from Maddi as she wiped at her eyes, nose red from the slight chill that had settled in the air. Sophi shifted slightly to draw attention to her, taking up the stage from her hiding place with a trembling lip and shy gaze. The twins had to leave these folks with a certain impression after all.

"W-we don't know where she is." Sophi nearly whispered, keeping her eyes mostly on the ground, but flicking them up occasionally to meet one of the men's. "We woke up h-here by ourselves, there was a str-strange mannnn..." She trailed off, letting her voice break with sobbing as Maddi took over.

"He gave us a paper we couldn't read and t-then-" Maddi hiccuped, Sophie taking over flawlessly.

"Just le-left. Do you know where we are? Where our mom is?" She asked, hugging her sister's arm tighter as she peaked out from behind her human wall.

"Please?" They spoke in unison, eyes shining.

"We don't know what to do, we're cold and hungry..." Sophi started.

"That man gave us s-some food, but we don't know how to start a fire..." Maddi finished. Both girls gave it a pause, let it sink in to the men that they were in the same boat, and completely clueless as to why they were there. They let it soak in that they were innocent little girls that had no right being in these woods and they were to be protected because, surely, they didn't know how to protect themselves. It was a clever ruse, one the girls had a strange feeling they'd pulled before, even if they couldn't place why or when. A stiff breeze blew past the quartet, swirling the girls' dresses and hair and making them shift their weight uneasily. That air hadn't felt right. There was something unnatural about it, even if they couldn't' place what. A sway of Maddi's hips to knock into Sophi's made the girl speak up, Maddi wanting her sister to voice the question that had given them both pause. They wanted to know what they were in for with this forest and everything that might be sneaking around in it.

"What did you m-mean safe?" Sophie spoke up quietly, visibly trembling as her 'innocent mind' went through the possibilities, Maddi joined her in looking scared, the marginally taller girl shrinking in on herself and into her sister as they both stared up at the men with frightened and confused gazes. Mentally though, each girl was waiting to hear what these unsuspecting men knew of their circumstances. Better to gather all the information before they made a decision. Perhaps the strangers could be of use to them in more ways than one.


The Doe

Sobs quieted to sniffles as the man, Ezekiel, went steadily about his task, seeming to mull over everything she'd spat in her fear fueled rant. It was nice that he hadn't just brushed her off, nice that he was listening and seemed to care about her concerns. She didn't know why she felt that way specifically, but she knew that it felt nice to be listened to for once. But that begged the question, when hadn't she been listened to before that it bothered her so?

Long hair swayed slightly as she shook her head to clear it of those toxic thoughts, not wanting the torrent of tears to start up again. She'd just calmed herself for heaven's sake! Alma listened quietly, a relaxing feeling spreading through her at the calm and caring tone Ezekiel used when he spoke. It was nice, something that showed her he cared. He was getting easier to be around, her nerves dropping some the longer she was with him and he didn't attack her. It was a given that she'd relax the longer things stayed calm between them, but couldn't shake the feeling that it was odd nothing had happened. For some reason, though it was nice, the calmness felt out of place.

"It... It was'n tha sir callin that got me ahll in ah tiz- Well... Well Ah sappose it was, but that wasn't the ahll of it. It's just how... how natural it felt to add that, the On-O-Rificks, and me here not even knowin why... It's bothersome, ya know?" She breathed, words leaving her in a rush of stops and starts as she tried to calm her breathing again, some hiccups still bothering her as she wiped away tears. Her hand reached out blindly for the bowel, a soft thanks murmured as she reached to the side of the cauldron for a ladle before realizing that there wasn't even a counter there. Wet brown eyes blinked in confusion before she shook her head, stepping to the side and pulling a drawer open to search through it. She continued speaking as she worked, the flow of words pouring from her like a tap left on. "Not to know why Ahm here either is scary. Ah know Ah did somethin bad, that much is clear to me. It's that blasted what that's yanking my chain so hard its breakin me. What what what. What did Ah do to land mahself in this cold and lonely wood, alone and set to be tormented by things out O' the black book..." She huffed in displeasure when she failed to find her ladle in the drawer she'd been searching, turning to the next one and yanking it open with some force as firelight and faint daylight danced on the walls in twisting shadows.

She fell silent as she searched now, shoulders stiff but for the slightest tremble, her voice steady now with determination as she talked herself through it. Her search finally turned up a filthy twisted thing that she passed as a ladle, setting her bowel down to polish the utensil before bringing it back to the pot and scooping some of the hot food into it. She turned then, holding the bowel out and waiting for Ezekiel to take it as her mind whirred with thought, lip tight between her teeth as her brows tried to knit a sweater they were pinched so hard. Chestnut eyes landed on the bowels and spoons the man had laid out, her curiosity piquing as she looked over the many settings and then flicking over to the many bedrolls laid out on the filthy ground. While it ran through her that she was going to have to clean up the kitchen a little or go mad looking at the dirt, she wondered suddenly how many of them there were.

