Post by Batman on Oct 7, 2013 14:01:54 GMT -5
SWAMP THING #3 100 YEARS
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Story By: Batman and Wonder Woman
Heroes: Swamp Thing, Abigail Arcane
Villains: None
[The day always starts the same for Dick Horsham and his lovely wife Mary Elizabeth-Horsham. They crawl from pouches of warmth stitching suspended above the ground until dusk when the bleeding of yellow splatters through their bedroom window. He doesn’t speak; his mind is on the mortgage. She doesn’t ask, too afraid of another argument. Dick brushes his teeth, Mary brushes her hair. Something changes around them, today it’s his Ex-girlfriend called after leaving town for 5 years, she wants to meet up for coffee with him. Dick shared this news with Mary, they argued, they screamed, they hugged, and confessed love to each other. The elements seemed right, but they weren’t working out. Mary could feel their distance growing; Dick insisted that there was no distance.
Inside he felt that he had given everything to Mary, he was working so they could keep the house, she should be grateful for his hard work! They share breakfast in a kitchen of silence, he scrolls through the latest Iphone for a job. She scrolls through her Ipad for fantasy.]
[Their parents went to work and there was no school during the summer, five teenagers snuck off to the old Griswold plantation. Screaming and echoes echoed from the house when it was in his prime in 1844…Jeremiah Griswold had Slaves on the plantation grounds tilling the forest, his daughter, and his lonely wife. Griswold was known for his screaming and shouting, but his frustration was never taken out on the slaves, no his wife was the major outlet to the man’s abuse -- Or so the tales say. The man died on natural causes, though some say his wife poisoned him and moved far away. They’re just stories, ghosts aren’t real, and there are no, *monsters.*]
Mike, Daniel, Jung, Christina, and Rebecca came to the plantation covered in roots and vines as the house stood as it did all those years ago, its recent owners had bought it but never used the property for anything. Wooden floor boards creaked as nike shoes came to rest upon the moldy and sliced wood. Mike pointed towards the ceiling. “It’s like that movie, Joomugi!” Christina would interject. “Let’s hope there aren’t any Alligators in here!” Daniel would protest “Al-alligators! I told you guys this was a bad idea!” “Shut up, if you act like a chicken, you’re gonna get eaten by an alligator.” The kids began to split up, Mike, Daniel, and Christina went down a left hall way while Jung and Rebecca went down a right hallway.
Abigail Arcane: Monsters in fact did exsist, though long ago Abby learned that they weren't always easy to identify. Sometimes a monsterous appearance would hide an inner beauty, and more often than not a pretty shell could hide an evil far greater than the most imaginative of nightmares. She let out a sigh, combing her fingers back through her white hair. The thick smell of damp earth, wet grass adn night blooming flowers assaulted her senses, but always tinged with something else. It didn't matter how far away she tried to go, half a world away from the centre of power for the Rot, Arcane could still feel it. She would always feel it though, that much had become obvious; she was it as much as it was her, and it was everywhere. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, and off in the distance a wild dog called its lonesome call. Again, her right hand brushed back, her ring and pinky fingers gripping the strands that constantly fell across her eyes, holding them at the back of her neck.
At one point she had cut off all her hair, but it had grown back quickly; it was now down to her shoulders, still with the trade mark black streak falling to the left and to the right. Somethings just couldn't be changed. And that's why she was here, in an old family home in the swamp, at the same time comforted and pained by her surroundings and the solitude of it all.
@};~~{In a place of seclusion, outside of time he drifted through a sea of green, weaved like a spiders web, each root, every seed, every vine accessible within moments, or seconds in the mortal plane. Within that Louisiana swamp a flock of fronds wiggled back and forth within a softly moving bog of water.} Ssshhkt…Ssshlosh! @};~~{An emerald blade twisted and wound as a second and third vine broke up beneath the moist soil to create a skeletal leg with an identical twin soon after. A pod grew between them as more vines rose up from the surface of the water to reinforce layers of moss and fungus, waterlogged vines and branches shaped into his design creating an overbearing creature of green flowers and bulky structure. Amber eyes settled on the surrounding as the elemental observed the nature around him, when a sense of something familiar came to bear within him.
He thought about Abby, he thought about Matt, Buddy, and John. There was a world that he had seen beyond this one. The idea of alternate worlds, the ability to travel through time, all of it was astonishing. He realized he clung to his humanity, plants encouraged him to let it go, there was no need for it when the sun was so nutritious, with the soil rich and ripe for new growth. He looked around, a sensation familiar; a connection only obtained through eating his fruit.} “…Abby…?” @};~~{He spoke softly and immediately began searching for her, he hadn’t seen her since that day in the Parliament, the day she went away for what would seem like forever.}
Abigail Arcane: The darkness was beginning to set in, and while it would bring reprieve to the heat of the day, it was a damp chill that set into one's bones. She could remember it from the time before, the feeling of dred that would come when the sun dipped blow the horizon, but as of now there was nothing to fear. Nothing but the nagging voices in the back of her head. She was still haunted by them, and she would always be. In more than one way, she belonged to them more than she belonged to herself now. The Rot, the Parliment of Decay; she was their avatar, the checker of balance in the world. If given clearance, the Green and Red would over run the world, destroying each other in the process, ignorant of the fact that one could not survive without the other two. Her uncle failed to realize this, instead perverting the Rot to his own machinations, making it the servant to his twisted fantasies in the same way he had done to Abby in her youth and childhood.
Standing upon the balcony she watched as the last golden rays disappeared from between the trees, letting out a soft sigh. Her eyes closed and she fought back the sadness over what this had costed her. With so much at stake, it was impossible to suggest she hadn't made the right decision, but that didn't make the bitter pill any easier to swallow. She missed him, dearly, every moment, and living here was torture, a self imposed purgatory. Flagilation on par with the most pious monks of the dark ages. She missed not only his touch, but the solitude, the quiet, only he could provide her. The voices subsided when she was with him, and for a brief moment she had known true peace.
@};~~{He approached her from behind, stopping at a tree line overlooking the wooden house, his droopy beads mourning at her new form. He didn’t care what she was or what she looked like, he had become this for her, in a past life she had made love to him despite their biological differences. As either could explain, the physical body was but material compared to the joining of conscience.} “…Abby…” @};~~{A large hand splintered towards her with digits sprawled out like a trunk of a tree. His hand reaching to hold hers.} “Why…are you here? It’s good to see you…” @};~~{He smiled raising that droopy expression. His horns were currently not shaped giving him a mound for a head placed on top of his shoulders.}
Rebecca and Jung entered the kitchen where a furnace full of black soot and coals lingered. Rebecca cleared her throat out of fear, as Jung stepped closer to look over the messy scene. “It smells like its been active.” Rebecca placed her hand onto her chest and gasped. “Maybe there’s something living here…” “Or someone…” Jung and her nervously laughed between each other. Mike, Christina, and Daniel found themselves in the living room when Mike opened a closet door that revealed to be a basement. “Hey…lets see what’s down here! ” “I…don’t…” Rebecca shoved Daniel. “Don’t be a chicken or the alligators will eat you.” “Al-alligators!?”
Abigail Arcane: Her head bent down, slightly skewed to the right, as her arms wrapped around her form, leathery, dark wings wrapping her entirely in shadows. She missed her old form, even if she had at times resented her looks for what they had brought on her. It took years, and the tender patience of a good man, and the love of an even better one, to come to terms with what had happened; that it had never been her fault, nor the fault of her appearance. She had learned to accept herself, and then... While his presence was not entirely surprising, she had returned to a place she knew he could find her easily enough, Abby was not sure whether he would come. There was always doubt, fed by the Rot and their desire to possess her all to theirselves, a nagging reminder of her family's link to Decay. Her right hand slid from her left arm, sliding between her leathery wings. If she could cry, his voice would certainly have brought tears to her eyes as a smile tried to pull on her lips.
