Username: hamkid
User ID: 299978
Participating Chicoon:
Spritely [ghost/they]
Prompt:
...The
whatty what pit now?
Whatever this... Sweaty Screm Pit was, it sounded like the beginning to a horror story. Disembodied screams in the middle of the night? Haunting. Positively chilling. Nevermind the curfew; this was something Spritely
had to check out, nevermind risking their life to find out what it was. When a mystery calls, ghost knows they must answer the call; ghost would never be satisfied unless they found out what secrets the mysterious wailing abyss held in its... Loud... Very loud... And very very dark... Depths. What was the cause of all the ruckus? Is the Scream Pit endless, or could something hit the bottom if it fell long enough? Ghost had to know, and with that, had to go when midnight loomed around the corner, as if Spritely was drawn to it, mothman drawn to a campfire's flame.
When ghost arrived, they stared into the darkness. It almost felt like it was staring back at them, even if they couldn't see any eyes. Something inside ghost's heart stirred; the urge to
scream, to shout, to channel every bit of screamable feeling into the depths of the wailing well. If a chicoon's vocal cords weren't meant for screaming, how would they yell back to the pit? Would they flap their wings as hard and as fast as they could to make up for what they couldn't verbalize? Too many thoughts.
Must... Do... Something......Spritely felt satisfied as ghost channeled as much of their energy into their cry, because when the void screams,
you scream back.