{"sf1_id":1709350,"sf2_id":"dmWJ64ve","title":" The Leaves of Fall Act 3: Something That Matters (Part 25)","author":"Oliver_Hart","words":1609,"posted_at":"2021-04-21T22:13:00.000Z","tags":["Adventure","Alternate Reality","Anon","Boy","Brother","Bunny","Classroom","Couple","Emo","Fight","Girl","Green text","Greentext","HMOFA","Halloween","Heterosexual","High School","Hmofa/","Human","Kissing","Plot Development","Rabbit","Siblings","Slow burn","Young Romance","anthro/human"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1709350-the-leaves-of-fall-act-3-something-that-matters-part-25","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/dmWJ64ve","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/85/04/85043e2b-35b9-4e5f-a484-576b9e4b5d16","description":"You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.  \n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  \n  \nAbout this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.  \n  \nCover: [https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q](https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q)  \nSam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) [https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT](https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT)  \nFan art collection: [https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv](https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv)  \nAccompanying playlist (WIP): [https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410\\_nI-0J](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J)  \nAlternative link: [https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078](https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078)  \nTotal word count: 147,552 words","content":"\\\u003eYou race through the darkened corridors of the maintenance tunnels  \n\\\u003eWell, race isn’t the proper verb to use  \n\\\u003eIt’s more like a speedy hobble in the sticky heat  \n\\\u003eBut it’s progress, despite how blurry everything is  \n\\\u003eAnd how blurry your thinking feels  \n\\\u003eCurious  \n\\\u003eThat’s all it is to you  \n\\\u003eCurious  \n\\\u003eCertainly not concerning  \n\\\u003eBut you feel that worry like a shard of ice against your bare skin  \n\\\u003ePain hammers behind your eyes, and your body feels like broken glass  \n\\\u003eBut time is of the essence, as each labored step through the darkness drags you closer and closer to the altar  \n\\\u003eSam is breathing hard, and to be fair, you’re practically gulping air  \n\\\u003eChrist it gets hot up here  \n\\\u003e”A-A-Anon, I c-c-can smell blood…” Sam’s voice is a high whine. “I-It’s really st-strong.”  \n\\\u003eCareful not to drop the books or the slip of glass, you feel the back of your head, and gasp when you feel how wet with fresh blood it is  \n\\\u003eChrist  \n\\\u003e”O-Oh God,” Sam shudders. “A-A-Are you al-alright?”  \n“Yes,” you lie through clenched teeth. “Just keep p-pushing forward. I think we’re almost t-there.”  \n\\\u003eIn truth the pain is like a millstone around your neck  \n\\\u003eYour heavy head and bruised up body want to collapse into the heat, to lay down and succumb to everything  \n\\\u003eDeath is a warm blanket  \n\\\u003eYou won’t allow yourself that comfort  \n\\\u003eNot yet  \n  \n\\\u003eThe fire-light glow of the room calls to you like a torch in the dark  \n\\\u003eAt the end of the hall, you see orange light slanting around a sharp corner, reflecting off the old copper pipes  \n“I think we’re almost there,” you say as you two hobble into the light  \n\\\u003eYou try smiling at Sam, but a lancing arc if pain drills right down from your head to your feet  \n\\\u003eYou halt in place and grit your teeth, body trembling as little tremors rip through you  \n\\\u003e”A-Anon-” Sam looks up and gasps. “Y-Your head!”  \n\\\u003eYou again feel the back of your skull  \n\\\u003eOh Christ  \n\\\u003eThere’s so much blood  \n\\\u003eAnd what’s more, you can feel a terrific gash  \n\\\u003e”A-Anon we need to s-s-s-stop,” Sam says as she slides out and away from you  \n“We can’t-” Another wave of nausea and pain. “-Not here, not now.”  \n\\\u003e”J-Just take it easy a-a-alright?”  \n\\\u003eHer voice is so distant as you check your phone  \n\\\u003e11:57  \n\\\u003eYou hear is a dull buzzing sound, like a swarm of locusts in your ear  \n\\\u003eThose dark stars are back in the corners of your vision, pulling further and further inward  \n\\\u003eYou gasp sharply when they cloud your vision completely, sending them back to your peripherals, the way that a shoreline recedes in the electrified minutes before a tsunami  \n\\\u003eYou can see it now, as the narrow hallway opens up into a low, familiar room  \n\\\u003eStrange etching and carvings adorn the walls, with a flame-written ‘31’ glowing large and bright like a neon sign  \n\\\u003eAnd in the center of the room: the stone basin, still a shallow pool of blood in it  \n\\\u003eYou throw your hands onto the basin’s rim for support as another wave of agony overwhelms you  \n\\\u003eYour lungs feel like they can’t get enough air  \n\\\u003eYou gasp  \n\\\u003eAnd gasp  \n\\\u003eAnd gasp  \n\\\u003eAnd gasp  \n\\\u003eUntil the color returns to the room, all orange and pink, but tinged at the edges with gray and black  \n\\\u003eThe books and the glass shards fall from your shaking hand  \n\\\u003e”H-H-Here.” Sam scoops them up and hands them to you. “P-Please t-t-take them, y-y-you’re the only one w-w-who knows what to d-d-do.”  \n\\\u003eShe wrings her ears  \n\\\u003eYou allow the books to fall into the center of the altar, where they are promptly saturated by Sam’s old blood  \n\\\u003eFuck  \n\\\u003eFuckity fuck fuck  \n\\\u003eWith shaking hands you flip open The Book of Rite, searching for that page about banishing  \n\\\u003eBut Christ, everything is so blurry, and your heart is racing so fast  \n\\\u003e”An-Anon, here.” Sam holds her wrist above the altar, her sleeves pushed down her thin arms  \n\\\u003eIn her right hand is the jagged slice of glass  \n\\\u003eSam locks eyes with you and nods  \n\\\u003e”T-Tell me w-when.” She steadies her shaking voice  \n\\\u003eFresh blood  \n\\\u003eIt has to be fresh  \n\\\u003eYou’ve been staring at the pages for too long  \n\\\u003eYou blink away the dark stars as your blood soaked fingers leaf through the pages of The Book of Rite  \n\\\u003eIt’s here  \n\\\u003eIt’s… somewhere in the middle  \n\\\u003e11:58  \n  \n\\\u003eGod, wouldn’t it be poetic to die at exactly midnight?  \n\\\u003eYour hands are trembling too bad  \n\\\u003eYou’ve lost too much blood  \n\\\u003eYou’re concussed  \n\\\u003eSo just give up the ghost  \n\\\u003eThe world goes gray  \n\\\u003eAnd then starts to get a bit darker  \n\\\u003eHow you’re remaining upright is anyone’s guess  \n\\\u003e11:59  \n\\\u003eA delicate furry hand starts leafing through the pages in front of you  \n\\\u003eAnd you can see on the pages that same, torturous, spidery scrawl  \n\\\u003eAn old type of cursive written in fragmented pen  \n\\\u003eAnd Sam points to a heading that’s faded with age  \n\\\u003e”I-Is this i-it?” She says  \n\\\u003eYou hear her voice, but she sounds like he’s yelling across a canyon  \n\\\u003eYou read the heading, eyes bouncing around the scrawled cursive  \n\\\u003e’Banishment’  \n\\\u003eA smile spreads across your face — a wild, delirious smile  \n\\\u003eYou look up at Sam  \n\\\u003eThat dumb bunny  \n\\\u003eThat stupid, amazing, lovable, dumb bunny  \n\\\u003eYour mind shears into two, like a glacier being cleaved in half  \n\\\u003eYou’re not sure what you’re going to say next, but your mouth starts working anyway  \n\\\u003eYou nod towards her exposed wrist and the trembling shard of glass hovering just above delicate fur  \n“R-Remember, ac-across the s-street, not d-down the lane.”  \n  \n\\\u003eA quick slash  \n\\\u003eSam gasping, reflexively clutching at her wound  \n\\\u003eA steady trickle of blood saturates the page  \n\\\u003eLight explodes from the old pressed parchments  \n\\\u003eYou shut your eyes and exhale  \n  \n\\\u003eYou’re whipped onto your ass by an other-worldly force  \n\\\u003eYou and Sam both go tumbling down (tumbling down) (tumbling down)  \n\\\u003eThe two books ascend into the air, dripping with blood as their pages spin and explode in fractals of light  \n\\\u003eYou can only watch with gaped maws as the world coalesces and then spreads apart right before your eyes  \n\\\u003eThe ground shakes beneath you as you struggle to stand upright   \n\\\u003eYou are quickly cut down by a series of jarring tremors that are so violent you can feel them in your teeth  \n\\\u003eSo you just lay on your back  \n\\\u003eLike a dying fish  \n\\\u003eAnd watch as the world trembles and shakes as your vision collapses into stuttering pulses  \n\\\u003eYou’re wide awake  \n\\\u003eYou think  \n\\\u003eYou don’t know anymore  \n\\\u003eUntil Sam crawls on top of you  \n\\\u003eAnd then you know you’re awake (or at least alive)  \n\\\u003eOr was she always on top of you and now you’re just gaining consciousness?  \n\\\u003eYour eyes struggle open  \n\\\u003eYou feel her delicate frame on top of your own, like a heavy feather pillow  \n\\\u003eIt feels like with her there, all the tremors stop  \n\\\u003eThe books fall uselessly back into the altar’s center  \n“Sam?” Your voice is weak and tinged with exhaustion. “W-Why are you laying on top of me?”  \n\\\u003eYou cough out some dust and grit  \n\\\u003e”Y-Y-You were sh-shaking,” she answers back  \n\\\u003eBut when you look up, her eyes are filled with tears  \n\\\u003eThey streak and cut down her dirty fur in mirrored lines  \n\\\u003eIt’s almost kind of beautiful, in a weird way  \n“Stop crying you big baby,” you say, half-joking  \n\\\u003eThe rest of you isn’t sure what exactly you’re trying to say  \n\\\u003e”A-A-A-And you’re st-still bleeding.”  \n\\\u003eTo your surprise, she throws her arms around your neck and dips her face against your chest  \n\\\u003eYou can feel another type of tremor:  \n\\\u003eSam, shaking against you with heavy relived sobs  \n\\\u003e”I d-d-don’t want to l-l-lose you,” she cries. “G-G-God p-please be alright.”  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to speak, which feels like a monumental effort  \n\\\u003eLike your jaw was weighted shut  \n\\\u003eSo you don’t talk  \n\\\u003eJust let the waves of unconsciousness take you, like a small boat being carried out to sea, as your vision goes to gray  \n\\\u003eSam is talking again, but you can barely hear her  \n\\\u003eShe sits up and scrubs her eyes with the back of her sleeves  \n\\\u003eShe tries to put on a determined and strong face  \n\\\u003e”D-D-Don’t m-move. I-I’m g-g-going to g-g-g-get help…”  \n\\\u003eBut when she meets your darkening eyes, her strong front shatters like a dam suddenly bursting  \n\\\u003e”A-Anon-” she bites her lower lip and swallows the lump in her throat. “P-Please s-s-stay with me.”  \n\\\u003eYou’re trying  \n\\\u003eYou want to live  \n\\\u003eBecause, if nothing else, you have something you need to tell her  \n\\\u003e”I-I l-love you s-s-s-so much.”  \n\\\u003eYour mouth forms the words, but no sound comes out:  \n‘I love you too.’  \n\\\u003eSam spends a few more heartbeats staring into your eyes, before she leans in, plants a faint kiss on your forehead, and then rolls off you  \n\\\u003eShe stands tall (or as tall as she can with a broken leg) and leans onto a carved up wall for support  \n\\\u003e”I-I’ll b-b-be back, o-okay?”  \n\\\u003eShe doesn’t wait for you to respond, not only because you really can’t right now, but because there’s no time  \n\\\u003eShe hobbles off down the hall, out of the reach of the slowly declining light  \n\\\u003eThe world turns beneath you, as if you were balanced on a spinning top set in motion at the explosive dawn of the universe  \n\\\u003eAnd with the last molecules of consciousness now buzzing around you like flies as entropy quashes all motion, a wave of sadness and despair washes over you  \n\\\u003eIt’s not that you’re afraid to die  \n\\\u003eYou’re just afraid to lose her  \n\\\u003eYou exhale  \nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pfi1UQ\\_PKQI\u0026list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410\\_nI-0J\u0026index=18\u0026t=0s  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003e…..  \n\\\u003e…….  \n\\\u003e…….  \n\\\u003e…..  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003e…..  \n\\\u003e…….  \n\\\u003e…….  \n\\\u003e…..  \n\\\u003e…  \n\\\u003e..  \n\\\u003e.","series":{"name":"The Leaves of Fall","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1707660-the-leaves-of-fall-act-3-something-that-matters-part-24.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1711497-the-leaves-of-fall-act-3-something-that-matters-part-26.json"}}