"I missed you," she shook her head, her voice still possessing the softness of her former self. "I'm being selfish... " she took a deep breath, sliding her hand into his. She didn't know how her parliment would react, but it would not be happy being shut out of her mind by him. Where Life exists, Death cannot reach, and the same was true in reverse, and yet she wished to be exactly where she could not be. "There is something happening here... Not in this house, but in the area. I can feel it. I should end it, but I wish to be with you." She turned to face him. "They will not be pleased with me." It was a statement, no judgement meant.
@};~~{He held her hand gently, his conscience could suddenly feel her presence; the fruit he had given her long ago still seeded and created a link beyond astral and ethereal planes. A secret communication unique to one another.} “…Abby…What is it that you sense…? …What is wrong?...Where *death* trends, *life* will soon flourish and end…”
[She could sense the presence of torture, he was screaming, he was *hungry* for something that was all too familiar to those that were surrounded by death. A hunger for vengeance, she would know a mortal soul was to be taken soon, a young man was about to die and more were to follow. She would conflict with her duty and personality, taking the life of a young teenager and letting them free.
Their location would be revealed soon and she would be able to appear instantly to the scene all but too late, however; the screaming would not stop, his pain was too great for something she did not understand. Vengeance and anger clouded her sense of direction and location, if only he would stop for a moment!] Christina and Mike quickly ran out of the basement and slammed the door behind them as Daniel screamed. “WHERE ARE YOU GUYS! DON’T LEAVE ME!” Both children laughed hysterically as Daniel was now locked in the basement inside the darkness. “Watch out! There’s a monster down there Daniel!” “Ha ha! Don’t let it eat you!”
Abigail Arcane: She smiled to him, her dark lips curling back from her teeth, bone white as they had always been but sharper, more menacing than when she was mortal. It was not that she had lost her beauty that terrified her about a reunion with Swamp Thing, it was that she, like he, was at constant risk of losing her humanity. Her mouth opened to speak, but stalled without forming a word as the white orbs of her eyes widened. Alec could look around, but what she was seeing was not -here-, but rather -there-. Death was coming to a young life, which bothered Abby not because it was death, but it was unnatural. It was tortured. There was pain, unjustifiable pain and suffering. While her conscience was moved to the location of the teenagers, the young boy trapped in the basement with a monster of legend, her body remained where she was, standing at Alec's side, though her hand would not so much "hold" his any more, so much as it rested in hsi grip.
"We need to go," her voice would quiver as the dark skinned creature looked up at her former lover, drawing strength from him and pulling herself to her feet. "I have to go." There was a real fear in her voice, remnants of what she had felt and picked up from the house. "It is not far; two plantations over."
@};~~{Swamp Thing’s gaze began to fill with concentration as those once soft beads drew closer together, a gaze familiar to Abby whenever her life was in jeopardy whether it was by Anton Arcane, John Constantine, or Batman. Something disturbed the most important person in his life and nothing was going to stop him from intervening if at all possible.} “Lets go…”
[The horrific screaming drew close and soon the Queen of Rot would suddenly felt the death of a young boy, the screaming silenced as Rebecca screamed at the top of her lungs, Jung was trapped inside the furnace and burned alive, her hands were covered in black iron attempting in futility to free her friend, but now it was too late. His decaying flesh was burning and his screams became hers. The two pranking teenagers shifted from the door and ran from one side of the house to the other, Mike charged as fast as he long legs could carry him.
He passes a threshold confident that he could halt the disturbance of a blood curling scream, when a cry broke out behind him, not of Daniel but of Christina. Damn! Where did she go? She was right behind him.] “MICHAEL!!!!” [She screamed, her ankle had caught the edge of a chair’s leg, twisting her before slamming into the floor before the door to the living room slammed shut locking behind Michael. Was he running fast enough that the double doors just sealed behind him? That must’ve been what happened!] “Christina! The door is stuck! I’ll find a way to get to you, just hang on!” [He kicks with his might but, the door does not budge. He grows tired and wary of energy, he takes a detour, further into the house…]
Abigail Arcane: She took to the air, though her head swam with the pain and echoed screams of the disembodied victims. She didn't know who they are, nor did she know what the cause of their terror was, but she understood that their deaths were unnatural and were not as they should be. Young lives, when cut short, deserved nothing less than a painless end. Her leathery wings, which would look far too torn and tattered to be of any use, lifted her off the ground as she looked down at Alec. He could follow her, she had told him where she was going, but his presence, welcomed as it was, was not required. The self sacrificing Arcane would gladly leave him behind, knowing and trusting the Avatar of the Green to be safe, away from the unknown terrors she was about to face, but she knew to actually open her mouth and voice those wishes would be to over step an unspoken boundary.
Regardless of the physical danger, he would support and follow her into Hell itself if he had to, and his courage, stupid and blind as it could be at times, was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Her forlorn look broke with his and she took off towards the abandoned building, clipping a tree barren of life as the pain and terror felt by Jung locked in the furnace and Rebecca watching him die distracted her. Her course was corrected and she moved with ever more intent.
[Jung would be left full of decay and rotting flesh as Rebecca screamed to the point of tears she curled herself into a corner and wrapped her arms around her legs. Heavy footsteps trailed through the hallways, it was Oldman Griswold, she was certain of it and she was about to be his next victim. The pitch black of the kitchen, iron instruments weighed 1/3 of her weight and far too heavy for the meek teenager to lift. She grasped at a Kitchen knife rusted and moldy. She waved the knife around and screamed.] “Stay away!” [Michael stopped hearing footsteps race above him but, as a sheet of invisible frost chilled his bones he continued running before tripping upon a wooden toy train, Michael tumbled and fell into a cleaning closet. He panted, his tiny heart beating with pain, the footsteps drew near and Michael would dare not move an inch until the crawling sensation of a spider upon his arm caused him to swat the insect into a pool of disgusting entrails. ]
[His blue eyes took sight of something his legs were resting upon…a pair of shackles forged in iron with a weighted ball hidden beneath a ragged mop. Michael touched the shackles before they would spring to life and clamp onto his wrists. ‘YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!’ the shouting echoed in his head, Michael struggled to get away from the chains, to seek freedom of this bondage. The footsteps drew near when a floating object stood before Michael; a wooden bat crafted from Griswolds Pappy for a rocking chair. Abigail would sense the next death, as Michael’s screams echoed throughout the house.]
@};~~{The Swamp Thing took to flight and followed Abby, amber eyes soaked the vision of darkened clouds, the foul stench of black magic twisted within him, something was terribly wrong…nature and its natural order and balance was being twisted into something else. He landed at the front door to the old plantation reaching for the bronze handle he opened the door and walked inside to look around. Fungal foot prints left stains of darkened wood hallowed beneath him. They were decaying but, he could still manipulate the mold within the boards and the fiber of their creation. He turned his head to hear Christina crying from the injury to her leg, behind double doors the Swamp Thing approached.}
Abigail Arcane: Her body blended into the shadows, her landing less than graceful as she crashed to the ground as she felt Michael's last breath leave his lungs, accompanied by a painfilled scream. She fell flat on her face and stomach, pushing up with her hands before bringing her knees under her returning to a standing position. The closer she got, the stronger the feelings became, which was only natural; she had experienced the same thing with her empathy when she was a mortal. Stepping into the home she could immediately sense the teenagers, as even when alive there was always something in a state of decay on any being. Swamp Thing found the girl in the kitchen, "Get her outside, the magic is weaker there; there is a second girl in the basement," she whispered softly, trying to minimize her presence to the already paniced teen. Alec was frightening, but Abby knew how she appeared, and the walking Salad was far less imposing than she with her classical demonic look.
Leaving Alec to save the girls, the only ones still certain of survival, the ones who hadn't yet been fully claimed by Death, Abby ventured deeper into the house, feeling the twists and sensory augmenting of a foul curse. She would come across the boy, still stubbornly clinging to life through fear and teenage tenacity. "Shh," she whispered softly, noticing as his body, broken and twisted, clearly beaten by some unseen force, twitched trying to get away from her. "I mean you no harm," her voice came softly to him as the Avatar of the Rot leaned forward, pressing a tender, almost motherly, kiss to the youth's forehead. She collected him against her, his body no longer feeling any of the pain lingering in his broken limbs. His light would be extinguished, but unlike his friends, Michael would find peace in his last moments, an act that would no doubt raise the ire of the haunting spirit.
