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Nameless Projects To Revisit Later.

Nameless Projects To Revisit Later.

///////Project #1///////

(Original Inspiration: There's potential, maybe make some lore and come back later?)

The road isn't kind to its dwellers, not showing mercy to the ambitious traveler who dances from city to city like a prostitute, inevitably disappearing in the morning. Not allowing shadows or rain for the sun-scorched farmers who only seek rest from the unforgiving conditions they find themselves in. Not taking it easy on the merchants and their horses as they carry heavy cargo across seas. And absolutely, it is never easy for those who choose the blade as their way of life.

That's how I find myself now, riding a tired, worn-by-time horse belonging to a dead samurai I encountered on the country roads of some unnamed road south to the capital. His chest had a gaping hole, big enough to fit a hand, and have it appear on the other side, missing his eyes and heart. What a bad way to die. The creepy who took them, I just hope to not find myself near their blade or subjected to the unmerciful hands they must possess.

"Come on, behave a little, would you?" I ask of the uncooperative horse, watching it snort as a response, just like a person would. "It's not exactly easy for me too."

With no more complaints from my four-leg friend, I rest my hand on its expensive-looking saddle and let it walk aimlessly, just like I was doing before finding it. I find my gaze lost in the extensive forest that surrounds us, always alert for any water sources, as bathhouses are expensive enough to be only accessible to nobility and up.

The snow coating my hair is like a warning for the incoming blizzard night, only some hours away from me now. Tapping the side of the horse's body, it neighs and, like the wind, rushes forward towards the unknown, leaving me to fight for my balance atop it.

///////Project #2///////

(Ancient magus bride inspiration: Fail)

This is the kind of day no one expects to be subjected to. I was just about to jump off my school rooftop, expecting to meet my end embraced by the tender-hearted yellow roses that I helped grow in the school garden, the same roses that were put through so much pain by the uncaring hands of people who act like they care. The love is in the beauty, and the hate is in the ugly reality. Before I could, though, a well-dressed man, accompanied by a short, blonde woman, made me an offer.

"If your life is not worth keeping, would you perhaps be interested in sealing yourself, miss?"

Harsh words of a businessman; for a normal person, they would be offended instantly and lash out, but my tiredness wouldn't allow me to do that, so I accepted. Only the reason escapes me, even now that I'm signing myself off as an item in their auction house. To be bought by people and supernaturals alike, sold to the highest bid like a soulless doll. Maybe being owned and serving a purpose could bring me the happiness I once had. This bet is one I have no other choice but to make, and in the worst-case scenario, I can always find a nice river to drown in.

The room and sofa I sit on are comfortable; four white walls with flower designs on the wood on the bottom part compose this serious and clean ambiance. The blonde woman from before sips on her coffee and watches me closely with unexpressive eyes.

My steady, weak hand holds the ink pen in between my index and middle fingers, filling the questionnaire with my information, such as age, height, and other things I mindlessly do on autopilot as my tired eyes unfocus from the world.

The snap of fingers belonging to the businessman before me brings me back to reality. "Thank you. Now just sign this paper so we can have your consent for the transaction.

"Two things we need to address before you do, Miss," He checks the papers and scratches his scalp. "Miss Talyn, first thing, you understand fully that once bought, no responsibilities for what may happen will fall upon this organization or the person that acquires you, as you accepted the terms of your own volition, meaning you understand and consent to all of this transaction; nod if you do." With a nod of my head, the man continues. "Second thing, it's my obligation to inform you of your high value as an item of today's action because of your rare density of mana and your unique ability to see past the barrier between humans and supernaturals. What I mean by my words is, be prepared; many will bid on you, so please don't be overwhelmed by the many eyes turned to you."

Ironically, one of the reasons I wanted to off myself is now what makes me of 'high value'. Can you imagine being the only kid who was able to see things where there was supposed to be nothing? To be touched and pursued by creatures you don't understand, only to be told that it is 'all in your head'? All the kids talked about the crazy girl, the schizophrenic who talked to the walls, the poor soul tormented by such illness. In truth, the things I see are real. Today was the day I was assured of that. For the first time in my whole life, I understood that I was never crazy but, in reality, cursed by the world.

"Miss Talyn? I need you to nod your head if you understand." Doing as asked, the man smiles and hands me the last paper I need to sign, once done, he takes it from me and puts it in his suitcase before rising to his feet. "Please come with me. For your safety, wear this over your head." The man snaps his finger, and the blonde woman hands me a simple cloak. Both watch me as I put on the hood over my head and keep my gaze down.