"Did you know of anymore of us lonely folk that were supposed to be here?" Alma asked curiously, shoulders square as she took on the position of the hostess. "That floor is filthy and Ahm sure the bedclothes could use a wash..." She trailed off, letting her self get distracted from her problems with the idea of work. "You've set the table, Ah'll clean the room when Ah get a chance." She murmured, half to herself, seeming lost in her little world before suddenly meeting Ezekiel's eyes with a blush. "Oh goodness me, Ah got a little lost there, forgive me if ya will Si- Ezekiel." She bursted out, shyness bringing her back to herself as her shoulders hunched once more and her gaze dropped again. "It's... It's nice, yeah. To have company, even if neither of us know why we're here in the first place..." Alma responded finally, pulling the bowel she'd been holding out to him back to herself and reaching for a spoon as well. She scooped herself a mouthful and stepped away from the pot so he could get some food as well, blowing on the hot millet as her cheeks colored in embarrassment. "Again, sorry fer gettin lost there for a second, Ah got a funny feelin Ah do that a lot..." A nervous half laugh left her as she let the sentence trail off, eyes averted as she lifted another bite to her lips so she didn't put her foot further in her mouth. The wind made the house creak, the sound slightly ominous to her ears as she looked again at the dilapidated kitchen. She sighed through her nose, there really was a lot to be done.

Before she could realise it, the man who was next to her a moment ago was now gone. The lady looked around for any signs of him but she figured it was a lost cause. "Fuck..", she murmured, surprised at the sound of her own voice. She hadn't heard it for a while so she hummed to test it again. Moments later her attention was drawn back to the piece of paper the man had left with her. Giving it a read she turned it to see the Registry section empty. She presumed it was waiting for her so she tried to calm myself down and searched my coat, finding a blunt pencil. Unwillingly, she began filling in the Registry in Cyrillic. Irene Tsaritsyn.

Unsatisfied with what she had just written, Irene threw the old piece of paper in the wind with anger. She wasn't one to trust a stranger easily but her gut told her to do so. She gave herself a couple of moments to assimilate what she's doing why is she here and how did she get here? The lady then realised she had no memory of anything that had happened before getting here, besides her name. In a mixture of anger and some level of panic her pulse fastened, but her face remained calm. Irene searched her coat to find a double barrelled flintlock pistol. It laid heavy in the girl's small hands. She tutted when she saw that the trigger was stuck, which only gave her more reason to keep her eyebrows furrowed. Deeper in her coat she found a small leather bound book which pages were separated by a cigar. Feeling rushed by the unwelcoming environment, Irene didn't read it now. She stopped and listened, only to hear nothing but the wind. Everything beyond her sight felt misty and dangerous. The girl was feeling uneasy and her breathing was becoming heavier by the second. Her hasty eyes moved from place to place, every tree looked like hid something scary behind it. The lady didn't feel safe at all, as if some bloodthirsty beast would pound on her any moment now.

In the middle of her silent panicking, Irene directed a firm slap to her cheek. Her hand hurt from impulse but it sure did the job. Shaking herself off, she did her utmost best to put herself at ease. She gave The Chateau a long look. Remembering the advice of the man, she began walking towards it, thoughts flooding her mind. But what of my family? Do I have one to begin with? Why did I wake up in a grave again? While she walked she put her palm around her neck, a place which seemed comfortable to rest her hand at. She didn't have a single reason to trust that man, Wildcard, according to the scroll. Irene was thinking on the spot, if she chose to stay outside, she risked dying from something that she couldn't yet identify as anything different than a monster. On the other hand, she could stay at The Chateau which seemed to be the safer of the two options, despite its' equally haunting look.

Entering from the kitchen's door, as the instructions from the scroll recommended, Irene grabbed her pistol by the muzzle and warily opened the creaking door.

If there was anything that Deckle Stickers was annoyed about in his current situation, it was the lack of fire in the vicinity.

Sure, the side pockets of his tracksuit trousers had those subtle boxy bulges with little mighty sticks that gave him relief, but the thought of using his matches and matchboxes to start a fire right where he was made his head ache with a sharp sting for some reason he didn't understand.

Still, he wasn't of the sort who thought so much about such things. All he cared about right now was that he needed a nice warm fire to eat and rest by, and since the woods beyond weren't safe enough areas for him, he had to look within the property he was currently in.

Of course, the first thing he would go to would be the kitchen of the big mansion castle thing towering in front of him, which made him laugh for some reason. He read stuff about a hearth in the paper he had held a while ago, which also made him laugh for some reason, a reason other than the elation he felt at the fact that there was safe fire to be found nearby.

