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emptynarration:

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Eve was making some tea for Host, having been coming over more frequently. Humming to herself while pouring the hot water into the cup she felt a strangeness to the house. She didn’t know why, but the vibe of the house had been changing. It felt..off. Like something was bound to happen, but what she had no idea. Gently taking Host’s cup in her hand she walked out of the kitchen. “Tea is ready, Host.” She set it down in front of him and noticed he was touching his bandaged eyes. “Host? Is something the matter?”

Host was glad when she let go of him, letting her give him the painkillers. The back of his fingers were a little bloody from being pressed against the bloody bandages. He took the pills with the tea she had made, hoping that they’d work. He doubted it, but he still hoped.

His form flickered for not even a second, and he winced in pain again, hunching over and pressing his hands against his eyes again. It hurt, everything hurt.
“Please..”, he mumbled and managed a small nod. Maybe static would help a little. He hoped so, he kept old radios around just for that.

This time, Eve saw the flickering form. She thought maybe it was just her eyes, but she could’ve sworn she saw it. Quickly getting up she turned on a couple old radios in the room, letting the static sound fill the usually silent room. Biting her lip, she nervously rubbed her arm. Should she tell him about the flickering? She ran to the bathroom and grabbed a few bandages and rags for him, when he was feeling good enough to change his bandages. She came back and set them on the table.

“For when you’re feeling better.” She mumbled, sitting down and trying to think of anything that could help him. She didn’t know, and she hated that she couldn’t help him. What was she supposed to do? He didn’t want her to comfort him, touching him or hugging him was not an option, she gave him tea and meds, and static, but she had no idea if that would help or make it worse. She had no idea, she was pretty much worthless at this point. 

“Host….you don’t usually….flicker. But I’m pretty sure I just saw your form flicker in and out of existence, almost like you weren’t actually there.” She finally said, her voice soft. 

Host’s lips were moving in silent narrations, curled tightly into himself, breathing a tad bit harder than before. Memories filled his head, too many, two in the same place, and it hurt. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, and if he were able to observe this instead of going through it, he’d know what was happening.

He gasped sharply, multiple images of his like a too brightly lit copy of himself flickered in his stead -reminding of Dark’s shell cracking and showing multitudes of him. But these were mostly lagging behind Host, flickering every few moments, staying but for seconds. His nose was bleeding, dripping on the ground.

ask-bethany-and-dark:

Eve was making some tea for Host, having been coming over more frequently. Humming to herself while pouring the hot water into the cup she felt a strangeness to the house. She didn’t know why, but the vibe of the house had been changing. It felt..off. Like something was bound to happen, but what she had no idea. Gently taking Host’s cup in her hand she walked out of the kitchen. “Tea is ready, Host.” She set it down in front of him and noticed he was touching his bandaged eyes. “Host? Is something the matter?”

Host was glad when she let go of him, letting her give him the painkillers. The back of his fingers were a little bloody from being pressed against the bloody bandages. He took the pills with the tea she had made, hoping that they’d work. He doubted it, but he still hoped.

His form flickered for not even a second, and he winced in pain again, hunching over and pressing his hands against his eyes again. It hurt, everything hurt.
“Please..”, he mumbled and managed a small nod. Maybe static would help a little. He hoped so, he kept old radios around just for that.

ask-bethany-and-dark:

emptynarration:

ask-bethany-and-dark:

Eve was making some tea for Host, having been coming over more frequently. Humming to herself while pouring the hot water into the cup she felt a strangeness to the house. She didn’t know why, but the vibe of the house had been changing. It felt..off. Like something was bound to happen, but what she had no idea. Gently taking Host’s cup in her hand she walked out of the kitchen. “Tea is ready, Host.” She set it down in front of him and noticed he was touching his bandaged eyes. “Host? Is something the matter?”

“They hurt.”, Host mumbled. He was hunched over, balling his hands into fists over his eyes. It hurt badly, and it reminded him of- of what? He couldn’t remember, which confused him. Trying to think too much about it hurt. 

“Something’s happening and-”, he wasn’t sure. “…Don’t know..”, he finished more or less. His whole head hurt, remembering anything hurt.
His whole form seemed to flicker, just a bit, for a split second.

Eve looked to him concerned, sitting down next to him and gently setting her hand on his fist. 

