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Wickermoon

Where's the fun in that?
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The same new generation by Wickermoon, literature

A Story of January by Wickermoon, literature

A tribute to old times... by Wickermoon, literature

WarTorn - Chapter 2.4 by Wickermoon, literature

Secret by Wickermoon, literature

Use Somebody by Wickermoon, literature

Wire to Wire by Wickermoon, literature

Where I Stood by Wickermoon, literature

Final Act by Wickermoon, literature

Verlangen by Wickermoon, literature

See All

The same new generation by Wickermoon, literature

A Story of January by Wickermoon, literature

A tribute to old times... by Wickermoon, literature

WarTorn - Chapter 2.4 by Wickermoon, literature

WarTorn - Prologue by Wickermoon, literature

aycia's good night fairytale by Wickermoon, literature

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Deviation Spotlight

The same new generation by Wickermoon, literature

Artist // Hobbyist // Literature
  • Germany
  • Deviant for 17 years
  • He / Him
Badges
Super Llama: Llamas are awesome! (22)
My Bio

Hobby writer and dungeon master, with a knack for writing his own campaign books, classes, sub-classes, monsters and whatnots.


I'm always searching for art for my campaign books, while listening to all sorts of music.


Favourite Visual Artist
Ayce-of-Spades or Malleni
Favourite Movies
The Big Lebowski, Lord of War, The Dead Don't Die
Favourite TV Shows
Stranger Things, GLOW
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
MetallicA, Iron Maiden
Favourite Books
Silmarillion, Black Company, 1984
Favourite Writers
Shakespeare, Tolkien, Pratchett
Favourite Games
Pen&Paper Roleplaying Games (D&D, Shadowrun, Fragged Empire, etc.)
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC
Tools of the Trade
Computers of all kinds =)
Other Interests
Music, Games, Guitars, Programming, Roleplaying, Sports, Books

Profile Comments 92

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the story would be spectacular, first he enters the house, entranced that the old building is in such good condition, when suddenly he almost jumps right out of his skin as a crash of lighting flashes through the old windows. He holds his chest as the roll of thunder passes by and the beat of the rain is now steady again against the old wooden planks of the house.

As he looks around he see's firelight glow through the cracks of an old beaten down door covered in musky vines and moss. He slowly reaches for the door handle, his heart beating fast in his chest. He does not know who is behind the door in such an old and supposedly abandoned house.

The door handle creeks as his shaking hand turns it slowly. The rusty door hinges scream into the air and he looks timidly in the room. There in the shadows of the fireplace, where a beautiful warm glowing fire cracks and dances in the drenched air, sits a singular chair, it's back to him.

"Hello?" he calls out to someone. He can't see them, but he knows someone is there, his senses tell him that much. "I don't mean to intrude, I was lost in the rain and I saw the house. I hope you don't mind me coming in without asking, I'm terribly sorry."

The figure stirs in the chair, a dark mass against the light of the black room. "Um hello? Are you alright?" he asks, entering the room more. Maybe the person is deaf, or mute, and cannot answer him because he doesn't know he is there.

Suddenly the figure moves, and turns to him. His breathe catches in his throat and his mouth gaps open. He wants to gasp, he wants to scream his lungs out, but a silent cry escapes his mouth and only leaves him desperately mute.

For there, staring back at him, was not a figure, but a black shadow. Dark dripping vines hung from it's shapeless body. A pure white mask was it's only face, with two haunting black holes that stared at him blankly.

He was frozen in fear and suddenly smelt the acid stench in the air. He quickly drew back wanting to run, wanting to flee back into the rain and the night.

The figure drew forward and now he saw the true girth of the creature, it's body growing and growing from the shadows.

He fled from the room, running from the figure who was now advancing towards him, and ran back into the pouring rain of the black night.
As he burst through the door, he was came shockingly to a halt. A face as big as the house itself was floating in front of the porch and only after a while did he realize, that it was a mass of bats that had tricked him. Wouldn't he have known better, he would've thought they did so intentionally. Only now creeped that shadow figure back into his mind and with a crazed look he turned around, almost anticipating to find it right behind him. But it was gone, nowhere to be seen.
Instead he now heard faint voices; laughter and chatter which rejoiced his heart. So there was someone else and this dark shadow was but a creature of his imagination. Slowly he turned around, closing the door once more behind him. And just as the door clicked into place and he turned around he found himself in a fully lit room, with a big chandelier hanging from the ceiling, its brilliants glittering with every colour, and a sole man in a frock standing at the upper end of the staircase, looking down at him with as much dignity as humility.
"I think we have a guest and I shall...inform the master and the mistress. If you would be so kind, good sir, as to wait for an entourage, I will send a maid to take care of your clothes and a most agreeable woman to take care of your loneliness. For the master is giving a ball and it would be most rude to join this beauteous celebration alone."
With that said he turned around, not waiting for an answer and climbed one of the second, much smaller flight of stairs that went left and right from the little platform he had been standing on seconds ago and towards the interior balustrade behind which he disappeared. The opening and closing of a doof informed only of his going.
He waited silently as he heard a bustle of footsteps move above him. Suddenly three figures showed up by his side. They all wore deathly colored masks and were dressed in a fashion that meant they were the servants to dress him. They led him down a hallway and into a room where a tailor was waiting on him.

He wore the same deathly mask, a white glow on his entirely black wardrobe. As he was being fitted for what he guessed was ball attire he saw a lone figure enter the room.

He turned slightly from the mirror and the hollow gazes of the staff to look at who had entered the room.

It was a girl, he could tell that much from her beautiful figure. She had long dark tresses of curls cascading down her shoulders, but alas, no face for him to gaze upon, for she wore a mask as well, only this time, he could faintly tell two oval eyes as blue as the sea staring back at him. He was mesmerized only for a second as the tailor pulled him back to stand straight as he made finishing touches to the garment.

He turned around and could hear faint whispers of the approval of his looks. He walked towards the girl, trying to keep himself from waking from this dream he had fallen into.

The girl slipped her arm around his and they made their way to the grand ballroom. The theme must have been a masked ball, which would explain why everyone was wearing masks but himself. The girl quickly pushed a mask against his face, a funny old plague doctors mask, and began dancing with him.

He couldn't see the host of this mysterious affair as he tried to glance several different ways to spot a crowd around a singular person. The girl quickly pulled his face towards hers and whispered in a quick hush tone.

"You must get out of here! For they will keep you if you stay much longer!" she said in a panic "You strayed from the path because of the rain? Correct?"

He looked at her astonished "How did you know?"

She looked away, making sure not a person was listening. "They did the same to me, they lured me here and have kept me since, you must leave before you become a slave to him!"

"Come away with me then! We will escape together!" he said not knowing why. The earthly nightingale voice of the girl had made his heart long to hear it in a different calm way. A wave of courage had come over him and the offer to help her escape had flew from his lips without his consent.

Suddenly the music stopped, and the two were greeted by the host of the ballroom. The wave of courage suddenly disappeared as the figure drew close to him and whispered...
Argh, sorry for not replying for about...oh too long, I daresay.

Anyway, it's a beautiful text but I think this deserves better than to degenerate here in some lowly comment no one except the two of us will check on. :3

We should do a joint venture :D
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dank dir fürs faven.
immer gerne ^_^
Thihi. Vielen Dank fürs Sternchen :hug: