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The Haze of Horror

Time rushed past in a blur after that night. Lin went to her job, cleaned up, and went home. That’s where her cycle shifted, however. Instead of going directly to sleep, she often found herself in the company of the mysterious but alluring flame spirit. Many a night was spent staring into its labyrinthine web, finding patterns and messages where there were none for hours, before slipping into slumber.

Despite its lack of spoken word, over time, it felt as if a new language formed between the pair. Lin could understand it’s feeling about different situations, and the spirits unique perspective on things brought her endless hours of joy.

She tried not to think about drawing or tattooing. Nothing good could come of it. She didn’t see Grizz for weeks after giving him his tattoo. Eventually a new local legend made its way into the concoction shop. A local devil PE coach had been throwing dodgeballs at a bunch of kids, laughing at their tears of pain all the while, when a rope wrapped around his neck. The rope was attached to a blood covered, 2-foot-tall Spanish man with a disfigured face and barely attached limbs. The madman proceeded to strangle Grizz to death, cackling and ranting in Spanish the whole time. By the time the devil had collapsed to the floor, the man had faded to dust.

The dryad child recounting this tale to Lin had borne a massive grin upon her face, one that had slowly slipped from her face as she beheld the pure horror that fell upon Lin hearing this nightmare incarnate. Her stomach twisted into knots and her heart pounded in her ears louder than any concert drum. Reality twisted and for a moment Lin thought she might collapse.

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Stumbling towards the bathroom, a stray glance at the window revealed the flame spirit, wandering through the red clouded day, soaking up stray bits of flame rain as it went. Something about that sight brought her a level of peace. There was no need to panic over whatever tall tale a school child might recount. Lin just had to remember the line between myths and reality. With that confident thought, she returned to her job serving magic potions to the previous denizens of heaven and hell with her troll coworker.

Besides this moment, everything went smoothly for Lin, if a tad plainly. She settled into an easy cycle with just enough pleasure and pain to keep her from noticing the lack of purpose subtly gnawing at her mind. But her mind wasn’t the only discontented part of Lin.

When work slowed and hours passed with nothing to do, Lin’s hands would rebel, seeking out scraps of paper and pencils on their own. Faces, flowers, and entire worlds would be created without Lin’s notice. Whether this ignorance was willful is anyone’s guess, but it served to keep the creative parts of her mind appeased whilst the rigid, terrified factions stayed dormant.

This uneasy peace lasted for a long while, the exact dates impossible to measure given the fluid nature of time. Besides, the time spent within it was of passing interest. It’s the spark of change that catches the eye. It’s the shiny bauble on a keychain, the glittering diamond on a finger, or the glossy red lips parted for a kiss. There’s a draw to it that isn’t all good but is what makes it worth remembering.