“Hey its okay, take a deep breath. Let’s see…” She set both her hands on each side of his head, gently rubbing his temples with her thumbs while feelng his head. Usually most people looked at her weird for doing this, but this was the host. The man had an act for unordinary things happening to him. 

“Is it like a pressure headache, we are supposed to get a big storm tonight. I can bring you some pain meds, the strong kind if its as bad as you think.” She lifted his head a bit, setting one of her hands on his cheek and brushing her thumb on the underline of his bandages. They were wet. 

“Are your eyes bleeding again? I thought you changed your bandages right before I got here….”

Host let her, though didn’t bother to move his hands. Pressing against his soaked bandages, imagining feeling better if he pressed against this eyes. It didn’t do anything, but it hurt, it hurt badly.

“It’s not because of the weather.”, Host muttered, wincing slightly as he felt her thumb so close to his eyes. He absolutely hated being touched anywhere near them, and the urge to get away from her rose in him. Pain kept him seated though.

“Of course they would with this pain.”, he muttered. Strong emotions caused his eyes to bleed, nightmares. With this pain, he wasn’t surprised by the blood dripping from his eyes and getting smeared by the soaked bandages.
“Host wants Eve to stop touching him already.”, he muttered -usually he was fine not narrating around her, though it wasn’t unusual for him to do it anyways. He did feel very uncomfortable with the prolonged touch he hadn’t wanted in the first place.

ask-bethany-and-dark:

Eve was making some tea for Host, having been coming over more frequently. Humming to herself while pouring the hot water into the cup she felt a strangeness to the house. She didn’t know why, but the vibe of the house had been changing. It felt..off. Like something was bound to happen, but what she had no idea. Gently taking Host’s cup in her hand she walked out of the kitchen. “Tea is ready, Host.” She set it down in front of him and noticed he was touching his bandaged eyes. “Host? Is something the matter?”

“They hurt.”, Host mumbled. He was hunched over, balling his hands into fists over his eyes. It hurt badly, and it reminded him of- of what? He couldn’t remember, which confused him. Trying to think too much about it hurt. 

“Something’s happening and-”, he wasn’t sure. “…Don’t know..”, he finished more or less. His whole head hurt, remembering anything hurt.
His whole form seemed to flicker, just a bit, for a split second.

ask-bethany-and-dark:

emptynarration:

emptynarration:

It was almost eerily silent. Normally, the sounds of Author writing could be heard, and often his mumbling of what he was writing and going to write. Or there would be the sound of the old radio that sat on his desk. Sometimes, there was just the sound of static, because the Author found it calmed his head. Emptied it. And he needed that more often than not.

But now it was silent. As if nothing and no one alive was here. There didn’t seem to be any of Author’s pets around either at the moment.

It wasn’t hard to find the man though. He was in his study -as he normally always was- but he wasn’t at his desk. He had been kneeling on the ground, at some point. But now he was laying on his side, collapsed. There was a lot of blood, too. A small puddle where… remains of something was, and a bloody pair of scissors, and a spoon? Author’s hands were covered in blood, and some flesh, or goo. And his face was full of blood. Mainly around his eyes, though.

Author flinched when she touched his hand suddenly. He wasn’t used to being blind, and being unable to see what happened around him. He didn’t like it. If his head wasn’t so full, and so messy, he might’ve known it was going to happen. But his head hurt, and there was so much going on in his head, that he wasn’t able to grasp a single thought of it. He could barely hear his own thoughts.

“I’m… fine.”, he replied, sighing. He had gone through a lot of bad injuries.
“There’s nothing you could’ve done if you came sooner. Other than getting traumatized.”, he muttered. He wouldn’t have Eve stop him. He would’ve done it no matter what had happened.

He had thought about it. A lot. For weeks. Because of Author’s phobia of change. He couldn’t just act on impulse with something like this. So he had thought about it, and how it would change his entire life. And he had gone through with it.

Eve sniffled, wiping her eyes with her free hand.

“I just….I don’t think you deserve this! You make amazing stories, you put up with me, y-you’ve made a lot of people happy and inspired by your books. I…I don’t….want you to get hurt anymore…” She admitted, gently squeezing his hand.

“I….care about you….a lot. You’re the closest person I have, I trust you with my life….I want to be able to protect you when it’s needed.” Eve really did care about him, more than anyone else, even herself. She had to admit she was planning to have a good day with Author that day, snacks, movies, discussions, and she was going to tell him how she felt.

