[b]DAY 11: VOMITING BLOOD – SUDDEN SICKNESS[/b]

It was such a lovely autumn day. Trees were showing off their beautiful colors of their leaves, occasionally some foliage gliding down to the ground gracefully, its task for this year now done. An autumn sun was bringing light and warmness to the nature, maybe making the colorful trees look even more stunning. A mild wind was blowing, giving a final touch to this peaceful moment. Kimene was walking in the middle of the trees, smiling happily because of the delightful day which made him feel quite joyful. He was munching on an apple while going forward, humming to himself. He was currently heading to a tomb of some local hero who had their remains laid to rest in the forest. The tomb was open for people to go to see it, had always been so people could pay a visit there and show their respect. Unfortunately, it had been robbed and a bit wrecked by some inconsiderate individuals. Though the hero's remains were still there, untouched. Perhaps even the grave robbers and such knew that a dead man's rest must not be disturbed.

Kimene wanted to see the tomb, because he was collecting material for his book. He was a young folklorist who traveled around the world and studied different folklores people had. He was passionate about this little project of his and enjoyed visiting various locations and meeting new people. And now he had found his way to this beautiful place.

After eating most of the apple, leaving only the core, the deer threw away that fruit's remains. He inhaled the autumn's crisp scent and jogged a bit playfully, like a little fawn, his cloven hooves clopping against the road. He let himself be pretty silly, since there was no one else around. And hey, it wasn't forbidden to have some innocent fun.

Eventually Kimene came across a signpost. It pointed at some narrower path, thus telling him the direction that he should travel if he wanted to get to the tomb. With that, the young deer began to follow this new road.

He was wandering for a good while when the lines of trees suddenly retreated. The road had taken him to a clearing. At the center of everything there stood a mighty and peculiar tree. Its trunk was almost silvery and its leaves had strange reddish color, which was pretty unnatural-looking when compared with regular color some leaves had at this time of the year. At the bottom of the tree there was a small construction made of pale stone, and it almost felt like that the tree was protecting it. That small structure was also where Kimene's road was leading to, so it probably was the tomb he was looking for. The deer was feeling excited and half ran, half jumped toward the resting place of a hero.

When he came to the entrance, he noticed that the tomb continued underground. Right away at the doorway began a short set of stairs that lead to the main chamber. With his magical abilities, Kimene made a small illuminating sphere so he could see around. He descended the stairs and took a good look around him.

There wasn't that much to see, unfortunately. The tomb had probably been filled with treasures and most important belongings of the hero, but now the place was really bare. Basically, there was only the coffin of the deceased warrior. But why did it remain? And in a good condition, too?

The deer walked to the coffin that was resting on an elevated stone table. Curiously he examined it with his gaze, then placing his hand on top of it, wiping a little bit dust off of it. The coffin was made of a really dark stone. Kimene tried if he could get it open. But no matter which way he tried to pry it open, it wouldn't budge. Maybe that was the reason why it had survived all the ransacking. The deer left the coffin alone. But before he could do anything else, something dropped from the ceiling and landed right on top of the coffin, breaking at the impact. It did cause a cloud of dust to form, which Kimene accidentally inhaled, making him cough. And this smell… It was kind of an odd sweet scent. The deer looked at the fallen object: it was like a blueish rock, but completely hollow. Then he glanced up and saw that there were quite a handful of these rocks attached to the ceiling. Maybe this one had just had been a bit loose and randomly fell off. Not thinking more about it, Kimene decided to make his leave. He snapped his fingers to make his little ball of light disappear.

He managed to climb the stairs up and followed the road back to where he had come from. But he started to get a strange feeling. His stomach was aching, and the further he walked, the more intense the pain got. It didn't take long for him to fall on his knees, having his arms around him. Kimene started to get shivers for suddenly feeling cold.

Then he vomited. He got alarmed right away, because it was all blood. He felt even more pain, but he tried to walk – he needed help. He was able to take few weak steps, but then he vomited again, his blood staining the ground. At this point he started to panic. What was happening to him? What was causing this? But he figured out the answer almost immediately: it was that weird dust. It had to be.

Kimene had tears of fear in his eyes as he was trying weakly to take step after step. He didn't want to die. Another bloody vomit came out of his mouth and he dropped on his knees again, panic conquering his mind.