Releasing his physical form, Abby rose to her feet again, still trying to think of the next step. Anton had been so good at that, and he had taught her chess in an attempt to educate the young woman in the skill of foresight, but like every memory that he tainted, Abby had worked hard to over come the resistence to his useful teachings.
[Danny was locked in the basement calling for help; Christina was in the dining room, crippled upon the floor only capable of hearing Danny’s cries while Rebecca was in the kitchen. Michael’s body was settled inside some kind of trophy room where pictures of the Griswold family stood, but there was one picture that was different and not of boasting of Old man Griswold, it was the picture of a black family hugging an old woman in the middle. ]
@};~~{Swamp Thing pushed at the double doors leading to Christina but they were jammed or something. Amber eyes squished together and anger filled the Swamp creatures features of vines and moss. Teeth of marrow clutched against each other and full strength of the monster came down upon the door forcing it to break apart into an odd angle, another shove and suddenly the old hinges snapped out of the wood. Christina’s skin fell pale as a ghost gazing at the large green monster. He offered his hand to her.} “Come…Not…Safe here.” @};~~{He spoke slowly, deep heaves of breathing escaped him, Christina would force herself to stand without the Swamp Thing’s help and then she slowly moved past him.} “Where is…everyone else…?” “I…I don’t know…”
@};~~{His large feet carried him towards the basement where Danny’s screams were heard a large green hand ripped the door open and took the first step onto the stairs causing them to break and squash into a puddle of fungus and mol dripping from his form. He stood up and looked around.} “Come out…I’m…here to save you.” Danny would crawl amongst iron shackles in the basement, his body would brush against the decaying bones of a skeleton that quickly caused him to scream, and the chains would latch onto Danny’s arm after releasing the skeleton. The swamp Creature would grab the boys shackled arm to suddenly merge with it, Danny screamed as moss and fungus wrapped around his arm within the shackle only to encase him with an oak wood like armor.}
Abigail Arcane: As she listened, she could feel relief, mixed with incredible anger, rushing over the building. Alec was saving the teenagers, one by one. Her smile was not to be denied as she continued to feel through the area, eyes closed. There was a thick history of death, hanging in the building like a heavy, wet moss. The young boy whom she had guided to his end was not the first, nor if the inhabiting spirit had his way, would he be the last. "Show yourself," she commanded, bringing up her best, strongest tone, which was not the norm for the white haired woman. Even as a mortal, unless she was defending Alec or Tefe, Abigail was rather demure. Quiet and reserved even. Her eyes came across the pictures, the one of the black family standing out. That the plantation once had slaves came as no surprise to Abby, but that the family would hang photographs, or even go through the trouble of taking them, was a shock.
Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward to look closer, while all around her death screamed for more and she chose to ignore it. A dark finger pressed against the glass of the leather frame, wiping way years of dust from the yellowed photograph.
[Abigail would suddenly hear laughing behind her, a window to the outside would reveal an image as though it were yesterday. An outdoor picnic and over the horizon the slaves tilled the field, slaves placed food out as Mrs. Griswold and her daughter sang “You are my sunshine…my only sunshine…You make me--…” The scene was calm and beautiful when a small slave boy stumbled to the daughter, worlds apart and yet his hand carried one of them simplest messages. He offered the girl a dandy lion when a sudden shout screamed across the yield “What are you doing?! Get that nigger spawn away from muh daughter!” Commotion was riled and groups of people rushed to grab the boy protective ushering him away, the slaves repeated their apologies as Mr. Griswold took a swing of his whiskey. In a moment the images would fade and the backyard would once more transform into a forest of trees and plants deprived of sunlight.]
[Christina wouldn’t wait for Danny or Swamp Thing, she looked around and then trodden up the stairs to find herself in a girls bedroom.] “Rebecca?” Christina would jump upon seeing a black boy sitting upon the girls bed, she furrowed her eyebrows and tapped him on the shoulder. “Wha…who are you?” The boy would vanish and the footsteps would clutter behind her as the invisible bat approached Christina…]
@};~~{Swamp Thing’s arm snapped open the iron chains like flakes of skin shedding from a snake. Swamp Thing gripped Danny’s hand and tugged him.} “Come…Must get you and your friends away from here.”
Abigail Arcane: The laughter and the sweet scene, tarnished though theyy were by the hateful words of Griswold in his drunken, racist stupor, warmed Abby momentarily. There was something to be said about the tragic quality of the slave boy and the plantation owner's daughter's love, something Abigail herself could empathise with even without her skills. She pressed a hand to the window, letting out a breath she hadn't even been aware that she had been holding as the scene faded away, the striped, thick bands of sunshine breaking through the canopy of trees surrounding the over grown building. The sun was beginning to set, and as such time was getting short. She would feel the tension rising as someone came up the stairs, real footsteps, a real person. Turning, Abigail's hair whipped up into a white wave as her shoulders and neck snapped and her body darted down the hallway towards the feeling. It was Abby's appearance that saw the girl turn and scream in terror. -c-
Between them hovered the baseball bat, though it hesitated for a moment, no doubt sensing Abigail. "Run, Christina," she said, her voice sounding far sweeter than the teen had expected. "Please don't hurt me!" she screamed, falling backwards on the bed. "I am not here to hurt you, you must leave,' she urged, trying to locate the presence in the room but finding it a much harder task. The bat was her only clue, but Arcane was experienced enough to know that in the realm of the otherwordly, simply beacuse an object manipulated by a spirit was in one place, it did not stand to reason that the manipulator was in the same place.
[Killer Queen’s eyes would fall upon the ghost of the little boy holding the bat and as she sought to intervene the room would flash into another moment in time. Mr.Griswold came into the room holding the bat in hand. “Where were you earlier?” “Out in the field with Blanche.” “Damn it! You lying to me again? You hanging with that nigger weren’t you? Niggers and White folk don’t mix! I thought you learn from the last time I whip you but, this time I got something that’ll teach you...” The slave boy swung the stick of wood at Christina striking her across the head causing her to crash into the floor.]
@};~~{Swamp Thing swam through the darkness only to arrive at the cellar door that had been long boarded and chained close. Clutching his fists he heaved a deep huff and smashed open the wooden boards causing a loud blast of fragmented wood. Immediately he felt his power growing as the green reached out to him. Swamp Thing stepped aside and waved for Danny to leave.} “Stay within the Green…It will protect you.” “The…Green? Everything is green, what do you mean?” @};~~{Danny wasted no time in rushing out and standing by a tree to watch the plantation as it grew darker.}
Abigail Arcane: She felt the pain in the little soul, realizing the legends had it wrong. It was not the ghost of Griswold that haunted the plantation, but rather a spirit, brought about by the evil committed by the old man, which continued to spout his anger and evil. As the apperition lashed out at Christina , knocking her to the floor, Abigail intervened, reaching within herself and calling upon the Rot to help her. From within her, a powerful, single word rose past her lips, "Enough!" She rarely used their powers, even know as the Avatar, for it hurt and it disgusted her, and ultimately brought memories of her uncle far too close to the surface. The little boy's death had been violent; the night after he beat his daughter, he had gone into the slave house and pulled the young boy from his crying mother's arms. Many voices cried out for mercy as the boy was given lash after lash, his back bright red with the blood trickling down from deep gashes caused by the lick of the whip.
Griswold cursed the boy, and his race, vile hatred spouting from him in a manner that was unsuprising, but still unsettling, for Abby. Transporting herself back from the past, Abby was face to face with the unaged vision of the child. "They cannot hurt you," she whispered, her voice softening as she commanded his attention, the unconcious form of Christina remained on the floor, unresponsive and unmoving.
