>You race through the darkened corridors of the maintenance tunnels
>Well, race isn’t the proper verb to use
>It’s more like a speedy hobble in the sticky heat
>But it’s progress, despite how blurry everything is
>And how blurry your thinking feels
>Curious
>That’s all it is to you
>Curious
>Certainly not concerning
>But you feel that worry like a shard of ice against your bare skin
>Pain hammers behind your eyes, and your body feels like broken glass
>But time is of the essence, as each labored step through the darkness drags you closer and closer to the altar
>Sam is breathing hard, and to be fair, you’re practically gulping air
>Christ it gets hot up here
>”A-A-Anon, I c-c-can smell blood…” Sam’s voice is a high whine. “I-It’s really st-strong.”
>Careful not to drop the books or the slip of glass, you feel the back of your head, and gasp when you feel how wet with fresh blood it is
>Christ
>”O-Oh God,” Sam shudders. “A-A-Are you al-alright?”
“Yes,” you lie through clenched teeth. “Just keep p-pushing forward. I think we’re almost t-there.”
>In truth the pain is like a millstone around your neck
>Your heavy head and bruised up body want to collapse into the heat, to lay down and succumb to everything
>Death is a warm blanket
>You won’t allow yourself that comfort
>Not yet
>The fire-light glow of the room calls to you like a torch in the dark
>At the end of the hall, you see orange light slanting around a sharp corner, reflecting off the old copper pipes
“I think we’re almost there,” you say as you two hobble into the light
>You try smiling at Sam, but a lancing arc if pain drills right down from your head to your feet
>You halt in place and grit your teeth, body trembling as little tremors rip through you
>”A-Anon-” Sam looks up and gasps. “Y-Your head!”
>You again feel the back of your skull
>Oh Christ
>There’s so much blood
>And what’s more, you can feel a terrific gash
>”A-Anon we need to s-s-s-stop,” Sam says as she slides out and away from you
“We can’t-” Another wave of nausea and pain. “-Not here, not now.”
>”J-Just take it easy a-a-alright?”
>Her voice is so distant as you check your phone
>11:57
>You hear is a dull buzzing sound, like a swarm of locusts in your ear
>Those dark stars are back in the corners of your vision, pulling further and further inward
>You gasp sharply when they cloud your vision completely, sending them back to your peripherals, the way that a shoreline recedes in the electrified minutes before a tsunami
>You can see it now, as the narrow hallway opens up into a low, familiar room
>Strange etching and carvings adorn the walls, with a flame-written ‘31’ glowing large and bright like a neon sign
>And in the center of the room: the stone basin, still a shallow pool of blood in it
>You throw your hands onto the basin’s rim for support as another wave of agony overwhelms you
>Your lungs feel like they can’t get enough air
>You gasp
>And gasp
>And gasp
>And gasp
>Until the color returns to the room, all orange and pink, but tinged at the edges with gray and black
>The books and the glass shards fall from your shaking hand
>”H-H-Here.” Sam scoops them up and hands them to you. “P-Please t-t-take them, y-y-you’re the only one w-w-who knows what to d-d-do.”
>She wrings her ears
>You allow the books to fall into the center of the altar, where they are promptly saturated by Sam’s old blood
>Fuck
>Fuckity fuck fuck
>With shaking hands you flip open The Book of Rite, searching for that page about banishing
>But Christ, everything is so blurry, and your heart is racing so fast
>”An-Anon, here.” Sam holds her wrist above the altar, her sleeves pushed down her thin arms
>In her right hand is the jagged slice of glass
>Sam locks eyes with you and nods
>”T-Tell me w-when.” She steadies her shaking voice
>Fresh blood
>It has to be fresh
>You’ve been staring at the pages for too long
>You blink away the dark stars as your blood soaked fingers leaf through the pages of The Book of Rite
>It’s here
>It’s… somewhere in the middle
>11:58
>God, wouldn’t it be poetic to die at exactly midnight?
