The Call of the Abyss


Silentdarkness1
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"I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot," She kept repeating this over and over again, "Good grief, am I a sadist, really answer me truthfully, maybe I just don't know it myself," She looked around in her bag, a cheap liqueur lay at the bottom of it, silently she drank it and put her head in her hands.

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(Perfect.)

 

A circle of paper was pasted on the wooden ground, a perfect ring of papyrus surrounding a firepit. The individual scraps of paper that make up the ring all have illegible writing on it, not that it could be read; the writing was covered with a thin line of salt, the white grains thrown into sharper relief on top of the yellowed paper. In four cardinal directions, there were four bottles filled with beads, the salt stemming off into the center where they met the bottles, the points of the salt stopping just before the rock that the firepit makes. Despite there being a slight breeze, the salt seemed immobile, as if each grain were glued to each other and pasted onto the paper.

 

A young teen, dressed in clothes akin to a beggar sits inside the salt ring, her legs curled up in such a way that she didn't disturb the salt. She threw a small stick into the fire, the tongues of fire curling around the wood. She looked off into the distance, a look of paranoia and fear in her eyes. When she looked at the measly paper ring, however, the fear was replaced with comfort. The ring wouldn't help her against a powerful creature of malice, but it would protect her against lesser creatures.

 

She stood up, and, taking care not to step on the salt lines, she went over to one of the corners with the bottles, and lay down on the wooden floor, curled up on the uncomfortable floor. Comfort didn't matter to her, though. This setup might've used all of her resources, but she was safe.

 

She closed her eyes, and let sleep take hold of her; she needn't worry about today.

 

As she curled up on the ground, her eyes now closed completely, sleep taking hold, her finger, whether involuntary of purposfully, brushed against a single grain of salt. The effect that this simple action created was quite blown out of proportion. Every single grain of salt placed in the elaborate setup was instantly picked up by an almost nonexistent force. The salt was floating in the air, like a ribbon flying in the air, spinning faster and faster like a small tornado. Then it froze, each particle suspended in air. And just as suddenly, it was lifted away by the breeze, scattered in unknown directions, and she slept, unaware of the disaster going on.

 

Her only protection now was scraps of paper and four bottles. And they don't help much.

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"Thanks Clare,"Alex smiled groggily, was she drunk or just tired either way she followed Clare back to camp, stumbling a few times along the way. Her head hurt, and her throat burned because of the alcohol, "Why do people even drink that stuff anyway," she found herself wondering.

Edited by DivineProvidence
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Alex looked at Clare, "No, it's fine we can continue on, I don't want to be a burden because of such foolish antics on my behalf," She continued walking but stopped when she got the perimeter of the camp, "They're going to think I'm a looney with sensitivity problems and an alcoholic" She whispered to herself, "...Just don't tell them, I've been drinking, they'll think I have problems" She continued.

Edited by DivineProvidence
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Alex nodded, "I promise I won't drink again, I've ran out anyway, I only had one bottle." She followed behind Clare as they entered Camp, she still kept her head low not wanting to draw attention to her self, she stumbled once, Embarrassed, she sat down on a log next to the fire and stared at it for a good while.

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Alex sighed and got up from the ground, She was becoming a burden to them, she turned and looked at Clare before shaking her head, despite being tired, starving and her head being like nothing on earth, she started to tidy up the camp and announced, "Well, what are we waiting for...." She managed not to slur, thankfully.

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