@};~~{The black boy growled at Abigail and vanished leaving Christina unconscious on the floor. Swamp Thing would appear behind Abby peering into the room.} “I have them out…” [Outside Rebecca and Danny waited patiently for their friends who may or may not escape the old plantation alive.] @};~~{He frowned seeing the small girl lying about on the floor.} “I think this place is haunted…” @};~~{Alec had knowledge and experience dealing with ghosts who haunted the living, Alec imagined Abby might’ve too given the past knowledge and vast information the Rot shared with her.} “We must find his corpse and give him a proper burial…” @};~~{Beads of amber stared at her blankly in the way Alec used to do when going into a thoughtful state of mind. It would then occur to him that there was a skeleton in the basement shackled to the wall. It was buried back behind rumble.} “…Abby…” @};~~{A soft rumbling voice of Swamp Thing’s throat called to her.}
[Abby would sense through some supernatural and shared bond that not even the Green or Rot could take away from them. Somehow she would suddenly be able to sense the pain and suffering it was coming from the basement. A pyramid of bones that were encased with wrappings to prevent decay, they were treated with salt and other chemicals of nature and then suddenly locked in a box full of sand. The boy was trapped in this house, forsaken from journeying into the afterlife, how many years have passed by with this torment watching his family and friends move on until eventually he was all that was left. Griswold wouldn’t have the last laugh, as the Slave boy’s haunted spirit shoved the wicked man into the Furnace and burned him alive while the entire family had been outside celebrating the 16th birthday of Griswold’s Daughter.]
Abigail Arcane: She turned to see Alec, then gestured towards the girl. "She needs to be with her friends," she whispered softly, letting her hand brush against his upper arm, feeling the Rot recoil as she touched the avatar of the Green. "It is, horrible things have happened," they faced each other, Abigail's eyes shifting, moving away and turning her face from his. "I know where the body is; the Rot knows. Take care of the girl, she is the only other survivor," she said solemnly. Her heart ached for all the pain in this house, wondering for a moment what she would feel in her own former home, in Transylvania where her Uncle... Well, no time for those thoughts right now. She moved past Alec and followed the direction of the Rot downstairs, then into the cellar. A wall had been crudly attached near the furnace, the brickwork and mortar far inferior to the rest of the foundation, signalling without even reaching out to the Rot she was looking in the right direction.
Clawed fingers pulled the earthen bricks from their rest, crushing them easily and exposing the body, mummified and preserved in an environment designed so that the old man could come back and witness his own "triumph." She broke the shackles, rusted from the salt and the moisture in the air, the salt used to protect the body from the dampness of the swamp. Carefully, as though the skeletal remains were of her own blood, Abby craddled them in her arms. Beside her, the little black boy's ghost formed, a mixed look of panic and curiosity on his face. "You're going home," she said softly, reaching out with one hand, curling it around the apparition's cheek. "Home?" She nodded, holding the skeleton to her as one would a sleeping child, hips resting on her forearm, her free hand reaching down to take the ghost child's hand, leading him upstairs.
[They walked into the back of the plantation a lullaby of crickets singing a parting song, fireflies flew across the garden glittering bursts of a thousand tiny stars flickering. Mosquitoes flew in search of new prey, birds settled into their nests.]
@};~~{Swamp Thing would arrive a moment later to see Abby holding the corpse of bones once disassembled and broken apart now reshaped into a skeleton by Abby’s new power. This was the change Humans were suppose to bring to their respective parties, Alec Holland brought moderation to natural hunger of plants, an irony of a human teaching nature about taming greed. Abby brought something else to the Rot, a natural comfort and soothing nature. Death didn’t have to be scary, it was a part of the system and though violent in life the ending should always have some level of peace. Thoughts about Deadman and even the Spectre came to him as he wondered what their place was within the world of vengeance and death.}
Abigail Arcane: Indeed, with the issue so close to resolution, Abby had developed a serene expression. In dealing with children, she always had a soft hand and a maternal instinct that those who are faultless should not suffer. She possessed the serene expression of one confident with what needed to be done, and fully capable of fullfilling that promise. Her white eyes met with Alec's, and it was only a soft gesture, a twitch of her head, that would signal he should follow her. Leading the way into the swamp, Abigail seemed to know where hte path lay. In truth, she was following a deeper nature, following the call of her parliment. Where ever there was death in great numbers, the Rot would be able to hear it call. She pushed through the heavy foliage, eventually coming to what at one point, a hundred years ago, had been a clearing. It was the slave cemetary. The child's family, mother, father, everyone he had known who remained on the plantation with him, were burried here.
He should know that peace. With the tender care of a mother, she laid the skeleton down, and with her bare hands began to dig the earth away. With a little time, an invisible hand joined her. She would see the child's ghost, but Alec would merely see the dirt moving, seemingly of its own accord.
@};~~{Swamp Thing would be able to see the boy at last revealing himself to both avatars of nature’s cycle. Swamp Thing’s memories sunk into a moment in time where Swamp Thing needed bury the body and Alec Holland, a haunted ghost of a man, the last request of his past life called upon Swamp Thing to give proper burial, It would conclude him Swamp Thing coming to solace with who he was and bring content in knowing that Alec Holland was now in the afterlife with his beloved Linda Holland, he waved both of them off into the afterlife. Some years later…something happened, Swamp Thing couldn’t remember but, he found himself once again burying Alec Holland but, this time it was with Abigail Arcane, were they married? He pondered the idea of the matter, perhaps that was in a past life.
But soon the Swamp Thing realized Abigail and the boy were waiting and he felt silly. He lifted his hand and suddenly the Earth gave way creating a shelter for the boy’s remains to enter its final sleep. Swamp Thing would arrive next to Abby and place his hand upon her shoulder.} “Will you…be okay?”
Abigail Arcane: When the hole was deep and wide enough for the body to be laid to rest without bending it into an unnatural angle, Abby set the bones within the comfort of the warm earth, watching the boy step inside and lay down, his body matching up perfectly with the skeleton before having a moment's hesitation. He bounced from his grave, diving towards Abby and wrapping his etherial arms around her. A human would feel cold should an apparition attempt to touch them, Abby merely felt a lightness, like a breath of wind barely there. "Thank you," he said, though Abby would never know if the words were truly spoken, if Alec heard them, or if it was a psychic communication between her and the boy. And she would never ask. The child resumed his previous position, allowing Abby and Alec to bury him. His hand was warm, warmer than usual, on her shoulder, her neck bending so her cheek could caress the back of his hand, letting him feel the slight dampness there upon. -c-
"Yes," she whispered, her voice having a finality as her body turned, shoulders curling in under the wrap of her leathery wings, letting her face be burried against the vegetation of Swamp Thing's chest. "Call me a sucker for star crossed lovers," she said, her voice almost bitter as she looked up at him, revealing a smile and a shimmer in her eyes, letting Alec know that while she was sore at not being able to be with him, she would always want it, always desire his company and welcome him. "But I can't help but feel for him." Her head turned to the fresh pile of dirt. "But sometimes the heart wants what it cannot have..." her voice became soft and distant.
@};~~{A smile fell upon his face as the Earth swallowed the decaying remains.} “…Balance is restored…We did a good thing today…Abby.” @};~~{Red beady eyes shaped like large olives glanced across her dark blue skin with dark indents, seeing the beauty of who she was. The spirit of the woman he loved dwelled within this monster and the thought didn’t come twice as he felt compelled to kiss her, his arm wrapped around her waist to settle upon her hip while a vegetated arm colored of moss and grass wrapped underneath her shoulder to support her body against his. Lime flavored lips would attempt to press against hers. A unique bond would stir within their minds. That separated place that was beyond the reach of the Green or the Rot and was exclusive to Abby and Alec after she had tasted his fruit as a human.}
[Digits sprinkle across a glass sealed circuit board springing to life a vast sea of information delivered into the hands of the reader, the chattering of ambience is heart breaking, the options are winding down. Just a few more days and they’ll hold their head above water, he’ll get a lucky break and she’ll win the lottery. The day always starts the same for Dick Horsham and his lovely wife Mary Elizabeth-Horsham…Dick drives to work, screaming at a pickup truck that cuts him off before the express way. Mary is dropped off on his way to work, at the Town’s shopping center plastered in marked cardboard. She has no education; she was raised in a poor home but, high morals. She punches the clock and immediately shuffles through lonely aisles of tan shelves carrying the weight of tin and paper stretching as far as the eye could see. White blocks spotted with faded gray stretch across the surface of each aisle.]