The woman bows to the man before leaving for the opposite door the man guides me to.

We pass by some cages containing creatures, small ones with wings, big ones with fur, and some stored in big cylinders with water, only visible by the glass in the middle of the container, swimming around peacefully with their mermaid-like appearance, just taking off the human look we expect from the little mermaid. All things one would be mesmerized about, but I've seen so much of this world before that this hardly strikes me as a surprise, and too, not all creatures are pretty; most are hideous, cosmic horror-like.

Once we reach a path that seems to lead to a room filled with people by the unbearable amount of whispers, the businessman takes from his suitcase a metal collar and puts it on my neck, even giving me enough time to understand what he's doing before snapping it close, linking to it with chains, and he restricts my hands as well.

"You can go now; climb the staircase to your left, and once you reach the main stage, you can take off the cloak." He tells me with a serious face that switches to a polite smile. "I wish you good luck, Miss Talyn."

Leaving me alone, I watch the man walk down the path we took, reaching the same room we were in before. closing the door behind him. The only thing left for me to do now is comply.

I take the stairs I was told to, anxiously moving my feet up and forward until I can see the top. Blinding stage lights shine down on me, forcing me to raise my arms to block the assaulting lights trying to burn my retina.

Once my eyes adjust to the light, I am met with a sight almost impossible to be calm about. Rows of people with masquerade masks, varying in height, clothes, and even form. All of the people that were whispering before, now cease their voices and fix their eyes on me, making me feel like all the steps I take now need to be without error.

My feet guide me towards the place I was told to stand, and once there, I spot an old gentleman behind a wooden podium, holding a small hammer in his hand. He gives me a look that can only be described as empty before turning back to the waiting bidders.

"Tonight we have an exceptional item for those who seek true rarity; we have a one-in-a-trillion occurrence, a human with unique attributes that haven't been seen since the great era of the witch Morgan le Fay, a blessed child of the night, a Sleigh Beggy."

The meaning of any of the old man's words is lost to me, but the audible gasps coming from the bidders are enough to make sure of the importance my curse seems to have for them.

"We will start the bids at half a million euros." The bids start to roll; from half a million, the price escalates to two million. My focus on the situation is lost as I keep my eyes down on the floor, hoping for this to end soon. At this point, I do care not who buys me; I just want this to be over.

My attention is brought back as the doors of the auction house are kicked open. All the voices die down as a figure walks forward, coming directly to the main stage with a confident stride.

"What is she doing here?" "This monster, why did she decide to come here?" "Probably to end tonight's fun, knowing her bad reputation." All mutters blend into one piercing sound, so it's hard to make up the words they say; only the hate and disgust in their voices are easily perceived.

The figure reveals herself to be a woman, wearing on her body a dress that seems to be made of black smoke, with innumerous pink eyes opening and closing on it; her gloves and witch hat are made of the same 'organic' creature. Her black hair sways from side to side as her heels are loud enough to compete against the whispers.

"Miss Quelaag," The old man stands in front of the woman, shielding me from her locked gaze and stopping her movement altogether. "I'm sorry, but if you wish to be this close to the item, you'll need to buy it."

The woman stays silent for a moment as the other participants in this audition compose themselves. "Is that so? Then, what is this item's current bid on?"

"Two million euros."

"Thirty."

"...I'm sorry, thirty what, Miss Quelaag?"

"Thirty million euros, that's my bid." The way she talks, like the amount of money she just mentioned is nothing, is both scary and fascinating. All the other bidders of the auction, as soon as her words are down on them, rise from their chairs to oppose her bid.

"Sold!" The old man hits his hammer against the podium, and the bidders start to talk and talk, their words not entering my ears as it's hard to focus on anything as something like this woman looks at you, and to the eyes on her dress.

The woman, with her piercing gaze, approaches me fully now and grabs my chains, pulling me to her side. "Come, I wish not to waste any more time on this place."

Without a chance to oppose her, she pulls me along with her like a dog on a leash toward somewhere unknown to me.

Her hands are firm yet soft somehow; she doesn't pull them hard enough to get me to trip, but not so lightly to allow me to stop either. The eyes on her clothes, even without mouths, make me feel like they are somehow laughing. Everything happens so quickly that I'm left to wonder what will happen.

The woman, Quelaag, as soon as we enter the room I was in before, pays that same businessman from earlier the money without missing a heartbeat.

"The amount I promised, now excuse me; I have places to be."

