Writing prompt: A young fey creature just tricked you into giving them your name. They are now writhing on the ground in agony begging you to take it back. You have no idea what’s going on.
“Please!” The almost human form spat at you while struggling for breath. It’s once pale and soft skin starting to bruise and cut from invisible sources as it’s limbs bend into shapes that cannot be if the structure of its body is made of bone.
“No,” you reply a soft smirk growing wider on your face as you look upon the suffering of this once merciless thing.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited? How long I have searched these woods for something like you? Feigning innocence and confusion until one of you came to help the lost traveler?”
You bend down near to the creature but still out of reach. You have read that the fae would gladly put on a theatrical display to lure you in closer, just within reach to take your face as well as the name you once had.
The now wheezing thing no longer resembles anything that could be described as human. More and more of it’s black as night blood oozing from the now gaping wounds this mound of flesh cries from. With no mouth it’s hard to cry from anywhere else.
“I know what you are, and what you’ve done. 36 people over 10 years. Very bold in my experience. ‘how naive?’ I thought. This one must be new. Without a court to teach them the moderation it takes to not draw the eyes of a wizard who may use them as they sought to use the wizard.”
The writhing had stopped. The only sounds from the thing in front of you are the short shallow gasps of a death approaching. It manages to choke one last thing out. It’s final question.
“…how..?”
“It’s called a ‘deadname’ for a reason.”
“Please!” The almost human form spat at you while struggling for breath. It’s once pale and soft skin starting to bruise and cut from invisible sources as it’s limbs bend into shapes that cannot be if the structure of its body is made of bone.
“No,” you reply a soft smirk growing wider on your face as you look upon the suffering of this once merciless thing.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited? How long I have searched these woods for something like you? Feigning innocence and confusion until one of you came to help the lost traveler?”
You bend down near to the creature but still out of reach. You have read that the fae would gladly put on a theatrical display to lure you in closer, just within reach to take your face as well as the name you once had.
The now wheezing thing no longer resembles anything that could be described as human. More and more of it’s black as night blood oozing from the now gaping wounds this mound of flesh cries from. With no mouth it’s hard to cry from anywhere else.
“I know what you are, and what you’ve done. 36 people over 10 years. Very bold in my experience. ‘how naive?’ I thought. This one must be new. Without a court to teach them the moderation it takes to not draw the eyes of a wizard who may use them as they sought to use the wizard.”
The writhing had stopped. The only sounds from the thing in front of you are the short shallow gasps of a death approaching. It manages to choke one last thing out. It’s final question.
“…how..?”
“It’s called a ‘deadname’ for a reason.”
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