“Somebody… please… help… me…”

The deer collapsed to the ground, losing his consciousness, not knowing if he was going to survive or not.



[b]DAY 12: IMPALEMENT – BRUTAL EXORCISM[/b]

Cold wind was howling among the black stone obelisks that guarded the sacred platform. Snowflakes danced in the freezing air, occasionally invading platform's space, only to be destroyed by the magical fires that were attached to the obelisks. Few figures dressed in black capes were wandering aimlessly and nervously on the root of this grand construction, walking over runes that had been carved to the floor. They muttered something to themselves, clearly waiting for something frightening to happen. Curious crows had found their way to this mystical place, standing on top of the obelisks like guardians. Even they could sense that something unusual was about to be transpired.

Then, an old man wearing a dark green cape appeared. All the people who had been roaming around the platform stopped, and as the old man passed them, they bowed to him out of respect. The elder walked to the center of the circle. And waited. His eyes were locked to the hall that connected to the platform. He was expecting some certain person to come.

He didn't have to wait for long. The corridor got filled with loud noises, like someone shouting their lungs out. A group of people, most of them having the black capes appeared, heading to the platform. In the middle of them there was a different man who just kept yelling nonsense. He was chained and had a strange collar around his neck: it was a little loose and had spikes pointing inwards. There were also four chains attached to it and four men were holding the ends of those chains. The purpose of the collar was probably preventing the wearer rampaging too much, but that didn't seem to stop this man. He had already teared his skin to the spikes as he was raging, having now a bloody neck.

The people streamed to the platform, each knowing their place. A handful of people stayed at the edges of the circle while some others took their places more from the inside. The chained man was led onto the center. There were four hooks on the floor and the four people who had been restraining the man tied the chains to these hooks, forcing the man onto his knees. Everything was almost ready. Only the last people had to take their place in the platform. Few people who were holding a special kind of spears made their way to the circle, now standing around the chained man.

It was time to start the exorcism ceremony.

They hadn't caught this man for no reason. He had been possessed by a very powerful demon and it was up to these people to exorcise it. It was a dangerous task and could end up badly. But they had to try their best, for there was no one else who could do it.

The old man in green cape touched the floor with his hand and right at that moment, a golden light flowed through the runes, lighting them up and making them shine in a pure golden glow. He stood up again and looked at the chained man in front of him, who was grinning widely. This indicated that the demon was accepting this challenge. The old man took few steps back and started to chant something with an ancient language most ordinary people didn't know. Some other people in the background joined him, strengthening the chant. The spearmen prepared to make their move.

The elder clapped his hands together, as a sign to the spearmen. First one muttered a spell, making the blade of his spear glow in a holy blue light. He stepped closer to the possessed man and then struck him with his weapon, impaling his shoulder. The demon just laughed at this attempt. But the ceremony was only beginning.

It was their goal that the possessed poor soul would survive. But in the backs of their minds they all knew that such outcome was unlikely.

The second man with an enchanted weapon impaled the other shoulder. The demon still laughed. Then came the third one, who struck his spear to the stomach. As the chained man was bleeding, the demon shrieked and cursed them all with a diabolic language. When the fourth one thrusted his spear into the chest, the demon was laughing maniacally again and spitting blood everywhere. The fifth holy weapon was struck to the neck, causing he demon gurgle as it tried to mock them or laugh. The possessed man was dead at this point, it was the power of the fiend that still kept the body up.

The sixth spear also impaled the stomach, but went so deep it came out from the back. The body was juddering as the holy power of the spears made the demon writhe in agony. There was only one more blade left. The seventh spearman approached the possessed one and with all the might he had, he impaled the heart of the chained man. The body jerked and the demon let out one final gurgling scream, letting go. The empty, dead corpse fell to the floor.

The chanting stopped. The golden light of the runes faded away. For a little moment, everyone stayed put, all tensed up. But eventually, glee and feeling of accomplishment began to shine on their faces. It seemed that they were victorious. The evil creature had been banished!

Though it had cost a life of an innocent man. People freed his remains from chains and carried away his mutilated body, so it could be transported to his home village and get proper burial.

Everyone started to walk away from the platform and carry on their everyday lives.

