Fiction Writing Friday: Dasha the Forsaken

Originally posted 2016-05-06 12:00:04.

I’m not sure where I am.  It’s dark, damp, and the silence is suffocating.  There’s something preventing me from sitting up, and panic sets in.  Be calm.  I start to move my hands and feel my tiny surroundings.  The walls are so close, made of wood?  What’s that smell?  I don’t smell anything.  My god, am I breathing? I inhale and nothing happens.  Ok.  This is just a dream.  Wait – do I hear voices?  My god am I hearing voices?!

There’s muffled voices, two different ones.  One lower pitched, and one higher.  Female? Male? Orc? Goblin?  No, not Goblin, not Orc either.  Sounds like my mother, old and snarky.  The voices are coming closer, and I can start to hear full sentences.
“… If my Mother saw what I’ve become, she’d probably have heart attack and die.  Again.  Can the undead, die again?” said the higher pitched voice.
“Yeah, you know they call that True Death now among us Forsaken.” responded second dead-thing.
Uhm.  What?!
“Hurry up, we need to find, what’s her name, Fifi? Vivi? Fluffy? Star Lord?” the lower pitched thing asked.
“Rowen, yeah, your brain is starting to rot.  You might want to see what the apothecaries have for that!”
Brains.. Rotting.. Dear Mom: I’ve officially gone insane.”
That’s when I notice the sounds of digging.  Their voices are getting closer and closer, and my fear is rising inch by inch.  Finally, a loud clank happens.
“I think we’ve found the coffin – How badly do you think she’s rotted?  Do you think I could take her hands if she’s gone batty?” Asked the high pitched annoying one.
Oh god, they are going to kill me!  I need to get out I need to get out.  I begin to panic and start scratching at my tiny little death bed. Someone buried me.  Oh my goodness, I’m in the ground! 
Light.  Piercing light, dirt, and two pairs of glowing eyes are staring at me after a rather loud creaky sound.
“Well, she’s still kicking it! Would you look at that!” Laughed the lower pitched… thing.
After my eyes adjusted I took a look at the two freakishly ugly decomposing… body.

The woman, I’m assuming, had hair that stood straight up.  It was black, and her eyes were glowing yellow.  She had holes all over her face, and the rest of her face was held together by stitches; loosely might I add.  There was a maggot in her nose.
“mmmmmmmppbbthhh,” I barely mumbled.
“Now hold on a bit Miss, you’ve just been dug up out of your grave, and you need a second to adjust, otherwi-”
Too late, I puked up maggots and worms, and puked again from the site.  I’m not sure it can be classified as puking though, the maggots and decomposers just sort of fell out of my stomach and nose.  What am I?!

As if the woman-thing new, she spoke up. “Hi, I’m Helen, and this is… Carl.”  Helen laughed, her jaw looking as if it would fall off any moment.
“Please Helen, it’s not that funny. Please excuse her, she thinks ‘Carl’ is a terrible name.  It was the name on the tombstone nearest me.  I was one of the lucky ones; I don’t recall my past life.”
Past life? Remembering? I don’t understand.  Are these things real?
“Oh come on dear, you’re dead.  Well, undead.  You probably died from the plague, and now you’re undead!  We’re hoping you’re Lady Rowen, as someone higher up has been searching for you for quite some time.”
Lady Rowen? What do they want with my Mother?
“Ah, I see.  You’re her daughter, I wasn’t aware she had a child; What is your name?”
… Is she reading my mind?
“Some Forsaken, that means us, don’t have the ability to talk right off the bat, but we’re still able to communicate to each other.  Us Forsaken need to stick together, you know.” Carl winked.  At least I think that’s what that was, part of his skin was missing so I’m not entirely sure what that was.
“My mother, Lady Rowen, was alive the last time I saw her.  I’m Dasha.”
“Nice to meet you Dasha, now let’s get you up out of this coffin.”
They helped me up, my legs weren’t completely useless but they also weren’t the strongest.  My arm had been ripped off, so Carl grabbed it for me and explained I’ll need it later.
“We have people who can re-attach it for you” he chuckled.  I didn’t find it funny.

We began walking back to town, and they asked me if I had remembered anything.
“Well, the last thing I remember is my Mother and I were busy packing some belongings.  My mother had somehow found out about some plague Kel’Thuzad was hiding in cities that his followers were in, and began warning her close friends that we needed to leave.  That’s the last thing I remember before I woke up in darkness.  You said you were looking for my Mother, what exactly do you want with her?”

Carl looked deep in thought, and spoke up a few moments later.  “Orders from the top, love.  Not sure why the Banshee Queen requested us to dig her up; but you’re the only corpse in the area under Lady Rowen’s grave.  This isn’t good news I suspect; but we’ll have to bring you to Deathknell so you can re-enter society again.  Your Mother was a Priest, right? Were you following her foot steps?”

“No, I followed my own path.  Destruction Warlock.”


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