This story is a story inspired by the upcoming Halloween season! Surely the Regalian citizens take notice of this and tell scary tales to scare those so intrepid to listen. I won't write these often but I'll try my hardest to write interesting horror stories. These stories are inspired by how "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" series. Where a person tells a scary story. This is rather similar but Regalian themed! Taking advantage of the vampire infection, possessed individuals malicious and lustful, vilitatei deranged beyond recognition, and much more! Not that I will be able to cover all the aforementioned themes. I hope you enjoy reading these!
It was around sundown in a tavern, located among one of the most busiest streets. One walking down the road wishing for a drink will see the leaves turning red as they readied themselves to perish for their branch when winter came. One could notice, in the tavern so busy in the night's coming, an old man wearing a black cloak, scars along his face, holding a cane with a golden hilt. He held a hat holding a few regals, looking around often, at times locking his gaze with someone asking with the same raspy words, "Come sit and I shall tell you a story, just offer one Regal and my tale is yours." he said with a toothy grin. Slowly as he invited people to gather around, people came to gather around the sinister-looking man. Bobbing his hand holding the hat full of coin, each metal coin making a wonderful chime. Once the man seemed satisified, he slid the cap near his seat, and pulled down his glove. He spoke with a confident demeanor behind the words, and spoke, "Ah thank you all! It's good to know people love to hear stories as the night comes upon our city. When night comes dreadful things like to roam our streets, the night shading their misdeeds. I have experienced these misdeeds, and shall tell them through tales. Please pass the bottle, friend."
The man started drinking from the bottle, and he started, "Three companions they were, each not similar in the slightest from another. An Ailor, a Cielothar, and a Qadir. Each of these companions knew each other better than they knew of themselves. Each Thursday night they would come to a tavern much like the one we are all in now, each would order one drink and one drink only, when they finished they all walked the same street looking at the night sky talking of their lives. It was on a night that was at it's darkest, the three friends heard a screech that echoed throughout the barren street, no one heard this screech but the unfortunate three. Immediately the Ailor beckoned the other two and followed the noise without a thought. His friend followed reluctantly, along the way trying to convince the madman that they should approach much more carefully. Could you pass along the bottle?"
"It didn't take long for the friends to come across the origin of the cries of terror, but nothing more made a sound. In the dark street nothing could be seen. When the clouds parted making way for the full moon's light, a corpse was found on the street. The Cielothar let out a cry, having the least strong spirit of the three, not able to bear the scene of one's death. She toppled to the ground unable to respond to the concern's of her friends. The Qadir man cared for the small nelfin to be certain her still body wouldn't be harmed by natural occurrences of the mortal world. Meanwhile the Ailor most inquisitive took charge and inspected the body, being a former military inspector himself. The body had no traces of blood, only the street soaked up what blood was missed from the corpse. Despite the lack of blood on the body, large cuts were found on the body's neck! What sort of man could do something to this poor innocent person, for the deepest depths of the night could truly tell the truth of this murder. No military were in sight, and the barracks were much too far to even begin reporting before the killer was gone. The Cielothar finally gained back any signs of life and heaved herself from the Qadir's arms, mustering the stomach to see the horror before her, and lo! She saw what the Ailor did not see, what could be the blood of the victim took shape of boots along the bricks. She dashed forward following the plausible horrid steps of the killer. The others followed, but their chase came to an end when the bloody steps stopped. It appears the killer ran much too far to be tracked down for a long distance. The companions were stopped at a dead end, nothing in sight, only a few piles of mortal waste and buckets of filthy water, containing equally as filthy rags. The three friends decided they shouldn't go no further and retreated to their homes, safe for the Qadir whom reported the cruelty. The next morning the streets were put in heavy military activity, searching high and low for the killer's potential home. Please pass along that bottle, my throat's dry."
"Ahem. The very next Thursday, the friends never stopped coming to the same tavern. They spoke of their lives and had drunken the same drinks they always do. But they decided to go another rout, since their own was far too dangerous. They wanted their next walk to be safe and relaxing. But, it was no later when they found out, their fates would be less calming than they wished it to be. It was a man in a cloak from behind that assaulted the Qadir! With a cry of pain and a gasp for air when he was felled by the impending attack. The Ailor and the Cielothar turned about to see what had become of their friend. Their questions were soon answered when their friend's neck was cut, a dark man slumped over it. But what was he doing? The friends were too frightened to see and ran! They ran as fast as they could! The chilling night beat their faces like daggers but this didn't stop them. In their hearts they wished they could save their beloved friend, but they knew he was beyond saving, not without becoming much like him and perishing miserable deaths. The two ran and eventually were stopped by an alleyway. But this was familiar, how could it be so familiar? Was that the same buckets of filthy water? The same piles of rubbish? This couldn't be where they stopped the last time they came. They barely took note and hid, for the creature that attacked them could be following the unfortunate two. Hrm, please pass the bottle over here, eh?"
"Many moments had passed, neither the Cielothar nor Ailor wanted to move, their fear made them as useless as a stone at the bottom of a lake, cold, wet, and lost. It wasn't long when heavy boots thumped on the ground. The Cielothar wanted to screech but the Ailor closed her mouth before she could make a sudden noise. The thumps became closer, and stopped to the pile of rubbish. They both yelled at the same time when the rubbish around them parted, accepting their fates. But they stopped, confused, because they felt nothing of harm. They both looked up and saw a guard with a face as stoic as the rock face of a mountain. The gentleman said with a stern tone, 'You two shouldn't be here, this street is under strict watch of the Regalian guard- hey, aren't you the two who witnessed the murder?' the two friends didn't deny it. They explained what happened and an investigation was sent on the street where they were before, but nothing was found. An hour later the friend heard there was nothing there, and came out of the alleyway, finally brave enough to stand and walk outside. It was the same street they followed the blooded prints. They aimed to leave the area, passing by where the corpse was. The two friends were shocked as they glanced at the corpse. It was the Qadir! The Qadir lain dead on the street in the place of whom they saw before. The two wandered off questioning each other's sanity as well as their own sanity. For they could have sworn they saw their friend alive. What delusion could have happened that fooled them into thinking their friend was still alive a week later. They went back to the tavern to drink away their sorrows, but they overheard two talking of the murder, they said, 'You hear of the murder last night? I hope they caught the killer.' Hearing that the murder was just last night shocked the two! For their memory said it was a week ago."
The old man ceased his story, and smiled with a satisfied sigh. He turned to one of the people in the crowd as they retorted, "You said you witnessed this before. How could you expect us to believe that ridiculous corny story!" The old man chuckled softly as he replied, "You have every right to deny my story. I am after all a delusional Ailor."