The man nods his head, but before she can fully drag me out of there, he speaks. "It's a rarity to see you out of your hideout; is there any reason why you're so interested in this item?"

"My reasons are my own; don't stick your nose up my business."

"Yes, ma'am, I apologize if my words caused you any discomfort."

The woman, not even hearing the man's words, pulls me close to her until I'm wrapped in one of her long arms. "Stay close; you might feel nauseous after the teleport."

All I can do is nod my head, and so the woman snaps her finger. For a second is like nothing, and then the light reaches my eyes, giving me the feeling that I moved, but at the same time it didn't hit me full in, grabbing the contents of my stomach as its own and threatening to make me throw up. With some deep breaths, I avoid the bad taste I would have to deal with after.

To my eyes, a tall house is revealed past the blinding midday sun, surrounded by nothing but forest and flowers. On its old walls, the forest coexists with it, growing up the roof to reach more sunlight easily. At first glance, it feels abandoned, but upon truly observing it, I can notice how the flowers don't take the windows, blocking its vision from the inside out.

"Second floor, you'll find a bathtub; bathe yourself; there will be clothes outside as soon as you're done." The woman talks as if she will just leave me here, so curiously, I can't help but ask.

"You have somewhere to go?"

"I do, but first, let me get you out of these old things." With her pale, slender fingers, she touches the chains and collar, making them turn into dust instantly, being swiped up by an unexpectedly strong wind. "Now go rest; I believe we will have things to discuss upon my return."

She waves me goodbye and vanishes, swallowed by a shadow—a magical shadow? I don't think I would understand either way, so yeah. How did I get myself into this situation again? I didn't need to accept anything; I could have made it stop in a second... but I didn't. Why?

The question plagues me, and the tiredness beneath my eyes starts to grow before I can control it, so I start moving thinklessly toward the house for the bathtub, which right now seems too good to be true.

Entering the house, it's easy to take a deep breath and relax as I allow the quietness and nice floral aroma to invade my nostrils freely. A long corridor to my right with one open door and a living room at the end, and to my left a staircase leading up. While walking up, I let my touch linger on the wooden railing. I expected to grab some dust along with it, but no, not even a single peck of it dirtied my fingertip. That lady must take cleaning very seriously.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Once on the second floor, more doors lead to more unknown places, but I focus my eyes on the only one open, and what waits for me in it is visible at first glance. The bathroom feels and looks so pretty. White cream walls become blue ceramic tiles as the bathroom is split into two parts by a tall screen divider, one with a white marble sink and toilet, while the other keeps the bathtub along with a laundry basket. It's a surprise to find the bathtub filled with steamy hot water and some flowers.

I rid myself of my clothes quickly, putting them next to the bathtub as I gaze at myself in the mirror atop the sink. My fading blue eyes stare at me, so lifeless, even more so by the two circles underneath them that seem to make them look deeper than they are. My face, as always, holds an expression of trouble, or at least many have said so to me. My black, unkept hair reaches my jaw candidly, hiding most of my face—something that happened to help me not be recognized by the others after some time, just like a ghost phasing around.

Looking down is the worst part for me; my body is just... nothing special. A chest with nothing to offer, a waist with little to no curve, and slender long legs that make my form harder to perceive as a female by most, and worst yet when I use a hoodie.

Effortlessly, I move my gaze somewhere else, finding a towel to use after my bath, and so I clean my mind and allow myself some space of mind. With my feet, I sink into the water little by little, granting my body a moment to adjust to the water temperature before I am fully engulfed by it.

Warm and soothing, the water caresses my body like an old lover, knowing of all the places to make me squirm and let go of my tension, strained muscles softening; some dirt in my body from climbing the school fence is washed away. The only thing missing is my phone, one of the things I discarded before attempting the jump. Who would have thought I would miss putting it by my side as I bathe myself? Hearing songs has always helped me space out. Still, times fly by without worry, my mind wanders in circles, asking meaningless questions until I'm done caring about them.

Out of the bathtub, the now room-temperature water slides down my body and finds a new space to rest on the floor. My hands meet with the comfortable, fluffy material of the towel, which, without mercy, I use to dry my hair while I sit at the edge of the tub, earning myself a mark on my buttocks.

My body is next; all parts are dried up until no more water is visible, only felt. "Clothes, where were they again?" I try to remember the woman's words, 'outside', if I remember correctly. Opening the door leading outside the bathroom, I find neatly hanging by the knob what I was seeking. Oversized purple flannel shirt, a pair of jeans, black-grayish shoes, and a white plain shirt—not exactly a look I would try to pull off, but, for now, it will be good enough.

