conversations with ghosts
a mix to keep you awake and alert to all the creatures surrounding your mind. they’re all waiting for their turn. in the dark. they all have stories to tell. they all have ears and eyes and hands to caress your neck.
best experienced at night with earphones on.
this mix is meant to scare you, listen at your own risk.
The girl was putting up quite a fight. But it was nothing compared to supernatural vigour. There was no challenge in her frantic struggling. He dragged her as though she were feather-light, fingers clamped around her limbs with unrelenting consistency. She would wear herself out, soon enough.
He did not bother to reassert his command, and neither did he see fit to inflict punishment until her behaviour became more satisfactory. She was merely an unwanted object in his way; the less effort and time wasted here, the better. They did indeed pass through an alleyway, emerging into a street that led directly to the East Side. Here there were no crowds. Trees towered at the road’s edge, paving the way to the Vampires’ Gates like gnarled columns.
Frantic fingers pulled at the ones holding her captive, her body held against a cool body she had yet to recognize. The unparalleled strength only proceeded to to spiral her mind deeper and deeper into the states of insanity she tries so hard to suppress. Sounds of struggle fall from her lips, slowly turning from angered to panicked mews of fear as she was dragged further and further from her original spot.
“Let go!”, she screamed again, her body thrashing against the cooled figure, the tall gates coming into view, tall and winding. Those metal columns with their intricate designs only spurred her fear more, images of the dark gates of hell flashing against her vision. It was as if she could feel those demon’s claws on her tattered soul once more, and she just wanted to get away. A tightened grip pulled a cry of pain from her lips, stilling her trashing for a moment, her feet scraping again the ground for some form of leverage to get away.
A single tear trekked down the wolfs cheek. Danielle’s mind race with possible solutions to try and help Roslyn, but still she came up blank. At the sound of her name her head shot up, nodding vigorously. “Yes Ros, I’m here,” she started, interrupted by someone picking up Roslyn without so much as a word, leading her away from the obvious crowd that had been forming. Danielle had no choice to follow, assuming this man was hired by Roslyn’s Master in order to protect her. In the safety of the alley she crouched down by the girl again, tentative fingers brushing a few stray locks away from her face. “Ros, are you alright? Can, can you tell me what happened?”
At the foot of the alley the guard stood, his back turned to the two and instead more focused on keeping the creatures of the city at bay. "Car crash", she hissed out, fingers threaded in her hair as she gripped at the strands harshly. Though the situation seemed dire, there were things to be glad of; one being that there was nothing sharp within Roslyn’s reach, surely if there was blood would have already been split. The urge to scream bubbled in her throat again, only to be held back by the fridge air sucked into her lungs. Truly she was lost, even the fixed point that Dani was acting as was fading slowly.
"It is," he replies. The statement is truthful; he has no cause for complaint, this evening. He has not strayed far from his home, and thus he has not encountered any undesirable beings. Roslyn is, in fact, the first citizen with whom he has spoken. With a slow blink, he faintly smiles. It is a glimmer of a curl, rapidly fading to leave him as stern-faced as ever. "Are you unable to leave the porch? We could converse more easily if you were to come closer."
The sliver of a smile does not go unnoticed, Roslyn picks up on the small detail and stores it away in her mind. Small expressions have become a constant for her, Darius’ stone face breaking from time to time and she has learned to watch for them, greedily soaking up what pleasantries she can. “My master has forbidden me to leave the house past 8pm, the cities true colors come out to play then. So yes, I am unable”, she breathes out, a nod of her head given and also her lips curled as his did before, though her smile lingered a bit longer. It drops when a scream is heard in the distance, her head turning swiftly towards the far off sound. “Yes, unable.”
"Doesn’t matter, does it?" His arm returned over her shoulder when her attention went back to the cashier, "Uh. Hot cocoa, no whip cream please." He grinned, giving the cashier a quick wink. Though he rarely shared words with Rosie before he returned, RJ liked to think that they were friends — at the very least, he hoped the girl liked him enough. He was sure Roslyn probably had questions for him; they all did. How was he back? Where did he go? Why is he back? All of which RJ had avoided talking about. "Bro.. Extra marshmallow please."
