Blinking, Noël stared blankly at the wooden ceiling above his head. Having just woken up to a dull, steady pain which was incredibly difficult to pinpoint, he was…unnerved. He felt dazed, trying to decipher as to how and when he had ended up in such an enclosed structure. Why, were it not for his vision, he would not be able to see in such darkness. Moving his arms up, a sharp tinge of pain shot through his heart…realization immediately dawning upon him as dirt started to cascade down……
The unrelenting yet expected cold seeping into his bones could only be the result of being underground in a crypt, cellar, or…coffin.
“How on earth did I end up here?” Coughing, Noël slightly turned to his right and was confronted with the sight of archaic cloth walls eaten by moths and various other multi-legged insects. Decayed rose petals and cobwebs were scattered throughout the wooden coffin.
Grimacing, the vampire’s eyes flickered downwards as another jolt of pain seeped through his heart.
Mouth agape in slight disbelief, Noël fixed his gaze on a wooden stake protruding through his chest. Blood slowly welled up from the wound as he attempted to chase a spider away. Indignantly, the boy could only see red as he continued to stare at the haphazardly constructed weapon.
“Did Annabelle try to murder me!!?”
“How rude; I’d like to think I’m worth more than a stake through the heart.” While Noël possessed no recollections of how the strange girl managed to kill him, anyone would be hard pressed to remember the exact circumstances of their death. “She could’ve at least used a dagger…it would have been a much cooler death.”
“Nonetheless, I should find a way out of this mess.” Sighing, Noël glared upward towards a faded, moldering burial shroud that had been dumped none too gently on top of his head. “And once I do…I’ll be sure to berate her for doing such a shoddy job.”
And yet…the perplexed vampire could not help a feeling of unease to wash over him. In his heart, he knew Annabelle was not the culprit of the strange predicament he found himself in. But, if she truly was innocent, then who could be blamed? A slight nagging at the corner of his mind pleaded with him to forget, but…if he were to leave the enclosed space of this coffin, where would he end up?
More importantly…how would he feel about the ‘outside’ world?
He could let the familiar chill of never-ending dreams lull him back to an eternal rest, but…he just had to feel the warmth of the sun, even for a singular moment. A jolt of pain through his chest diluted his gradually erratic thoughts of unease. Surely, more tragedies would not befall him.
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Afterall, he was already dead.
While he was certain he and Annabelle went their separate ways not too long ago, he couldn’t help but view their time together through a distorted lens. It…felt as if he’d known her for decades, but words eluded him. Ripping out the wooden stake in one swift move, Noël immediately brought his attention towards the rusted nails adorning the coffin’s lid. Droplets of blood splattered the faded cloth interior of the casket as he slowly made work of hacking off the corroded nails.
“Finally…I wonder who I must have angered to warrant burying me in such a gaudy coffin.” Muttering a silent prayer to some unspecified god, Noël yanked open the casket lid as the last nail clattered away…only to be met with the unwelcome and yet highly expected sight of dirt.
“Oh, for fu—”
Red eyes glowering in contempt, his curse was cut short as the casket was encased once more.
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Spitting out another mouthful of dirt, the disgruntled vampire kicked the wreckage of his coffin in complete and utter disdain.
“Next time I’m getting cremated.” For good measure, he picked up a small boulder and chucked it over his grave. “It’s not like I’d be welcome to the Day of Judgment.”
Now that he had finally been freed from his coffin, Noël was completely lost. A faint breeze ruffled his hair as an array of orange leaves gracefully descended towards the earth. Judging from the large assortment of grave markers, he appeared to be in an abandoned cemetery. Though, were it not for the remains of the casket he escaped from, Noël would not have known it was used as a place of burial.
“I see…whoever didthis must have not wanted anyone to find me……” Noël halfheartedly mused. “Though, they regretfully did a terrible job if Miss Annabelle had happened upon me.”
Quietly, Noël stepped through weathered, nameless graves and decayed vines that almost appeared to be withered hands slowly reaching for something or someone. He felt befuddled as the distant chirp of birds marred the otherwise silent atmosphere of the lonesome cemetery. Despite the apparent chill of the graveyard, Noël could feel absolutely nothing.
“I must look absolutely dreadful,” Noël darkly considered as he apprehensively made his way towards a dark, murky body of water. While he could not see his own reflection, there was a certain person he would like to greet. “Though, it’s definitely nothing that I would not be able to mend.”
“Miss Lila…yes, she would know what to do……” Noël muttered to himself as he gazed at the tranquil pond. As if on cue, long strands of dark brown hair gradually began to materialize from within the murky water.
A soft whisper cut through the air as hazy purple eyes stared expectantly at the dead-eyed boy. “My dear, how many times have I told you to stop calling me that?
“I apologize, Miss Lila. Force of habit,” Noël apologized…seemingly unapologetic. “Long time no see, Miss Witch. How have you been?”
“Oh, never mind me…I’m glad to see you’ve finally woken up!” the witch, Lila, lightheartedly exclaimed. While her image was an intangible visage, she was a much appreciated and familiar sight. Despite what one may hear about witches from tales of yore, Lila’s appearance was quite unorthodox. As opposed to the typical pointy hat one might imagine, perched haphazardly upon her long, dark hair was instead a frilly, brown hat. And while her image was faded, one could still see a faint smile on her translucent face.
“It’s been awfully lonely having no one to speak with.” Dressed in a simple brown dress and a plain white apron, the witch looked like a princess from an old fairy tale with how she gazed placidly from her place within the water. “You’ve never been great at conversations, but even you’re better than nothing.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” the white-haired vampire repeatedly apologized. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Smile slightly wavering, Lila tilted her head as she gazed unseeingly towards Noël. “Yes, give or take fifty years.”
Noël nearly stumbled into the small pond as he processed Lila’s words. “How…how could I have been asleep for nearly half a century!!?”
“Don’t look so glum; I’m sure you’ve had wonderful dreams!”
“I saw the devil herself,” Noël dully responded. “And her zombie magpie familiar.”
“Devils don’t have familiars, dearie.” Humming, Lila carefully regarded him. “Your hair will turn white if you stress too much…oh, wait…I’m sorry……”