To be continued in...SWAMP THING #4 - UNDYING LOVE!
Story By: Batman and Wonder Woman
Heroes: Swamp Thing, Abigail Arcane
Villains: None
[The day always starts the same for Dick Horsham and his lovely wife Mary Elizabeth-Horsham. They crawl from pouches of warmth stitching suspended above the ground until dusk when the bleeding of yellow splatters through their bedroom window. He doesn’t speak; his mind is on the mortgage. She doesn’t ask, too afraid of another argument. Dick brushes his teeth, Mary brushes her hair. Something changes around them, today it’s his Ex-girlfriend called after leaving town for 5 years, she wants to meet up for coffee with him. Dick shared this news with Mary, they argued, they screamed, they hugged, and confessed love to each other. The elements seemed right, but they weren’t working out. Mary could feel their distance growing; Dick insisted that there was no distance.
Inside he felt that he had given everything to Mary, he was working so they could keep the house, she should be grateful for his hard work! They share breakfast in a kitchen of silence, he scrolls through the latest Iphone for a job. She scrolls through her Ipad for fantasy.]
[Their parents went to work and there was no school during the summer, five teenagers snuck off to the old Griswold plantation. Screaming and echoes echoed from the house when it was in his prime in 1844…Jeremiah Griswold had Slaves on the plantation grounds tilling the forest, his daughter, and his lonely wife. Griswold was known for his screaming and shouting, but his frustration was never taken out on the slaves, no his wife was the major outlet to the man’s abuse -- Or so the tales say. The man died on natural causes, though some say his wife poisoned him and moved far away. They’re just stories, ghosts aren’t real, and there are no, *monsters.*]
Mike, Daniel, Jung, Christina, and Rebecca came to the plantation covered in roots and vines as the house stood as it did all those years ago, its recent owners had bought it but never used the property for anything. Wooden floor boards creaked as nike shoes came to rest upon the moldy and sliced wood. Mike pointed towards the ceiling. “It’s like that movie, Joomugi!” Christina would interject. “Let’s hope there aren’t any Alligators in here!” Daniel would protest “Al-alligators! I told you guys this was a bad idea!” “Shut up, if you act like a chicken, you’re gonna get eaten by an alligator.” The kids began to split up, Mike, Daniel, and Christina went down a left hall way while Jung and Rebecca went down a right hallway.
Abigail Arcane: Monsters in fact did exsist, though long ago Abby learned that they weren't always easy to identify. Sometimes a monsterous appearance would hide an inner beauty, and more often than not a pretty shell could hide an evil far greater than the most imaginative of nightmares. She let out a sigh, combing her fingers back through her white hair. The thick smell of damp earth, wet grass adn night blooming flowers assaulted her senses, but always tinged with something else. It didn't matter how far away she tried to go, half a world away from the centre of power for the Rot, Arcane could still feel it. She would always feel it though, that much had become obvious; she was it as much as it was her, and it was everywhere. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, and off in the distance a wild dog called its lonesome call. Again, her right hand brushed back, her ring and pinky fingers gripping the strands that constantly fell across her eyes, holding them at the back of her neck.
At one point she had cut off all her hair, but it had grown back quickly; it was now down to her shoulders, still with the trade mark black streak falling to the left and to the right. Somethings just couldn't be changed. And that's why she was here, in an old family home in the swamp, at the same time comforted and pained by her surroundings and the solitude of it all.
@};~~{In a place of seclusion, outside of time he drifted through a sea of green, weaved like a spiders web, each root, every seed, every vine accessible within moments, or seconds in the mortal plane. Within that Louisiana swamp a flock of fronds wiggled back and forth within a softly moving bog of water.} Ssshhkt…Ssshlosh! @};~~{An emerald blade twisted and wound as a second and third vine broke up beneath the moist soil to create a skeletal leg with an identical twin soon after. A pod grew between them as more vines rose up from the surface of the water to reinforce layers of moss and fungus, waterlogged vines and branches shaped into his design creating an overbearing creature of green flowers and bulky structure. Amber eyes settled on the surrounding as the elemental observed the nature around him, when a sense of something familiar came to bear within him.
He thought about Abby, he thought about Matt, Buddy, and John. There was a world that he had seen beyond this one. The idea of alternate worlds, the ability to travel through time, all of it was astonishing. He realized he clung to his humanity, plants encouraged him to let it go, there was no need for it when the sun was so nutritious, with the soil rich and ripe for new growth. He looked around, a sensation familiar; a connection only obtained through eating his fruit.} “…Abby…?” @};~~{He spoke softly and immediately began searching for her, he hadn’t seen her since that day in the Parliament, the day she went away for what would seem like forever.}
Abigail Arcane: The darkness was beginning to set in, and while it would bring reprieve to the heat of the day, it was a damp chill that set into one's bones. She could remember it from the time before, the feeling of dred that would come when the sun dipped blow the horizon, but as of now there was nothing to fear. Nothing but the nagging voices in the back of her head. She was still haunted by them, and she would always be. In more than one way, she belonged to them more than she belonged to herself now. The Rot, the Parliment of Decay; she was their avatar, the checker of balance in the world. If given clearance, the Green and Red would over run the world, destroying each other in the process, ignorant of the fact that one could not survive without the other two. Her uncle failed to realize this, instead perverting the Rot to his own machinations, making it the servant to his twisted fantasies in the same way he had done to Abby in her youth and childhood.
Standing upon the balcony she watched as the last golden rays disappeared from between the trees, letting out a soft sigh. Her eyes closed and she fought back the sadness over what this had costed her. With so much at stake, it was impossible to suggest she hadn't made the right decision, but that didn't make the bitter pill any easier to swallow. She missed him, dearly, every moment, and living here was torture, a self imposed purgatory. Flagilation on par with the most pious monks of the dark ages. She missed not only his touch, but the solitude, the quiet, only he could provide her. The voices subsided when she was with him, and for a brief moment she had known true peace.
@};~~{He approached her from behind, stopping at a tree line overlooking the wooden house, his droopy beads mourning at her new form. He didn’t care what she was or what she looked like, he had become this for her, in a past life she had made love to him despite their biological differences. As either could explain, the physical body was but material compared to the joining of conscience.} “…Abby…” @};~~{A large hand splintered towards her with digits sprawled out like a trunk of a tree. His hand reaching to hold hers.} “Why…are you here? It’s good to see you…” @};~~{He smiled raising that droopy expression. His horns were currently not shaped giving him a mound for a head placed on top of his shoulders.}
Rebecca and Jung entered the kitchen where a furnace full of black soot and coals lingered. Rebecca cleared her throat out of fear, as Jung stepped closer to look over the messy scene. “It smells like its been active.” Rebecca placed her hand onto her chest and gasped. “Maybe there’s something living here…” “Or someone…” Jung and her nervously laughed between each other. Mike, Christina, and Daniel found themselves in the living room when Mike opened a closet door that revealed to be a basement. “Hey…lets see what’s down here! ” “I…don’t…” Rebecca shoved Daniel. “Don’t be a chicken or the alligators will eat you.” “Al-alligators!?”
Abigail Arcane: Her head bent down, slightly skewed to the right, as her arms wrapped around her form, leathery, dark wings wrapping her entirely in shadows. She missed her old form, even if she had at times resented her looks for what they had brought on her. It took years, and the tender patience of a good man, and the love of an even better one, to come to terms with what had happened; that it had never been her fault, nor the fault of her appearance. She had learned to accept herself, and then... While his presence was not entirely surprising, she had returned to a place she knew he could find her easily enough, Abby was not sure whether he would come. There was always doubt, fed by the Rot and their desire to possess her all to theirselves, a nagging reminder of her family's link to Decay. Her right hand slid from her left arm, sliding between her leathery wings. If she could cry, his voice would certainly have brought tears to her eyes as a smile tried to pull on her lips.
"I missed you," she shook her head, her voice still possessing the softness of her former self. "I'm being selfish... " she took a deep breath, sliding her hand into his. She didn't know how her parliment would react, but it would not be happy being shut out of her mind by him. Where Life exists, Death cannot reach, and the same was true in reverse, and yet she wished to be exactly where she could not be. "There is something happening here... Not in this house, but in the area. I can feel it. I should end it, but I wish to be with you." She turned to face him. "They will not be pleased with me." It was a statement, no judgement meant.
