Dead (Story of Brothers in Nevernever Land)
This is the beginning of the entirety of a story which I'm hoping to develope over time. I suppose this would be chapter 1. Once again I hope to recieve feedback useful tips/plot advancement ideas etc.
Bright clear drops slashed down from dark storm clouds. The rain was merciless and the water was lifeless as nothing ever grew in the blasted soil around the house. The rain was about as much use for the vegetation as it would be for a bonfire. The darkened horizon never cleared up and neither did the clouds, the rain was just an interlude to the dark monotony. It was the perfect place for the dead to go after their lives had been snuffed.
The house was huge though very few were sure exactly how huge, not even the inhabitants. Many of said inhabitants spent huge quantities of their un-dead lives trying to find or map ways through the corridors and rooms. Thus many of the almost regular faces, masks or maws would disappear for days on end. There was never a moment that a screech or a scuffle could not be heard somewhere in its vastness.
There were many aspects of the house that could be considered, like the towers, balconies, porches or the two to three clock towers that stuck raggedly out from its roof or walls. Stone gargoyles perched on ledges and sometimes they could be seen moving or flying when their silhouettes would pass before an almost clear span of sky.
A figure sat on some porch steps, droplets running down his cloak, looked down into a crystalline puddle of water that had formed between his feet. Sensing a tiny seed of life he drew a long finger nail through the water and made a miniature trench from the puddle. Sometimes things from the land of the living would blow in on the estranged winds and he was curious about the small seed that he sensed.
Concentrating, he drew on his power and let it run through himself into the seed. It started growing as tiny tendrils of green emerged from the cocoon and even tinier but longer roots felt for purchase in the dead soil.
They would not find nourishment and it saddened the figure that the plant would die as soon as he stopped feeding it from himself. A rush of air made his cloak rustle and a presence made itself felt, it startled him and his concentration fled when he looked up.
Before him was a pale face sporting a mocking grin.
"So dear brother I see that you're still as sentimental as always. Your little amusement is already leaping to join our ranks, look."
The creature looked down at the seedling but its small leaves were already shrivelling up and turning dirty brown. Wufy got to his feet towering over his slender and much more human looking brother, Bucher. Wufy, now annoyed, answered his brother "Get out of my face, lack of respect for life isn't a virtue. We should appreciate it all the more in this place, look at us brother, even God has truly forsaken us for he does not even bother to fetch the lost souls."
"Yes yes..."answered the Bucher "I know you rants and grievances, the truth is that we are superior to mortals and fittingly so. Speaking of which there will be a few additional souls to join us soon enough. It will be arriving with the human's dead wagon. See, without me our source of life... or should I rather say dead, would filter in more slowly."
Wufy sighed aloud his massive chest expanding "You've been out hunting, ignoring the truce..."
" And what are you planning on doing brother? Would you betray me?"
"No, but you sadden me Bucher, what would you have me do?"
"I... 'He paused' would have you remember that we are of the same blood dog!"
Wufy stood in the rain hating his brother but also feeling lost as his only kinship came from what he hated. Bucher silently entered into the house snickering to himself.
Hmm, apparently it needs to be more than 4000 characters. So I'm gonna add the second part here too.
This is Dead part 2.
Rain poured throughout the night. Some residents emerged to shamble aimlessly across the blasted ground surrounding the house while others sped into the distance towards to the borders of the forest hoping to make a meal of curious game that ventured across the threshold.
Bucher saw without seeing the dead wagon on its way miles into the murk. Blood pulsing in veins was like a bright torch to him and he gauged that the wagon's driver was especially terrified since Bucher could see his life force at this distance. Some of the more intelligent house denizens always saw to it that the dead bodies reached the house without being plundered by some of the more opportunistic un-dead. Bucher had a sneaking suspicion that the six wolf-like escorts didn't put the driver at ease. They trotted alongside the wagon keeping a distance between themselves and the horses pulling the wagon through the mud.
He lounged with his back against a clock tower, a fine crystal glass filled with crimson life-blood held delicately in hand. He smiled as a gargoyle almost lost its footing on a slippery balcony ledge. So graceful in the air on the ground it might as well have been a newborn fawn walking for the first time he thought.
The wagon was nearing the side of the house but Bucher who couldn't be bothered by the unloading of corpses was once more lost in his own thoughts until he saw something interesting; Wufy was ambling towards the wagon, his huge cloak flapping behind him belying the sheer physical force that he was. The "wagon-guards" removed themselves from his path. Bucher was intrigued. The driver shrunk away as Wufy approached and Bucher could see the human's life pulsing brighter with the added terror of a huge beast bearing down on him. Then Wufy did a peculiar thing; he seemed to be speaking to the driver who nodded intermittently. Wufy, seemingly satisfied, handed something to the driver who smiled nervously and accepted the package with another series of nods. Wufy ambled off again as the driver seemed all too happy to be off again.
Bucher frowned to himself draining the last of the glass' contents peering intently at the wagon as it made it's way back to the border. Wufy had entered into the corpse storage where it would be rationed out among the dead by some un-dead humans whose souls just didn't seem to want to leave their long since decaying bodies. Bucher smiled to himself, it seemed that the only useful human was a dead one.