>Your hands are trembling too bad
>You’ve lost too much blood
>You’re concussed
>So just give up the ghost
>The world goes gray
>And then starts to get a bit darker
>How you’re remaining upright is anyone’s guess
>11:59
>A delicate furry hand starts leafing through the pages in front of you
>And you can see on the pages that same, torturous, spidery scrawl
>An old type of cursive written in fragmented pen
>And Sam points to a heading that’s faded with age
>”I-Is this i-it?” She says
>You hear her voice, but she sounds like he’s yelling across a canyon
>You read the heading, eyes bouncing around the scrawled cursive
>’Banishment’
>A smile spreads across your face — a wild, delirious smile
>You look up at Sam
>That dumb bunny
>That stupid, amazing, lovable, dumb bunny
>Your mind shears into two, like a glacier being cleaved in half
>You’re not sure what you’re going to say next, but your mouth starts working anyway
>You nod towards her exposed wrist and the trembling shard of glass hovering just above delicate fur
“R-Remember, ac-across the s-street, not d-down the lane.”
>A quick slash
>Sam gasping, reflexively clutching at her wound
>A steady trickle of blood saturates the page
>Light explodes from the old pressed parchments
>You shut your eyes and exhale
>You’re whipped onto your ass by an other-worldly force
>You and Sam both go tumbling down (tumbling down) (tumbling down)
>The two books ascend into the air, dripping with blood as their pages spin and explode in fractals of light
>You can only watch with gaped maws as the world coalesces and then spreads apart right before your eyes
>The ground shakes beneath you as you struggle to stand upright
>You are quickly cut down by a series of jarring tremors that are so violent you can feel them in your teeth
>So you just lay on your back
>Like a dying fish
>And watch as the world trembles and shakes as your vision collapses into stuttering pulses
>You’re wide awake
>You think
>You don’t know anymore
>Until Sam crawls on top of you
>And then you know you’re awake (or at least alive)
>Or was she always on top of you and now you’re just gaining consciousness?
>Your eyes struggle open
>You feel her delicate frame on top of your own, like a heavy feather pillow
>It feels like with her there, all the tremors stop
>The books fall uselessly back into the altar’s center
“Sam?” Your voice is weak and tinged with exhaustion. “W-Why are you laying on top of me?”
>You cough out some dust and grit
>”Y-Y-You were sh-shaking,” she answers back
>But when you look up, her eyes are filled with tears
>They streak and cut down her dirty fur in mirrored lines
>It’s almost kind of beautiful, in a weird way
“Stop crying you big baby,” you say, half-joking
>The rest of you isn’t sure what exactly you’re trying to say
>”A-A-A-And you’re st-still bleeding.”
>To your surprise, she throws her arms around your neck and dips her face against your chest
>You can feel another type of tremor:
>Sam, shaking against you with heavy relived sobs
>”I d-d-don’t want to l-l-lose you,” she cries. “G-G-God p-please be alright.”
>You open your mouth to speak, which feels like a monumental effort
>Like your jaw was weighted shut
>So you don’t talk
>Just let the waves of unconsciousness take you, like a small boat being carried out to sea, as your vision goes to gray
>Sam is talking again, but you can barely hear her
>She sits up and scrubs her eyes with the back of her sleeves
>She tries to put on a determined and strong face
>”D-D-Don’t m-move. I-I’m g-g-going to g-g-g-get help…”
>But when she meets your darkening eyes, her strong front shatters like a dam suddenly bursting
>”A-Anon-” she bites her lower lip and swallows the lump in her throat. “P-Please s-s-stay with me.”
>You’re trying
>You want to live
>Because, if nothing else, you have something you need to tell her
>”I-I l-love you s-s-s-so much.”
>Your mouth forms the words, but no sound comes out:
‘I love you too.’
>Sam spends a few more heartbeats staring into your eyes, before she leans in, plants a faint kiss on your forehead, and then rolls off you
>She stands tall (or as tall as she can with a broken leg) and leans onto a carved up wall for support
>”I-I’ll b-b-be back, o-okay?”
>She doesn’t wait for you to respond, not only because you really can’t right now, but because there’s no time
>She hobbles off down the hall, out of the reach of the slowly declining light
>The world turns beneath you, as if you were balanced on a spinning top set in motion at the explosive dawn of the universe
>And with the last molecules of consciousness now buzzing around you like flies as entropy quashes all motion, a wave of sadness and despair washes over you
>It’s not that you’re afraid to die
>You’re just afraid to lose her
>You exhale
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pfi1UQ_PKQI&list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J&index=18&t=0s
>…
>…..
>…….
>…….
>…..
>…
>…
>…..
>…….
>…….
>…..
>…
>..
>.
The Leaves of Fall Act 3: Something That Matters (Part 25)
You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.
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About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
4 years ago
100 Views
0 Likes
Estimated reading time
8 Minutes
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