@};~~{He held her hand gently, his conscience could suddenly feel her presence; the fruit he had given her long ago still seeded and created a link beyond astral and ethereal planes. A secret communication unique to one another.} “…Abby…What is it that you sense…? …What is wrong?...Where *death* trends, *life* will soon flourish and end…”
[She could sense the presence of torture, he was screaming, he was *hungry* for something that was all too familiar to those that were surrounded by death. A hunger for vengeance, she would know a mortal soul was to be taken soon, a young man was about to die and more were to follow. She would conflict with her duty and personality, taking the life of a young teenager and letting them free.
Their location would be revealed soon and she would be able to appear instantly to the scene all but too late, however; the screaming would not stop, his pain was too great for something she did not understand. Vengeance and anger clouded her sense of direction and location, if only he would stop for a moment!] Christina and Mike quickly ran out of the basement and slammed the door behind them as Daniel screamed. “WHERE ARE YOU GUYS! DON’T LEAVE ME!” Both children laughed hysterically as Daniel was now locked in the basement inside the darkness. “Watch out! There’s a monster down there Daniel!” “Ha ha! Don’t let it eat you!”
Abigail Arcane: She smiled to him, her dark lips curling back from her teeth, bone white as they had always been but sharper, more menacing than when she was mortal. It was not that she had lost her beauty that terrified her about a reunion with Swamp Thing, it was that she, like he, was at constant risk of losing her humanity. Her mouth opened to speak, but stalled without forming a word as the white orbs of her eyes widened. Alec could look around, but what she was seeing was not -here-, but rather -there-. Death was coming to a young life, which bothered Abby not because it was death, but it was unnatural. It was tortured. There was pain, unjustifiable pain and suffering. While her conscience was moved to the location of the teenagers, the young boy trapped in the basement with a monster of legend, her body remained where she was, standing at Alec's side, though her hand would not so much "hold" his any more, so much as it rested in hsi grip.
"We need to go," her voice would quiver as the dark skinned creature looked up at her former lover, drawing strength from him and pulling herself to her feet. "I have to go." There was a real fear in her voice, remnants of what she had felt and picked up from the house. "It is not far; two plantations over."
@};~~{Swamp Thing’s gaze began to fill with concentration as those once soft beads drew closer together, a gaze familiar to Abby whenever her life was in jeopardy whether it was by Anton Arcane, John Constantine, or Batman. Something disturbed the most important person in his life and nothing was going to stop him from intervening if at all possible.} “Lets go…”
[The horrific screaming drew close and soon the Queen of Rot would suddenly felt the death of a young boy, the screaming silenced as Rebecca screamed at the top of her lungs, Jung was trapped inside the furnace and burned alive, her hands were covered in black iron attempting in futility to free her friend, but now it was too late. His decaying flesh was burning and his screams became hers. The two pranking teenagers shifted from the door and ran from one side of the house to the other, Mike charged as fast as he long legs could carry him.
He passes a threshold confident that he could halt the disturbance of a blood curling scream, when a cry broke out behind him, not of Daniel but of Christina. Damn! Where did she go? She was right behind him.] “MICHAEL!!!!” [She screamed, her ankle had caught the edge of a chair’s leg, twisting her before slamming into the floor before the door to the living room slammed shut locking behind Michael. Was he running fast enough that the double doors just sealed behind him? That must’ve been what happened!] “Christina! The door is stuck! I’ll find a way to get to you, just hang on!” [He kicks with his might but, the door does not budge. He grows tired and wary of energy, he takes a detour, further into the house…]
Abigail Arcane: She took to the air, though her head swam with the pain and echoed screams of the disembodied victims. She didn't know who they are, nor did she know what the cause of their terror was, but she understood that their deaths were unnatural and were not as they should be. Young lives, when cut short, deserved nothing less than a painless end. Her leathery wings, which would look far too torn and tattered to be of any use, lifted her off the ground as she looked down at Alec. He could follow her, she had told him where she was going, but his presence, welcomed as it was, was not required. The self sacrificing Arcane would gladly leave him behind, knowing and trusting the Avatar of the Green to be safe, away from the unknown terrors she was about to face, but she knew to actually open her mouth and voice those wishes would be to over step an unspoken boundary.
Regardless of the physical danger, he would support and follow her into Hell itself if he had to, and his courage, stupid and blind as it could be at times, was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Her forlorn look broke with his and she took off towards the abandoned building, clipping a tree barren of life as the pain and terror felt by Jung locked in the furnace and Rebecca watching him die distracted her. Her course was corrected and she moved with ever more intent.
[Jung would be left full of decay and rotting flesh as Rebecca screamed to the point of tears she curled herself into a corner and wrapped her arms around her legs. Heavy footsteps trailed through the hallways, it was Oldman Griswold, she was certain of it and she was about to be his next victim. The pitch black of the kitchen, iron instruments weighed 1/3 of her weight and far too heavy for the meek teenager to lift. She grasped at a Kitchen knife rusted and moldy. She waved the knife around and screamed.] “Stay away!” [Michael stopped hearing footsteps race above him but, as a sheet of invisible frost chilled his bones he continued running before tripping upon a wooden toy train, Michael tumbled and fell into a cleaning closet. He panted, his tiny heart beating with pain, the footsteps drew near and Michael would dare not move an inch until the crawling sensation of a spider upon his arm caused him to swat the insect into a pool of disgusting entrails. ]
[His blue eyes took sight of something his legs were resting upon…a pair of shackles forged in iron with a weighted ball hidden beneath a ragged mop. Michael touched the shackles before they would spring to life and clamp onto his wrists. ‘YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!’ the shouting echoed in his head, Michael struggled to get away from the chains, to seek freedom of this bondage. The footsteps drew near when a floating object stood before Michael; a wooden bat crafted from Griswolds Pappy for a rocking chair. Abigail would sense the next death, as Michael’s screams echoed throughout the house.]
@};~~{The Swamp Thing took to flight and followed Abby, amber eyes soaked the vision of darkened clouds, the foul stench of black magic twisted within him, something was terribly wrong…nature and its natural order and balance was being twisted into something else. He landed at the front door to the old plantation reaching for the bronze handle he opened the door and walked inside to look around. Fungal foot prints left stains of darkened wood hallowed beneath him. They were decaying but, he could still manipulate the mold within the boards and the fiber of their creation. He turned his head to hear Christina crying from the injury to her leg, behind double doors the Swamp Thing approached.}
Abigail Arcane: Her body blended into the shadows, her landing less than graceful as she crashed to the ground as she felt Michael's last breath leave his lungs, accompanied by a painfilled scream. She fell flat on her face and stomach, pushing up with her hands before bringing her knees under her returning to a standing position. The closer she got, the stronger the feelings became, which was only natural; she had experienced the same thing with her empathy when she was a mortal. Stepping into the home she could immediately sense the teenagers, as even when alive there was always something in a state of decay on any being. Swamp Thing found the girl in the kitchen, "Get her outside, the magic is weaker there; there is a second girl in the basement," she whispered softly, trying to minimize her presence to the already paniced teen. Alec was frightening, but Abby knew how she appeared, and the walking Salad was far less imposing than she with her classical demonic look.
Leaving Alec to save the girls, the only ones still certain of survival, the ones who hadn't yet been fully claimed by Death, Abby ventured deeper into the house, feeling the twists and sensory augmenting of a foul curse. She would come across the boy, still stubbornly clinging to life through fear and teenage tenacity. "Shh," she whispered softly, noticing as his body, broken and twisted, clearly beaten by some unseen force, twitched trying to get away from her. "I mean you no harm," her voice came softly to him as the Avatar of the Rot leaned forward, pressing a tender, almost motherly, kiss to the youth's forehead. She collected him against her, his body no longer feeling any of the pain lingering in his broken limbs. His light would be extinguished, but unlike his friends, Michael would find peace in his last moments, an act that would no doubt raise the ire of the haunting spirit.
