Withered Roses

Wilting Rose Petals

(REVS POV)

Tonight was normal as could be. I find myself sitting at my Quartz desk, getting lost in my own writing. There is a soul fire lamp lighting my desk and the surrounding area. I am once again writing entries in my ongoing research papers about the creatures of this land. I write about what I currently know about the creatures known as Wither Skeletons. As them being half of what I am, I thought it would be easy to put down the facts about them. But...I find myself struggling.

   As I shakily write my thoughts out onto the coffee-stained pages of my book, the bloody ink I use started running thin on the pages. I sigh and look at the glass jar sitting on my desk to re-dip my quill, just to find that it has run empty. "Damnit" I hiss to myself "Right when im in the middle of writing too". Saying this, I quickly push my chair out with my feet and stand up.

   I take a quick look around my living room to see if there are any ink bottles. I look over to the fireplace in the back, it has been giving off a faint blue light as the soulfire I had lit it with flickers and dances ever so softly. I look over to the left of the fireplace to see Lunar, my white cat, jump off the bookcase she had been laying on and rushing over for me to pet her. Ever since Eclipse, my other cat, disappeared...she has been a lot more clingy. I give Lunar some attention and look back up to continue searching for another bottle of Ink. I search for a few seconds just to find my luck was wearing thin; I always seem to have horrible luck when I need it most.

   I think to myself for a moment, pondering where I could have left an ink bottle...And then it hits me and I whisper, disappointed, "Of course, I left a few extra ink bottles in my panic room." And with that, I head down the stairs of my house. The room I enter is my storage and entrance area to my house, stone laces the walls, and furnaces and barrels flood the room. There is something out of place in here though. A single wither rose growing out of one of the cracks in the floor, I notice it and stop dead in my tracks. I stare at it for God knows how long, my mind racing on what this could mean. Its dark petals give off a deadly smoke, making it so easy to identify. What could this mean? Did someone die? No...No someone couldn't have, I don't feel an imbalance in my mind or anything. Then...what is it?

   The smoke of the flower began to spill out faster, its petals shaking so violently that it almost seems as if it was being blown by a harsh wind. "What the hell-" I say before the sounds of screaming fill my mind. Thousands of voices talking all at once, screaming of death and terror. It was as if I could hear the whole world on fire, or as if I could hear millions of souls screaming to be freed at once. As their voices and screaming fill my mind, my head starts to feel as if it was splitting in two. And the wound which I had left on myself feels as if it was growing more and more, the cracks on my skull feeling as if they were growing bigger.  I drop to my knees, not being able to hold myself up. My legs hitting the cold, hard floor.

  As this is all happening, the smoke from the flower grows thicker. The rose still shakes as this all happens, so violently that its petals start slowly falling to the ground. And as the petals fall, the smoke pours out faster and faster, its toxic fumes slowly taking over the room. It gets hard to breathe. I scream but nothing comes out, my eyes begin to water. And as the smoke fills the room, it grows dark...so so dark.

   And in this darkness, I hear a voice. A deep, grueling voice. It overtakes my entire mind, calming the thousands of other voices. It calmly hums "You wanted to see me, my little Wither Rose. And now, you can."