Once tense shoulder relaxed under his touch, her mind still perplexed on how he was standing here in the first place, but she had learned to not question the unknown. So instead Roslyn turned her attention back to the cashier who finally took her money, moving behind the counter to assemble their drinks. A caramel cappuccino is what she settled for. Her eyes were locked on the man as he moved around, less he spit in their drinks or something of that nature. Nothing occurred and she grasped the two drink, turning to RJ to place his in his hands before she started to move towards the door, wondering where he was going after this. “Welcome back to purgatory.”
Firm hands wrapped the slave’s arms, dragging her wilting figure to her feet. The King’s pet must not be seen in such disarray, and neither must she be left open to the claws of others. The City’s citizens are hungry, starving for sorrow and the destruction of others. He ought to know. For he is one of those forsaken creatures.
A whispered command. He pushed her onward, parting the crowd that had gathered like crows around a dying lamb. There was no gentleness; necessity only spurred him on, patience and empathy non-existent.
Cold and unfamiliar fingers wrapped themselves around Roslyn’s arms and only in turn produced a bigger onslaught of images. She thought his fingers were the glass digits of the faceless figures that followed her each day. They never touched her but it seemed they could this day, the glass digging into he skin as she withered helplessly in Erebus’ grasp. The crowd did not go unnoticed, she instead saw them as she saw Erebus, faceless figures with glass fingers, the figures she’s seen everyday of her life.
"No!", she screamed at the command, for these figures had never talked before. Harder and harder she struggled, the medicine she had taken this morning was not in reach nor would it be helpful at this moment. An episode had been long over due. Forward she was dragged, the scene before her eyes blurring but she believed them to be in an alley way. Still her fingers pulled at his, seeking freedom.
This was the worst that Danielle had ever seen her best friend, kneeling on the floor and oblivious to the world around her. Whatever was happening inside of the blonde’s one head, she couldn’t shake her free from it. Danielle had been warned about this, both from Roslyn and the King of Covaire. Still, it was different experiencing it person, shaking the poor slave to her core. The screaming was unbearable, the pure anguish was like sticking hot pokers inside of Danielle’s skull. But she refused to move away from the blonde, fingers trembling as they did their best to smooth away the blonde tresses. “It’s alright Roslyn, you-you don’t have to worry anymore, I’m here. I can help. I’m not going to hurt you. You just have to ignore whatever those voices are telling you.”
Roslyn clutched desperately at her ears, trying to block out any and everything around her. She could feel the heat of the fire from the crash on her back, the glass piercing her skin and she just wanted it to stop. Was that really so much to ask for? Tears were leaking out of her eyes as her body trembled in the middle of the sidewalk. Citizens were starting to stare and who could really blame them. Their eyes on her back only added to her panic, thou a soft voice found its way through the dense storm. “Dani…”, she mumbled out, the images still not fading, but reality was slipping through the seams. Slowly she began to look up, wanting to see a clear face, but the bodyguard she had with her at all times had finally caught up and wrapped his arms around her waist, hoisting her up and pulling her out of direct view. Roslyn trashed against him, the flood only getting worse until he let her down in an alley, away from the curious eyes.
Danielle had once again managed to escape the four walls of the Chateau, something she was becoming increasingly skilled at each time she was sent back. Wandering the city of Covaire a familiar scent hit her nostrils, sending the wolf sprinting in the direction it was wafting from. Far from her Masters home she found Roslyn on the sidewalk, keening and covering her eyes. Concern clouded Danielle’s eyes as she winced, kneeling at her best friends side. ”Ros, Ros, can you hear me?”
She couldn’t stop, it was if the screams were bubbling inside her for years and she just had to let it out. The more she screamed, the more she saw. Those faceless figures that were constantly at her side were now crowded around her, their glass fingers scrapping at her skin and only producing a louder sound from her lips. Roslyn Gossard was a mad women, people often forgot that because it was hidden and she was tucked away in her masters home. That crash triggered something buried deep and she honestly didn’t know how to suppress it again. She heard a voice, but couldn’t distinguish it past her own screams. She didn’t dare look up, in fear of what she would see.