Releasing his physical form, Abby rose to her feet again, still trying to think of the next step. Anton had been so good at that, and he had taught her chess in an attempt to educate the young woman in the skill of foresight, but like every memory that he tainted, Abby had worked hard to over come the resistence to his useful teachings.
[Danny was locked in the basement calling for help; Christina was in the dining room, crippled upon the floor only capable of hearing Danny’s cries while Rebecca was in the kitchen. Michael’s body was settled inside some kind of trophy room where pictures of the Griswold family stood, but there was one picture that was different and not of boasting of Old man Griswold, it was the picture of a black family hugging an old woman in the middle. ]
@};~~{Swamp Thing pushed at the double doors leading to Christina but they were jammed or something. Amber eyes squished together and anger filled the Swamp creatures features of vines and moss. Teeth of marrow clutched against each other and full strength of the monster came down upon the door forcing it to break apart into an odd angle, another shove and suddenly the old hinges snapped out of the wood. Christina’s skin fell pale as a ghost gazing at the large green monster. He offered his hand to her.} “Come…Not…Safe here.” @};~~{He spoke slowly, deep heaves of breathing escaped him, Christina would force herself to stand without the Swamp Thing’s help and then she slowly moved past him.} “Where is…everyone else…?” “I…I don’t know…”
@};~~{His large feet carried him towards the basement where Danny’s screams were heard a large green hand ripped the door open and took the first step onto the stairs causing them to break and squash into a puddle of fungus and mol dripping from his form. He stood up and looked around.} “Come out…I’m…here to save you.” Danny would crawl amongst iron shackles in the basement, his body would brush against the decaying bones of a skeleton that quickly caused him to scream, and the chains would latch onto Danny’s arm after releasing the skeleton. The swamp Creature would grab the boys shackled arm to suddenly merge with it, Danny screamed as moss and fungus wrapped around his arm within the shackle only to encase him with an oak wood like armor.}
Abigail Arcane: As she listened, she could feel relief, mixed with incredible anger, rushing over the building. Alec was saving the teenagers, one by one. Her smile was not to be denied as she continued to feel through the area, eyes closed. There was a thick history of death, hanging in the building like a heavy, wet moss. The young boy whom she had guided to his end was not the first, nor if the inhabiting spirit had his way, would he be the last. "Show yourself," she commanded, bringing up her best, strongest tone, which was not the norm for the white haired woman. Even as a mortal, unless she was defending Alec or Tefe, Abigail was rather demure. Quiet and reserved even. Her eyes came across the pictures, the one of the black family standing out. That the plantation once had slaves came as no surprise to Abby, but that the family would hang photographs, or even go through the trouble of taking them, was a shock.
Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward to look closer, while all around her death screamed for more and she chose to ignore it. A dark finger pressed against the glass of the leather frame, wiping way years of dust from the yellowed photograph.
[Abigail would suddenly hear laughing behind her, a window to the outside would reveal an image as though it were yesterday. An outdoor picnic and over the horizon the slaves tilled the field, slaves placed food out as Mrs. Griswold and her daughter sang “You are my sunshine…my only sunshine…You make me--…” The scene was calm and beautiful when a small slave boy stumbled to the daughter, worlds apart and yet his hand carried one of them simplest messages. He offered the girl a dandy lion when a sudden shout screamed across the yield “What are you doing?! Get that nigger spawn away from muh daughter!” Commotion was riled and groups of people rushed to grab the boy protective ushering him away, the slaves repeated their apologies as Mr. Griswold took a swing of his whiskey. In a moment the images would fade and the backyard would once more transform into a forest of trees and plants deprived of sunlight.]
[Christina wouldn’t wait for Danny or Swamp Thing, she looked around and then trodden up the stairs to find herself in a girls bedroom.] “Rebecca?” Christina would jump upon seeing a black boy sitting upon the girls bed, she furrowed her eyebrows and tapped him on the shoulder. “Wha…who are you?” The boy would vanish and the footsteps would clutter behind her as the invisible bat approached Christina…]
@};~~{Swamp Thing’s arm snapped open the iron chains like flakes of skin shedding from a snake. Swamp Thing gripped Danny’s hand and tugged him.} “Come…Must get you and your friends away from here.”
Abigail Arcane: The laughter and the sweet scene, tarnished though theyy were by the hateful words of Griswold in his drunken, racist stupor, warmed Abby momentarily. There was something to be said about the tragic quality of the slave boy and the plantation owner's daughter's love, something Abigail herself could empathise with even without her skills. She pressed a hand to the window, letting out a breath she hadn't even been aware that she had been holding as the scene faded away, the striped, thick bands of sunshine breaking through the canopy of trees surrounding the over grown building. The sun was beginning to set, and as such time was getting short. She would feel the tension rising as someone came up the stairs, real footsteps, a real person. Turning, Abigail's hair whipped up into a white wave as her shoulders and neck snapped and her body darted down the hallway towards the feeling. It was Abby's appearance that saw the girl turn and scream in terror. -c-
Between them hovered the baseball bat, though it hesitated for a moment, no doubt sensing Abigail. "Run, Christina," she said, her voice sounding far sweeter than the teen had expected. "Please don't hurt me!" she screamed, falling backwards on the bed. "I am not here to hurt you, you must leave,' she urged, trying to locate the presence in the room but finding it a much harder task. The bat was her only clue, but Arcane was experienced enough to know that in the realm of the otherwordly, simply beacuse an object manipulated by a spirit was in one place, it did not stand to reason that the manipulator was in the same place.
[Killer Queen’s eyes would fall upon the ghost of the little boy holding the bat and as she sought to intervene the room would flash into another moment in time. Mr.Griswold came into the room holding the bat in hand. “Where were you earlier?” “Out in the field with Blanche.” “Damn it! You lying to me again? You hanging with that nigger weren’t you? Niggers and White folk don’t mix! I thought you learn from the last time I whip you but, this time I got something that’ll teach you...” The slave boy swung the stick of wood at Christina striking her across the head causing her to crash into the floor.]
@};~~{Swamp Thing swam through the darkness only to arrive at the cellar door that had been long boarded and chained close. Clutching his fists he heaved a deep huff and smashed open the wooden boards causing a loud blast of fragmented wood. Immediately he felt his power growing as the green reached out to him. Swamp Thing stepped aside and waved for Danny to leave.} “Stay within the Green…It will protect you.” “The…Green? Everything is green, what do you mean?” @};~~{Danny wasted no time in rushing out and standing by a tree to watch the plantation as it grew darker.}
Abigail Arcane: She felt the pain in the little soul, realizing the legends had it wrong. It was not the ghost of Griswold that haunted the plantation, but rather a spirit, brought about by the evil committed by the old man, which continued to spout his anger and evil. As the apperition lashed out at Christina , knocking her to the floor, Abigail intervened, reaching within herself and calling upon the Rot to help her. From within her, a powerful, single word rose past her lips, "Enough!" She rarely used their powers, even know as the Avatar, for it hurt and it disgusted her, and ultimately brought memories of her uncle far too close to the surface. The little boy's death had been violent; the night after he beat his daughter, he had gone into the slave house and pulled the young boy from his crying mother's arms. Many voices cried out for mercy as the boy was given lash after lash, his back bright red with the blood trickling down from deep gashes caused by the lick of the whip.
Griswold cursed the boy, and his race, vile hatred spouting from him in a manner that was unsuprising, but still unsettling, for Abby. Transporting herself back from the past, Abby was face to face with the unaged vision of the child. "They cannot hurt you," she whispered, her voice softening as she commanded his attention, the unconcious form of Christina remained on the floor, unresponsive and unmoving.
