A Synyster Tale

[Alicia Willis]

Hey Y'all !!

It is officially spooky season !

I wanted to get the creative juices flowing in a non musical way.

I'm sure many of us in school participated in a group story telling project in our Literature classes in which one person wrote a sentence, and the then the next, and so on, to create a full story.

That's what we are doing here, except it is not limited to just one sentence!

Write as much as, or as little, as you feel to keep the story going.

The imagination is limitless. Let's see how far ours can take us.

I'll start below in the comments. Help me complete this story.

 

[Alicia Willis]

She stared down at her trembling hands as the hot, sticky blood dripped from each fingertip. She felt the life she had taken in each drop as it fell onto the moist soil. Petrichor filled the air as she attempted her final blow, bringing her a sense of peace.

 

[Ed Seith]

“Well, shit,” she thought. This is not how the day was supposed to go. It is what it is. She set about draining the blood and harvesting a handful of the organs, pausing to enjoy the delicacy that was a fresh pair of blue eyes.

After that, she dragged the half-empty meat bag to the bathtub. She had the chemicals she needed, but they’d been intended for someone else. Now she’d have reach out to Agmar for more. He would hassle her about the scarcity, and he was right, but… “Shit,” she thought again. Not how this fucking day was supposed to go.

 

[JakAngelescu]

Ah, Agmar. The dark enchanting prince that had kept her soul for over a thousand years. Yes, a thousand moons or more he'd be howling her name. She remembered his face well. But necromancers were a thing of days gone by. Or were they? Yes, she had her offering for her beloved wicked one, and how she admired every drop of blood that flowed in its crimson river down her forearm as she held the bag high, studying what was inside. Suddenly, a paralyzing breeze of icy air took her lungs and she abruptly turned. Her eyes gazed into nothingness.
Her pupils began to dilate as her lips trembled, "Agmar, is that you?"

 

[Al7eX]

Walking closer to the silhouette in the darkness, she could feel the icy air moving down her neck, her hands trembling with the bag. Every step closer the room felt growing longer and longer, then suddenly… lights start flickering, blood dripping down the walls, the silhouette who appears to be Agmar still standing and… gone. The silhouette, light flickering, everything seem to disappear.

 

[JakAngelescu]

But what room had she gone into? It was only a moment ago she was smelling the dank soil of the cemetery. One could have imagined her longing to return to the cemetery, where she held the heart and the lungs of some kindly stranger in her hand, only for him.
Her Agmar.
The cemetery night of forgotten souls and fracturing stones were only a memory, a memory now replaced by the halls of blood that looked infectious and familiar. It was wear she remembered the death of her sweet Sarah, so innocent and pure in her angelic youth.
Of course! It was the seventh year of Sarah's anniversary of death. But she could not remember this now. No. She had to regain her courage and walk down the crushing halls of dark, unforgiving waters.
The bathtub was gone.
Her sanity was gone.
Agmar WAS there, but what had she done?

 

[Forgetabull]

The faint smell of cinnamon was lingering in the air. How could that be ? Agmar had an affinity for using cinnamon as a reagent, but the spice had not been seen in many years.

 

[Ian _Invader]

Agmar always was fond of the Smell of Cinnamon as it reminded him of his favorite drink from Ye Old' Pinkly Smooth tavern.
However, this did not put him at ease as the bar tender whos name was Fiction was a close friend who gave his life for him.
He shuttered while walking among the graves.
Heart beating cold, Breathless, Agonizing, Heart wrenching memories of the ghosts of days gone by filled his mind.
The cold rain felt like acid as it dripped down his brow.
He could feel Sarah's spirit was near.
"Would life be so precious if there never was an end"? Sarah's spirit whispered.
"I hope you find your own way when I'm not with you tonight" Fictions faint voice echoed.

 

[Alicia Willis]

The two parallel worlds were colliding with a force that only the loss of a child could bring.
The loss of Sarah. A loss both Amgar and Maeve felt stronger, now, more than ever.


(hey! We have a name for our dear female character now)

 

[William B.]

Flashes of light followed by rolling claps of thunder echoes through the mountains
A distant faint grunt " bring the bag of souls.. " followed by another " it's almost time.. ".
Maeve snapped to her senses muttering with a sigh " these flashbacks... ". She dashed just past the cemetery gates towards Amgar who was knelt before a pit at the foot of an Elm tree and reached for the bag. The behemoth that is Amgar now towering over Maeve removed his hood revealing a silvery mane that glistened in the moonlight and let out a maniacal cackle. " Look we can do it! Focus Maeve, look! " She cried with tears of disbelief as the pit began to fill with a bloody red wine. Her gaze turned sinister blowing out the oil lamp. " What now Amgar? "