I grab my dirty clothes and use the rest of the bathtub water to clean them before putting them to dry out in the window, something you get used to doing when living alone. Feeling the comfort of some new clothes, I pass by the mirror and leave the bathroom to find myself with a great question: what to do now? Quelaag is probably going to be out for some more time, so I could go to the other rooms or explore around the house. The outside it is, as I believe I'll have the chance to explore the inside later. If I'm not skinned alive or anything by my buyer and all, I just hope she isn't into BDSM.

Damn, this place is beautiful. Outside of the house, I delve deeper into the forest that surrounds the house, and I have to say, I'm pretty sure I'm not in the States anymore. I don't know exactly how to explain; it's just that the green here is more... green? Nature seems cleaner, the air more breathable, and the animals are more varied than an occasional deer luring around someone's backyard or a raccoon eating out of a trashcan with their whole generations alongside.

Another thing that makes me question even more if this is another state is the temperature before the magic that brought me here. It was hot, like, twenty-something Celsius; here it feels more like the house of fifteen. I hug the flannel shirt closer to my body, grasping at every comfort it can provide.

Every step I take toward the unknown is rewarded with more scenery. This time, I can actually feel myself relaxing, as I don't need to be looking over my shoulder to see if I'm being watched or followed by some distorted creature. Past the trees and bushes, my eyes spot a definitively interesting view. A whole city, a small city, spread over the undulating mountains like a glove, fitting every curve it can, panting the surface around the beautiful flowers of the extending open field that stops near a dirt road protected by a stone fence that goes all the way from the city to near the house I came from.

It's so tempting to just present myself to this new world, to try again, to have a new chance to be normal, but at the same time, it scares me to do so. Easy on paper, hard on reality—my feet lock to the dirt before I can even take my first step towards the small city. What if they see I'm different? Is my hair okay? My clothes are too strange for my body, right? A flood of questions that make me just repeat the same thing over and over: "I want to go home."

I'm so stupid; why can't I do this? It's so simple; I just have to get to the village city, say hi to some people, maybe make a friend, or I don't know, but no, I can't even do that now. These thoughts steal all my attention, making me lose myself in the forest. The place I was supposed to end up is back at the house, but I'm standing one step from falling into a pound.

"Wow!" I blink my eyes and mindlessly back away from my imminent fall. "That was close."

Even if my plan was not to end up here, I don't know the way back, so maybe I should rest a bit in hopes of remembering some of the path back in a few minutes.

Midday was when I arrived; more or less, the bath and walk made me lose two hours, so right now it should be three to five p.m.; the inconvenience of not having a phone to consult. My jeans become dirty as I sit on the pond's edge, my shoes stay near the water but never in them, and I keep my legs open as I play with a stick, drawing on the mud the city I saw.

First I make the mountains, trying to add the exact curvatures in the right places, then the details of the small houses, their little tilted rooftops, and to top it all off I- "That's very pretty; your skills with a simple stick are to be envied."

(Point the stick at the creature like a sword/later explain supernatural type[Ohaysu])

///////Project #3///////

(Isekais are not that interesting after all, huh? Who would have thought.)

What would you do if you were about to die? Scream? Cry? Think about the things you never did? Reminisce about loved ones?

For me It's none of the above; right now I have a blade stuck to my stomach, going all the way in and almost exiting through my back. It feels hot—burning hot, to be exact—and the pressure is unbearable like I'll explode at any moment. My sweat feels cold, and this feeling rushes down to my feet and back to the top of my head—a warning, an ultimatum.

The masked teens stare me down like I'm the dumbest person on earth, and maybe I am. Everyone says that if you're being robbed, you should comply with the robber's orders and, just like that, pray that you'll be safe and sound after. Me? Well, I'm not on to follow orders, especially from people who don't even know what rent or taxes are.

I didn't expect the kid to stab my gut, though; his hands shake with adrenaline as he processes what he had just done. The one beside him kneels, not even checking my face before pulling the knife out of me, earning a grunt of agony from me. The coldness of the blade before is traded off for the acid escaping the hole in my stomach, as well as the red, dark blood that leaves my body. Juice of life so carelessly being spilled over the uncaring concrete, what a joke.

"Come on, we are out." The one with the knife cleans the blade in my new shirt and backs away.

"Do we just leave her like this?" The other asks, shaking off his hand to get rid of the adrenaline.

