Museum of Souls (Players)

The Surging Horn


Dawning lights drip through cracks into the once beloved home of the Pinnth family. Outside had the grass grown dark and sparse as mere soil overcame the life which grew. A simple puddle of reflection to what has been shows a grand event. Children and pets merely existing in these fields. Alone yet so vast in number while at home the parents settled in relaxing ways. Though to drink water was sparse causing them to seek this simple stream. On the way eyes followed with toxin on the breath. A vest and pipe that revealed the end to others signified the random hunter. Cries of metal alerted all to the disturbance as screaming voices rushed into the woods. The dirk and dagger fled fearing confrontation only attempt to feed those close. Tears fell over the whimpering body of Lucy the cow. Her milk would soon sour and rot inside of the worthless body. The mourning ended quickly as tools of man make any wary. In time those in blue came without any idea or cause, merely believing safety was found elsewhere. Soon enough the family left abandoning their estate and place of love and nurture. Fester did the essence of Lucy until no longer could it wait. Gaunt and stricken of flesh or understanding merely did the bovine pardoner wish to seek absolution from another. It wandered for nights causing even wolves to cower in fear at its flaying gaze. Small and rickety a shack was sure of guilt, as blood stained its very porch. Lucy stopped outside looking in at a child and man laugh over the body of a steer. He was cutting it as she watched learning the very purpose of everything, to survive. To enjoy each other and continue despite anything that could bring them down. Their smiles were cold as her body though, she didn't care about the here and now. This spirit of vengeance only existed because of the past. Before either could embrace ensuring additional wanting the door burst open as a skull slammed into the man. He struggled gasping for breath and bleeding pinned against an array of tools. With a few he bashed on the thick bone but eventually he paled as his strength faded. The whole time the other merely sobbed waiting for the color to leave his face and eyes, wishing for just another moment. Lucy was the eye of justice, blind but necessary. Limp were both as the slowly sagged. She would never forget, the little girl would always see as she wept the empty sockets. It had been inevitable.