But now??? Not after everything he’s been through. Maybe that was a sign from the universe that she shouldn’t confess her feelings.

Author huffed a soft laugh. “Not deserve this..”, he mumbled. So many would disagree with Eve. So many people wished Author death, so many people hated him. For all the things he’s done. From literally ruining their lifes and writing it down into a book, to beating them to a pulp with his bat.
Though he was aware his books were also loved, by so many people. The horror, the thrillers, the mystery, and even the fantasy. He loved praise and compliments more than anything, but…

“You don’t need to protect me. I’ve survived so far.”, he hummed. He had survived so many tried to kill him, he didn’t need someone to look after him. He would’ve survived taking his eyes without help too.

emptynarration:

It was almost eerily silent. Normally, the sounds of Author writing could be heard, and often his mumbling of what he was writing and going to write. Or there would be the sound of the old radio that sat on his desk. Sometimes, there was just the sound of static, because the Author found it calmed his head. Emptied it. And he needed that more often than not.

But now it was silent. As if nothing and no one alive was here. There didn’t seem to be any of Author’s pets around either at the moment.

It wasn’t hard to find the man though. He was in his study -as he normally always was- but he wasn’t at his desk. He had been kneeling on the ground, at some point. But now he was laying on his side, collapsed. There was a lot of blood, too. A small puddle where… remains of something was, and a bloody pair of scissors, and a spoon? Author’s hands were covered in blood, and some flesh, or goo. And his face was full of blood. Mainly around his eyes, though.

Author flinched when she touched his hand suddenly. He wasn’t used to being blind, and being unable to see what happened around him. He didn’t like it. If his head wasn’t so full, and so messy, he might’ve known it was going to happen. But his head hurt, and there was so much going on in his head, that he wasn’t able to grasp a single thought of it. He could barely hear his own thoughts.

“I’m… fine.”, he replied, sighing. He had gone through a lot of bad injuries.
“There’s nothing you could’ve done if you came sooner. Other than getting traumatized.”, he muttered. He wouldn’t have Eve stop him. He would’ve done it no matter what had happened.

He had thought about it. A lot. For weeks. Because of Author’s phobia of change. He couldn’t just act on impulse with something like this. So he had thought about it, and how it would change his entire life. And he had gone through with it.

ask-bethany-and-dark:

emptynarration:

emptynarration:

It was almost eerily silent. Normally, the sounds of Author writing could be heard, and often his mumbling of what he was writing and going to write. Or there would be the sound of the old radio that sat on his desk. Sometimes, there was just the sound of static, because the Author found it calmed his head. Emptied it. And he needed that more often than not.

But now it was silent. As if nothing and no one alive was here. There didn’t seem to be any of Author’s pets around either at the moment.

It wasn’t hard to find the man though. He was in his study -as he normally always was- but he wasn’t at his desk. He had been kneeling on the ground, at some point. But now he was laying on his side, collapsed. There was a lot of blood, too. A small puddle where… remains of something was, and a bloody pair of scissors, and a spoon? Author’s hands were covered in blood, and some flesh, or goo. And his face was full of blood. Mainly around his eyes, though.

Of course, Author couldn’t reply. He wouldn’t have even if he were conscious, mostly because he wouldn’t want to tell Eve what had happened in the first place. He wasn’t going to tell anyone that, because he knew what consequences that would bear.

He had known what would happen if this happened. He knew that once he passed out, that Eve would find him and get him to a hospital. He knew he’d wake up and be told there was no way giving him back sight. He knew he was going to lie, he was going to say he didn’t remember anything of what had happened. And because he had known all that -and he had known so much he shouldn’t have known, that he blindly believed that what he knew would really come true- he had gone this far, in false hopes of something happening he wasn’t sure would help or not.

And that is exactly what happened. Eve was brought to the hospital with Author. After a few hours, Author was confirmed in stable condition, and once Author was awake they told him the bad news about his eyes. Eve sat outside of his room, blaming herself and crying to herself. She had to let him sleep, recuperate. But she wouldn’t leave. She stayed at the hospital all night, refusing to leave even after visiting hours were over. That next morning Eve was allowed to come by once Author was offered his breakfast. Eve slowly peeked from the door, a bouquet of flowers in her arms as she nervously peeked in. 