@};~~{The black boy growled at Abigail and vanished leaving Christina unconscious on the floor. Swamp Thing would appear behind Abby peering into the room.} “I have them out…” [Outside Rebecca and Danny waited patiently for their friends who may or may not escape the old plantation alive.] @};~~{He frowned seeing the small girl lying about on the floor.} “I think this place is haunted…” @};~~{Alec had knowledge and experience dealing with ghosts who haunted the living, Alec imagined Abby might’ve too given the past knowledge and vast information the Rot shared with her.} “We must find his corpse and give him a proper burial…” @};~~{Beads of amber stared at her blankly in the way Alec used to do when going into a thoughtful state of mind. It would then occur to him that there was a skeleton in the basement shackled to the wall. It was buried back behind rumble.} “…Abby…” @};~~{A soft rumbling voice of Swamp Thing’s throat called to her.}
[Abby would sense through some supernatural and shared bond that not even the Green or Rot could take away from them. Somehow she would suddenly be able to sense the pain and suffering it was coming from the basement. A pyramid of bones that were encased with wrappings to prevent decay, they were treated with salt and other chemicals of nature and then suddenly locked in a box full of sand. The boy was trapped in this house, forsaken from journeying into the afterlife, how many years have passed by with this torment watching his family and friends move on until eventually he was all that was left. Griswold wouldn’t have the last laugh, as the Slave boy’s haunted spirit shoved the wicked man into the Furnace and burned him alive while the entire family had been outside celebrating the 16th birthday of Griswold’s Daughter.]
Abigail Arcane: She turned to see Alec, then gestured towards the girl. "She needs to be with her friends," she whispered softly, letting her hand brush against his upper arm, feeling the Rot recoil as she touched the avatar of the Green. "It is, horrible things have happened," they faced each other, Abigail's eyes shifting, moving away and turning her face from his. "I know where the body is; the Rot knows. Take care of the girl, she is the only other survivor," she said solemnly. Her heart ached for all the pain in this house, wondering for a moment what she would feel in her own former home, in Transylvania where her Uncle... Well, no time for those thoughts right now. She moved past Alec and followed the direction of the Rot downstairs, then into the cellar. A wall had been crudly attached near the furnace, the brickwork and mortar far inferior to the rest of the foundation, signalling without even reaching out to the Rot she was looking in the right direction.
Clawed fingers pulled the earthen bricks from their rest, crushing them easily and exposing the body, mummified and preserved in an environment designed so that the old man could come back and witness his own "triumph." She broke the shackles, rusted from the salt and the moisture in the air, the salt used to protect the body from the dampness of the swamp. Carefully, as though the skeletal remains were of her own blood, Abby craddled them in her arms. Beside her, the little black boy's ghost formed, a mixed look of panic and curiosity on his face. "You're going home," she said softly, reaching out with one hand, curling it around the apparition's cheek. "Home?" She nodded, holding the skeleton to her as one would a sleeping child, hips resting on her forearm, her free hand reaching down to take the ghost child's hand, leading him upstairs.
[They walked into the back of the plantation a lullaby of crickets singing a parting song, fireflies flew across the garden glittering bursts of a thousand tiny stars flickering. Mosquitoes flew in search of new prey, birds settled into their nests.]
@};~~{Swamp Thing would arrive a moment later to see Abby holding the corpse of bones once disassembled and broken apart now reshaped into a skeleton by Abby’s new power. This was the change Humans were suppose to bring to their respective parties, Alec Holland brought moderation to natural hunger of plants, an irony of a human teaching nature about taming greed. Abby brought something else to the Rot, a natural comfort and soothing nature. Death didn’t have to be scary, it was a part of the system and though violent in life the ending should always have some level of peace. Thoughts about Deadman and even the Spectre came to him as he wondered what their place was within the world of vengeance and death.}
Abigail Arcane: Indeed, with the issue so close to resolution, Abby had developed a serene expression. In dealing with children, she always had a soft hand and a maternal instinct that those who are faultless should not suffer. She possessed the serene expression of one confident with what needed to be done, and fully capable of fullfilling that promise. Her white eyes met with Alec's, and it was only a soft gesture, a twitch of her head, that would signal he should follow her. Leading the way into the swamp, Abigail seemed to know where hte path lay. In truth, she was following a deeper nature, following the call of her parliment. Where ever there was death in great numbers, the Rot would be able to hear it call. She pushed through the heavy foliage, eventually coming to what at one point, a hundred years ago, had been a clearing. It was the slave cemetary. The child's family, mother, father, everyone he had known who remained on the plantation with him, were burried here.
He should know that peace. With the tender care of a mother, she laid the skeleton down, and with her bare hands began to dig the earth away. With a little time, an invisible hand joined her. She would see the child's ghost, but Alec would merely see the dirt moving, seemingly of its own accord.
@};~~{Swamp Thing would be able to see the boy at last revealing himself to both avatars of nature’s cycle. Swamp Thing’s memories sunk into a moment in time where Swamp Thing needed bury the body and Alec Holland, a haunted ghost of a man, the last request of his past life called upon Swamp Thing to give proper burial, It would conclude him Swamp Thing coming to solace with who he was and bring content in knowing that Alec Holland was now in the afterlife with his beloved Linda Holland, he waved both of them off into the afterlife. Some years later…something happened, Swamp Thing couldn’t remember but, he found himself once again burying Alec Holland but, this time it was with Abigail Arcane, were they married? He pondered the idea of the matter, perhaps that was in a past life.
But soon the Swamp Thing realized Abigail and the boy were waiting and he felt silly. He lifted his hand and suddenly the Earth gave way creating a shelter for the boy’s remains to enter its final sleep. Swamp Thing would arrive next to Abby and place his hand upon her shoulder.} “Will you…be okay?”
Abigail Arcane: When the hole was deep and wide enough for the body to be laid to rest without bending it into an unnatural angle, Abby set the bones within the comfort of the warm earth, watching the boy step inside and lay down, his body matching up perfectly with the skeleton before having a moment's hesitation. He bounced from his grave, diving towards Abby and wrapping his etherial arms around her. A human would feel cold should an apparition attempt to touch them, Abby merely felt a lightness, like a breath of wind barely there. "Thank you," he said, though Abby would never know if the words were truly spoken, if Alec heard them, or if it was a psychic communication between her and the boy. And she would never ask. The child resumed his previous position, allowing Abby and Alec to bury him. His hand was warm, warmer than usual, on her shoulder, her neck bending so her cheek could caress the back of his hand, letting him feel the slight dampness there upon. -c-
"Yes," she whispered, her voice having a finality as her body turned, shoulders curling in under the wrap of her leathery wings, letting her face be burried against the vegetation of Swamp Thing's chest. "Call me a sucker for star crossed lovers," she said, her voice almost bitter as she looked up at him, revealing a smile and a shimmer in her eyes, letting Alec know that while she was sore at not being able to be with him, she would always want it, always desire his company and welcome him. "But I can't help but feel for him." Her head turned to the fresh pile of dirt. "But sometimes the heart wants what it cannot have..." her voice became soft and distant.
@};~~{A smile fell upon his face as the Earth swallowed the decaying remains.} “…Balance is restored…We did a good thing today…Abby.” @};~~{Red beady eyes shaped like large olives glanced across her dark blue skin with dark indents, seeing the beauty of who she was. The spirit of the woman he loved dwelled within this monster and the thought didn’t come twice as he felt compelled to kiss her, his arm wrapped around her waist to settle upon her hip while a vegetated arm colored of moss and grass wrapped underneath her shoulder to support her body against his. Lime flavored lips would attempt to press against hers. A unique bond would stir within their minds. That separated place that was beyond the reach of the Green or the Rot and was exclusive to Abby and Alec after she had tasted his fruit as a human.}
[Digits sprinkle across a glass sealed circuit board springing to life a vast sea of information delivered into the hands of the reader, the chattering of ambience is heart breaking, the options are winding down. Just a few more days and they’ll hold their head above water, he’ll get a lucky break and she’ll win the lottery. The day always starts the same for Dick Horsham and his lovely wife Mary Elizabeth-Horsham…Dick drives to work, screaming at a pickup truck that cuts him off before the express way. Mary is dropped off on his way to work, at the Town’s shopping center plastered in marked cardboard. She has no education; she was raised in a poor home but, high morals. She punches the clock and immediately shuffles through lonely aisles of tan shelves carrying the weight of tin and paper stretching as far as the eye could see. White blocks spotted with faded gray stretch across the surface of each aisle.]
To be continued in...SWAMP THING #4 - UNDYING LOVE!