"You want to end her suffering?" A scoff so clear that it makes my already fucked stomach turn.

"I... No one deserves this pain, man."

"Fine, let me take care of that then."

*Thump*

With a kick well placed, my wound becomes gaping open as I feel the feet rip my stomach open, my vision blackens for a few seconds before I find myself losing all of my capabilities to feel pain. Dammit, I know I've been good for nothing all my life, to the point I left school in the last year to shut myself in, but I deserve at least some respect. In a way, I'm just like these teens, a stupid young adult woman who doesn't fit anywhere, works in a gas station for minimum wage late at night, and the last contact with their family was a declined invitation to Christmas so they could stay home and watch some yuri anime on Crunchyroll. A little specific, but yeah.

So this will be my last thought before death? Not badass at all. My mind starts shutting down as it accepts this twisted fate: eyes not capable of seeing anymore, loss of all senses, then darkness and cold. The feeling is that things should just end, but forcefully, I'm pulled back, so hard that it hurts, but not my body as I still don't feel it, more like my... being?

It's like waking up from a dream to an open window with the sun trying its best to blind you. Loud sounds of people walking and talking startle my ears and threaten to overwhelm my senses. Forcing my eyes open, I try to locate where I am. There's a cobblestone street going around in a circle, the sound of a water fountain directly behind me, and a lot of people walking around.

I find myself sitting down on the fountain's edge, with my clothes all intact, no hole in my stomach, no blood on my hands or mouth—just peachy. Rising to my feet, I pet my pockets, finding my cell phone and wallet in the place they should be, which is strange; they just got robbed from me. Inside my wallet is some money that I was keeping to buy some tea and next month's volume of a book I got interested in, about supernatural girls and a detective from a small city. It is really bad, but hey, the romance is nice at least.

My phone, as usual, is hanging by a thread of battery life, so I put it back in my pocket to preserve it. As I wander my eyes around, the buildings here are very... old, like the vibe you would get from a medieval fantasy scene. No wait, that's the least problematic thing. Why are some people using fake tails and animal ears? Are they covered in fur?

Without thinking twice, I look away towards the fountain and grab some water in my hand, cleaning my face to see if my mind gets back to normal, but upon looking back at some people who stare at me like I'm a crazy woman, I see the same fur people.

Okay, this is funny and all, but I have to wake up soon or die soon, hopefully the first one. Rising to my feet, I grab my jacket's hoodie and put it over my head before walking away hastily, with nowhere in mind but far away from here.

///////Nameless Project #4///////

(A middle-of-the-night thought that I had when I started writing. Bad quality.)

If we are a reflection of our imagination, and people are only real when we see them, what is consciousness? How does it feel to exist?

What does it mean to not be if we only know of being? What is life if we do know not death?

"Good questions," the reflection on the mirror answers as if reading my mind, the circles under their eyes matching mine, a copycat of what I am, or what I believe I am. The only difference is that I don't have that eerie smile... anymore. "Maybe you're getting crazy."

"Shut up."

"You do realize that talking with your reflection in a mirror just proves my point, right?" The figure smirks and disgust takes over my face, bringing back a familiar frown to my expression.

I feel the deep cuts on my arms bleed again, corrupting the fine white porcelain of the sink, the blood crawling from the sides of the sink as if it were alive, feeding the thing in the mirror, a dark and cruel smile taking over their face.

The cuts burn, my skin being torn apart over and over again, perfectly aligned lines on my arms, a steady grip on the knife as the tip of the blade yet again caresses my body, beckoning me ever closer to destruction itself.

"Good," a gentle and yet foul laugh escapes their lips, threatening to push me over the edge of insanity. "I haven't had a feast like this in years."

This is not the first time I had to feed her this week; she screamed a lot this time about how I 'didn't care about her' and how I 'wanted her to die'.

Funny, a parasite screaming at its host about compassion when she's the one that will kill me if I'm not careful, but for now I need her; she's the only thing I have left.

"Satisfied, Lila?" I ask, with not small amount of tiredness in my voice.

"Very, thank you for the feast, my love." Lila's voice comes as a gentle whisper, reminding me yet again to not let my guard down or else she will completely take over my mind.

"Don't call me that again." My voice comes out a little rougher than I intended, but who cares really?

"Okie dokie, can I call you darling then?" Even with my eyes closed, I can see her amused smile.

Ignoring her words, I get out of the bathroom, and reality seemingly starts going back to normal again. Good, I don't like the side effects of the LLTH blockers.