“Author…?” She had bought the bouquet from the gift shop, and while he couldn’t see them she hoped it gave off a nice smell to the room. She slowly sat down in the chair next to his bed, her face stained with tears and to the doctors looking like a complete wreck.

Author was, all in all, rather numb to it. “Shock” the doctors said. It’d came crashing down on him after some time. No one could say when, but it would come. They said so, at the very least.

His eyes throbbed, and Author was glad for the painkillers against it. But he wasn’t happy. His head was full, full of narration of life, like it was a book. And it bothered him. It bothered him how he knew things without knowing them. How he knew how Eve felt, without her having said it.

He was sitting up when she came in, leaning back against pillows. His head hurt. It was pain he had hoped to get rid off with his eyes. At least he had gotten rid of these… these visions or what they had been. He had seen so many things, and it had scared him, and annoyed him, and it had been terrible.

“Hello, Eve.”, he replied, voice quiet. He didn’t feel like raising it.

emptynarration:

It was almost eerily silent. Normally, the sounds of Author writing could be heard, and often his mumbling of what he was writing and going to write. Or there would be the sound of the old radio that sat on his desk. Sometimes, there was just the sound of static, because the Author found it calmed his head. Emptied it. And he needed that more often than not.

But now it was silent. As if nothing and no one alive was here. There didn’t seem to be any of Author’s pets around either at the moment.

It wasn’t hard to find the man though. He was in his study -as he normally always was- but he wasn’t at his desk. He had been kneeling on the ground, at some point. But now he was laying on his side, collapsed. There was a lot of blood, too. A small puddle where… remains of something was, and a bloody pair of scissors, and a spoon? Author’s hands were covered in blood, and some flesh, or goo. And his face was full of blood. Mainly around his eyes, though.

Of course, Author couldn’t reply. He wouldn’t have even if he were conscious, mostly because he wouldn’t want to tell Eve what had happened in the first place. He wasn’t going to tell anyone that, because he knew what consequences that would bear.

He had known what would happen if this happened. He knew that once he passed out, that Eve would find him and get him to a hospital. He knew he’d wake up and be told there was no way giving him back sight. He knew he was going to lie, he was going to say he didn’t remember anything of what had happened. And because he had known all that -and he had known so much he shouldn’t have known, that he blindly believed that what he knew would really come true- he had gone this far, in false hopes of something happening he wasn’t sure would help or not.

ask-bethany-and-dark:

emptynarration:

It was almost eerily silent. Normally, the sounds of Author writing could be heard, and often his mumbling of what he was writing and going to write. Or there would be the sound of the old radio that sat on his desk. Sometimes, there was just the sound of static, because the Author found it calmed his head. Emptied it. And he needed that more often than not.

But now it was silent. As if nothing and no one alive was here. There didn’t seem to be any of Author’s pets around either at the moment.

It wasn’t hard to find the man though. He was in his study -as he normally always was- but he wasn’t at his desk. He had been kneeling on the ground, at some point. But now he was laying on his side, collapsed. There was a lot of blood, too. A small puddle where… remains of something was, and a bloody pair of scissors, and a spoon? Author’s hands were covered in blood, and some flesh, or goo. And his face was full of blood. Mainly around his eyes, though.

Eve was looking around, finding something off about the entire situation. Why was everything so quiet? She didn’t feel good suddenly.

“Author..?” She asked, walking down the hall to his study.

“Author are yo-” She screamed, so much fear coming from her throat. She ran to Author’s side, trembling as she knelt in the blood. 

“Author! No no no, Author hold on!” She pulled her phone from her purse. hat happened to him!? Who did this!? She lifted his head and practically vomited from the sight. His eyes were gone, just the spongy skin of his eye lids were present. Looking down she noticed the remains, and started to cry. 

“Author…” She started to dial 911, her hands covered in Author’s blood.

Author was still alive. He was breathing, but it was fast and shallow. His heart rate very high, but his pulse weak. He had lost quite a bit of blood, and probably had been in shock, considering what had most likely happened.

He was in desperate need of medical assistance, from the blood loss mixed with the shock. There was still blood dripping from his eyes down his cheeks, though it had slowed considerably. His eyelids were still functional, there and doing what they were supposed to do. Technically. They hid his empty eyesockets, but they were sunken in and covered in blood.