But they didn't know that the evil presence was still there, lurking.



[b]DAY 13: GUILLOTINE – DEATH TO THE WICKED PRINCESS[/b]

Night had already fallen and princess Itare was having a nice cup of tea in her tower. She sipped the warm drink every now and then, finding this quite a relaxing moment. It would be perfect if only there wasn't so much noise outside. She could hear a group of people shouting. They sounded angry. She had already sent someone to investigate what was going on, but no one had returned yet. In the room there was only the princess and two guards who, for some reason, looked pretty nervous today.

“Why so worried?” Itare asked them, smiling a little in a charming way.

“A-ah, it's nothing, my lady!” one of the guards answered, clearly being anxious.

But the princess didn't question them further. She hummed a little to herself and was stirring her tea with a golden spoon. Then she sipped it again and looked out of the window. She could see a mass of people invading the courtyard, some of them holding torches. Someone else could probably find this concerning, but not princess Itare.

She could hear hurried footsteps climbing the stairs and then running through the corridor. Next, the door was slammed open by the same servant she had earlier dispatched to investigate.

“Ah, you're back”, Itare stated. “What is this racket?”

The servant was struggling with what kind of emotion to show. He feared the princess, just like everyone else, but he was also bearing great news for all of the citizens. He took few deep breaths, then standing tall on confident and made direct eye contact with her.

“It's your doom approaching, my lady”, the servant said. “It's time for you to pay for your sins and crimes.”

As if having no worries in the world, Itare took one final sip from her tea.

“Such a shame”, she commented. “In few days I was going to host a ball.”

The princess rose from her seat and fluttered the hem of her dress a little. She straightened her posture and had chin upright.

“Well, are you escorting me to them?” Itare asked. “It's rude to keep them waiting.”

“O-of course!” said the stupefied servant.

He stepped aside to make room for the princess. She moved with grace and passed him, slowly beginning to descend the stairs. The servant followed after her. Step by step Itare was walking closer to her demise, but she acted like she was going to attend a great event. So when she had managed to descend down the stairs and walked to the courtyard where all the people who wanted spill her blood had gathered, she was standing there proudly. So proudly that it almost silenced the crowd. It was rumored that she practiced black magic, so people were afraid of her. Itare began to walk among them and they silently made room for her as she got closer to a carriage. A couple of men helped her to get on it and then they started to depart, heading to the center of the village. And she still stood there proudly even though her punishment was at hand.

Itare had been notorious for her sadistic ways. She had seemed like an innocent little girl when she had been a child, but when in her adolescent years her parents – the king and queen – mysteriously died, she became wicked. It was even rumored that she killed them, but this was never proven. Itare had enjoyed watching others suffer – or die. Making the gruesome deed by herself was even sweeter, and whoever were witnessing her doing such things to unfortunate people would start to feel sick. She would take anyone, for any reason, to make them her so called toys. She was feared by everyone and loved by none. And she liked it that way.

The convoy was moving in a steady speed toward the center of the village, the carriage being in the middle of the mass of people. If there had been any other person being transported to their execution place, this would have been the time for people to mock them and throw rotten vegetables at them. But these people still feared Itare, and so the convoy kept moving in almost silence. It was as if they were expecting her to perform black magic at any minute.

But she did nothing. Not anything hostile, not anything to save herself from her fate. She was completely calm and graceful as they came to the execution platform. A guillotine was awaiting her, the blade gleaming in the light of torches. The carriage carried her to the platform and again a couple of men helped her to move, this time getting her off the carriage. Itare took her place on the stage, right next to the execution device. Her gaze wandered all around the crowd.

“Know this”, she then spoke, “that I have always loved every single one of you.”

With these words, she stepped to the bottom of the guillotine's frame by her own will, her head perfectly positioned for the blade to cut it off. One man was already next to the execution device, his hands basically holding Itare's life.

Then he released the blade.

With a swift and clean cut, the head of the princess was detached from her body, her head rolling to the basket. People were holding their breaths. Was Itare's tyranny over?

But suddenly, her body jumped up, striking fear to people's hearts one more time. The bleeding neck was staining the beautiful dress as the body got up. A dark mist had formed above the neck, like a floating head. Itare's laughter could be heard before the mist disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared, the body now becoming lifeless again.

What had just happened? Nobody knew. They just hoped she was gone for good. People started to walk away from the village center, returning their homes, although afraid.

Why had she accepted her demise so calmly? This bothered the villagers.

But who knew, maybe her own death was the ultimate cruel deed she wanted to experience.



[b]DAY 14: PLAGUE – CURSED TOWN[/b]

The days of suffering were upon the town. A simple mistake had been done and that had led to the misery of everyone. The townsfolk hadn't realized that there had been a shapeshifter among them. Some hunters had been out hunting for meat, when they spotted a deer. But they didn't know that this deer had been one of the residents of the town, just in disguise. They shot their arrows and killed him, only afterward realizing they had murdered somebody. As his last breath left his body, he turned back to his human form, much to the shock of hunters. Of course, they did bring his corpse back to town. A small crowd of curious people gathered to see what the hunters had brought with them. One of these people was a young maiden who knew the dead man; in fact, they were lovers. So when she saw the body of the man, grief and anguish overcame her. She burst into tears while embracing her dead lover and after a little while, another emotion surfaced: wrath. She cursed everyone who had been on the spot, and she cursed the whole town. It turned out that she was a witch and the townsfolk soon realized that it's bad to hurt one of that kind.

She conjured a plague that would take over the town. And as she fled the place with her lover's body, she also set up magical barriers around the town so no one could leave. People were still allowed to enter it, but then they would be imprisoned in that death trap. And so began the days of torment. 

Even the skies had turned dark. Unnatural shadowy clouds had appeared, blocking every ray of the sun, preventing them from touching the suffering town. That gave even more despair for the people. The streets were mostly empty as people had locked themselves in their homes, afraid of the plague. But of course, some sick residents had wandered outside in search for help. There were few plague doctors in the town, but they weren't able to help everyone, so some poor souls had died on the streets, and some were suffering in the corners of alleys, moaning from pain.

The witch's plague was horrible. First, people would get fever. They would also get rash that would rapidly get worse and worse, then developing into blisters. These blisters would start to ooze blood and pus as they would grow bigger and more painful. People would also get diarrhea and cough up blood. It was a disease from hell, clearly fit for being a revenge.

How could this curse be lifted? Could it be over only after it had killed everyone?

No one knew, since the witch had left the town.

Now people had to rely on plague doctors.

One of these doctors was walking on the street, not really paying attention to those few sick people he encountered. His service was needed somewhere else: he was traveling to the house of the chief. That man was suffering from the plague, had been for a good while. At this point he was bed-ridden and at the verge of death. It was pretty much just a formality for the doctor to pay one last visit to him.

When the plague doctor was getting closer to the chief's house, he noticed that there was a woman at the window: the chief's wife. Such devotion, she hadn't left her spouse's side. She watched the doctor to get closer to their home and then she ran from the window to the door to let the doctor in. She was looking feverish, he observed. The first stage of plague had struck her too. Without hesitation, she led the plague doctor to their bedroom where her husband was suffering.

“Could you leave us alone?” the doctor asked politely.

The wife nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

The plague doctor stepped next to the bed, examining with his gaze the weak old man who was laying on his bed. The chief coughed a few times, spitting blood. He had bleeding blisters on his face and arms and he was pale like a ghost, as if the death had already claimed his body. He wasn't going to last long.

“Oh, my poor friend”, the plague doctor bemoaned. “You're already at death's door. Let me ease your pain.”

He then took off his mask, revealing the face of a handsome young man. He grinned a little as he bended over the chief. As the doctor's face was hovering over the chief's, the young man opened his mouth: and a snake slithered out of there and slid to the old man's mouth, going down his throat. The chief was gurgling a little, his body shaking as the snake invaded his chest. The snake stole his breath, his spirit, and retreated back through the throat, returning then to the plague doctor's mouth, leaving an empty body behind.

Another delicious agonized soul taken.

The plague doctor put his mask back on. Then he started to make his leave. He opened the bedroom's door and headed to the front entrance, passing the chief's wife on his way.

“He said that he loves you”, the doctor said.

This caused the woman to tear up and hurry to the bedroom. She was going to follow her spouse soon, it seemed like. The doctor smiled a little behind his mask as the thought of another delicious tormented soul becoming ripe excited him. He walked out of the door, then having a stroll around the suffering town.