And so, the young and fire-loving man slouched forward, walking and swinging his way to the sole entrance to the Chateau.

"Oh, hello there~" he then greeted the gun-wielding woman in front of the door, not even bothering to make eye contact with her as he raised an arm and waved with a dopey smile.

Poe made a small show of listening thoughtfully to the young girls' story, pursing his lips as his eyes tilted slightly upwards to focus on nothing in particular. He was already genuinely concerned for the girls, almost in defiance of the wriggling, scratching thing buried deep in his brain that told him something was amiss with them, but he refused to let it come through in his expression yet. As he attempted to continue mulling over the question of where their mother was actually likely to be in order to keep up the facade, he found himself furrowing his dark brows in concentration and instead pondering over where exactly the four of them were as well. His right hand lifted itself to his face in an oddly involuntary manner, his middle and fore fingers laying themselves diagonally across his lips almost of their own accord with his thumb rubbing idly at the unshaven fuzz just under his cheekbone.

At first he assumed the expression he now wore was just his customary "thinking face," for lack of a better name, which presented itself when he allowed an interesting or puzzling story or tidbit to wind its way into the nooks and crevices of his mind. However, as the girls concluded their story and he stood up with a slightly exaggerated sigh, the pieces fell into place in his mind. That niggling little doubter in his head had told him what hadn't been adding up. His act faltered for a fraction of a second and his eyes darted to the girls before he finished processing the thought. The charade slid back into his features and limbs as he started to scan the treeline, his face a mixture of concern and puzzlement as he rubbed the nape of his neck with one hand. Perhaps they were really telling the truth, but that kind of exception without reason seemed unlikely without a cause...

"Well..." The word was more of a sigh than an actual word, not that it mattered; turning back to the children with a sigh and his usual tired smile on his determinedly youthful countenance communicated more to these two than several sentences...Well, it would if they were actually kids. He realized silently that that question was actually up in the air now. Still, he should treat them like kids as best he could; ideally they'd assume he trusted them completely regardless of their intentions for treachery. With that thought in mind, he kept his expression as sympathetic as he could manage when he started to explain.

"I'm not really sure how safe anywhere is in this place, but I think that..." he paused, poking a thumb over his shoulder at the mansion. "Is gonna be our best bet. I know it looks kind of spooky, but Wildcard told me that the scary things in the woods don't like to go in there. Do you think your mommy would be okay with you coming inside with me? I'll go in first, just in case, but I think it should be okay."

She opened her hazel green eyes and took in her environs. Sitting up, she continued to look around, dusting off the soil from her clothing. She then stood up, finishing dusting herself off. Where the hell am I? What was with the sudden wake up after all that thought. She wondered in her mind, but her thoughts were quickly interrupted by a sudden voice of a young man. She couldn’t help but and give a look of ‘seriously’ at his dry humor. She took the cane, her expression changing to a ‘holy s*’ expression as he effortlessly lifted her with one hand. What the hell and who the hell are you dude? She thought as he deposited her next to the open grave. She looked to the open grave, thinking to herself, well if that wasn’t ominous waking up in an open grave. She went to speak, but he started speaking and as he began to explain things she sat quietly on the surface, but inside her brain was a million questions of who was she, how did she get here, what was her name, who is this guy, what do you mean not human, so don’t trust anyone, then why am I trusting you and following you the list continued until her full attention snapped towards the sound of a howl. She immediately glanced in the direction and then ran into something jumping back about to fight before she realized who it was. She blinked at him standing still in confusion. She stepped to the side of him to see the Chateau. Well this looks cozy, not. She goes to speak her thoughts, when he offers her a piece of paper and explains its importance and the Chateau’s importance. She went to ask him something only to realize he wasn’t there anymore.

“Well, if that isn’t creepy.” She mutters softly to herself. “but I guess it explains why he passed through easily, but not why he was solid when I ran into him though.
She glanced back at the Chateau, then to herself and decided she best go inside. She started to read the paper, getting more and more confused about what in hell this place was…or maybe that was her answer…purgatory maybe. She sighed as she finished the paper information. She looked at the form as she was entering the Chateau. She paused at looking at the form, name…she couldn’t recall it.

“Well, that is strange, everyone has one.” She mutters quietly more to herself. “Oh well, since I can’t remember it, I guess I’ll name myself. Hmm.” She spoke softly, her voice very calm despite the inner turmoil of confusion. “Rin…yes…simple and good…Rin sounds good.” She says softly.
She finishes filling out the form and glances out the door, seeing a wind come by she steps out and lets t fly. “What is the point of this letting it fly in the wind anyway.” She muttered before going back into the Chateau.