Now, who was the next in line to die?



[b]DAY 15: CORRUPTED – WRETCHED CHILD OF THE MOON[/b]

He had noticed that his wife had started to act strangely. On some nights, she had snuck away from their bed without waking him up and letting him know where she was going. Then she would come back at dawn. Maybe he should have discussed with his spouse what was going on, but he didn't. He didn't even investigate this matter before the nightly leavings got more frequent. He finally decided to follow his wife. When she next time left the bed and hurried outside, he let her have some distance before he went after her. She ran off the village and headed to the forest. It seemed that she wanted to get as far as possible for some reason. And when she finally stopped, he understood everything.

She began to transform. Suddenly she grew a lot of fur in every part of her body and she became bulkier. She was turning into a monster that wasn't human, but not an animal, either. She became a werewolf. Seeing this, her husband felt a sting in his heart: it appeared that she had tried to get as far as she could from human settlement so she would be less likely to hurt someone. On that night, he made a vow to keep an eye on her so he could prevent her from hurting anyone.

They never spoke about her werewolf curse. During the days they were the happy married couple, but on a lot of nights, they were hunters, just a bit different kind. He had even got a revolver in his hands just so he could scare her away if needed, his goal being that he tried to not hurt her. This worked perfectly fine for a while and for months her only victims were wild animals in the forest.

But her curse was getting worse. She was transforming into werewolf more often, even when she wasn't under the influence of the full moon. This started to show on her everyday life as well. She had become quiet and reserved and despair could be seen from her eyes. The husband wondered should he confront his wife about the werewolf curse. But he never did.

There were some odd ruins in the deep part of the forest. No one was sure what it was for, because just by being in its vicinity, people would get nausea and ringing in their ears, so it was pretty unbearable to be around. But for some reason, in her beast form, she had started to visit those ruins. And of course, he had followed, inspecting her from a safe distance. The strange sick feeling that regular people got didn't seem to affect a werewolf, it appeared. She would rummage around the place, seeking for something. But what, he would never know. She couldn't really remember what had happened while she had been transformed, so basically, she wasn't aware of that, either.

But over time, he noticed that whatever evil lurks in the ruins, it started to have some different effect on his wife. She had started to become somewhat… corrupted. First it appeared as an increased thirst for blood: she would kill anything on her way and not just because of hunger. She had even tried to tear him to pieces and on those moments, he had been forced to shoot her. He didn't have silver bullets, so shooting her shouldn't hurt her too much.

Eventually her corruption started to show more on the outside as well. She became very skinny and her fur turned more thin and grey. Her claws got longer, her fangs larger. Even in her human form she had some changes: she lost weight and looked tired and sick all the time. She was withering. And he didn't know what to do about it. If he spoke about her curse to anyone, villagers would hunt her down and kill her. He was helpless.

In the end, however, he started to think that death could be her salvation. He didn't want to lose her, for he loved her so much, but her pain was too much to bear. Though, if he embraced death as well, they could join each other in the afterlife…

For that night, he had prepared with silver bullets. He followed his wife one more time to the forest, where she would perform her transformation. Surveying from the shadows that agonizing minute, she had turned into a beast for the last time. At this point, her body was so gaunt due to corruption. She was basically just skin and bones, her fur thin and she had bald patches here and there. There were bleeding wounds all over her body as if something had mauled her and a huge part of her skin in her face had got torn off, showing a little bit of her skull.

The husband's heart was breaking from this sight. Why his sweet wife had got such curse upon her?

With tears in his eyes, he stepped forward from the shadows to face his dearest monster. She noticed him and let out a loud roar before sprinting at him, ready to strike. He aimed his revolver at her and when she was just few meters away, he pulled the trigger, shooting a silver bullet that would bring salvation to his poor wife. The bullet hit her in the head, killing her instantly. Her body dropped to the ground. Within few seconds, her body started to change and she turned back into human. He stepped next to the body and caressed the cheek of his beloved wife. The wound from a bullet was bleeding abundantly.

“I'm really sorry”, he whispered.

Then he pointed the gun at his own head. One more time he pulled the trigger and shot himself, hoping that he would meet his wife again in an afterlife.