In Belville, a being lurks

*This story is under my folder “Belville has some strange happenings”. Gacha Club character designs are under this forum: https://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic/117842-my-character-designs-lt-33-3?start=240. Enjoy!*

Introduction 

In the small town of Belville, there was a young sixteen year old boy named Dashiell Lockwell, a boy who didn’t believe in much of anything until one day, when he came across a rather unsavory part of the woods. A part where trees decayed with mold and all had smelled of mortifying mildew.

His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lockwell, did not believe that he was sick. Why would he be? Dashiell was physically fine and he wasn’t acting “out of it” either.

Yet still, Dashiell could feel his hunger twist and turn within him…

Chapter One 

Dashiell hugged his arms close to his chest. He knew that it would be cold, but he didn’t realize that it would be excruciatingly so.

Every year on autumn, the town of Belville held a Fall Festival, where there was the usual bobbing for apples, apple picking, Fall treats, and then…

The “corn maze”. 

It was all set up like a corn maze, because there were hay stalks propped up to mimic a maze, but it was all set up in the woods. People liked to call it a “corn maze” because of the way it sounded, even though the maze itself wasn’t actually made of corn.

His parents took him to the Fall festival every year. That one year was the first time Dashiell went in the “corn maze”.

Yes, it was cold. Yes, he lost sight of his parents in the maze.

But he didn’t think that he would hear anything too odd besides the Halloween music on loudspeakers hidden in the stalks…

Chapter Two 

Nothing but the hay stalks in the winding maze. Dashiell kept his arms close together, for his thin long sleeves did nothing to keep him warm.

Then, there was the noise of an ear-piercing scream. Except, the scream was in the mix of the tree branches being whisked by the wind, so it sounded more like a wailing, screeching noise.

Dashiell’s heart beat faster in his rib cage, as though it were about to explode from his chest in bloodied chunks. Where was the exit? How was he going to get out? Why did his parents decide to go in the maze  at all?

What was with that noise?

Chapter Three

No matter. There was a path of hay stalks that was thinner and probably led right back into town.

Dashiell followed the thinning path, trying his best to block out the noise, ignore the beating of his heart, the mold on the stalks. Everything was twisting and turning, he could really use for a candy apple. Why did Halloween have to be so frightening? What was the point? Why couldn’t it just be full of fun?

He made it! He made it out of the woods and into the Halloween festival! His parents were waving him over, grinning and laughing!

He actually made it!

Chapter Four

A FEW HOURS LATER

Dashiell bit into the candy apple, ever too glad to have a treat after so long in the maze. Mom and Dad were also treating themselves to some Halloween treats.

He was surrounded by families all talking amongst themselves, reveling in the joy of the Hallows’ Eve season. It wasn’t the exact day yet, but the anticipation for it was there, in all of their hearts, minds, and souls.

Why was he ever scared in the first place? The fear had faded, there was only delight. Dashiell’s mouth was welcomed by the sugary cinnamon taste of the candy apple. No longer did he taste his own foolish terror. Sometimes, things happened on Halloween that made him overreact.

It was just the wind in the woods. Nothing to worry about.

Chapter Five 

Dashiell was in that maze again. He didn’t hear anything. No odd screech-scream noises. He only felt the emptiness of his own stomach.

What was with his skin? Why was his skin so itchy? Dashiell looked down at his hands. 

There were bloody bruises on the both of them, bruises that went as deep and disgusting as the mold on the hay. How did mold grow on hay? He never saw blue mold spots on hay before. Maybe it was different hay.

He could really go for something to eat. But what? What was out there that he could eat? The hay? The molding hay? No, that would just be too sour. Dashiell needed to eat meat…

But how would he get out?

Dashiell woke up, his body slick with his own sweat, as though he were trapped in a fever.

It was only a nightmare. The maze was just a maze. 

He needed to calm down.

Chapter Six

Yet the next morning, as Dashiell looked at his plate of eggs, he couldn’t help but think of the mold that had grown on the hay. If mold could grow on hay, then what was stopping it from growing on fried eggs? How was he to be sure of anything anymore? How-

“Are you alright? You haven’t touched your breakfast at all.” Mom said.

Dashiell looked up. Both of his parents had fearful expressions on their faces, as though they were deeply worried for him.

“You don’t think that the maze was weird? Did you see any mold growing on it?” Dashiell asked.

Mom and Dad exchanged looks, the kind that said they both agreed that Dashiell was “thinking too much”. Why couldn’t they just take him seriously? Why couldn’t they just listen to him?

“No, I didn’t see any mold. Why do you ask?” Mom asked.

They didn’t see it? They didn’t see it? How could they not notice mold?

“Are you sure? I thought that I saw it.” Dashiell said.

“It must have been the moonlight playing tricks on you. Maybe you were just too tired to really think.” Dad said.

Too tired? That was what he was going with? Too tired? But Dashiell was thinking clearly that night! His vision wasn’t too bad.

Or was it? Or was he really just worrying too much? Should he really just calm down? Was that the key?

Maybe if he didn’t think about it so much, then he would be fine.

Dashiell stabbed his fork into his fried eggs. It was just food, after all. Something to sustain him. Nothing to think too deeply about.

Chapter Seven

FLASHBACK

Why did they always have to look so awfully frightening? Dashiell understood that stores had to look creepy for Halloween, but still, why did they have to go all out? The decorations looked as though they would come alive, like they would snatch him away into the night!

The worst of all was a woman with a faded purple dress and deep, blood red scars throughout her body. She looked like a zombie, only, the organs in her body looked very, VERY lifelike…

The woman waved at Dashiell. He didn’t know how to explain it, he couldn’t fathom it, for when he tried to tell his parents, they told him not to worry, but…

She waved at him.

Chapter Eight

AT SCHOOL

Why did all of the classes have to seem so long? Dashiell knew that they were only a few minutes, but still, it felt so many hours clogged together into months and centuries.

Dashiell tried his best to pay attention in math class, but goodness, when would it end? When would it be time for Lunch? He could really do for some food…

Dashiell felt blood rise up in his lips. He abruptly moved his hand away, surprised to find that he had bitten deep into it.

It was a good thing nobody noticed.

Chapter Nine

AT RECESS 

Dashiell wished that he could get up  and talk to some of the kids, but goodness, he felt like the hunger within him was vast and never-ending.

Right in the distance was a woman with decaying skin and rotten hair. A woman whom Dashiell had seen many years ago…

And in a flash, she was gone.

Chapter Ten

LUNCH PERIOD

Dashiell sat in the cafeteria, chewing away at his sandwich. The woman flickered in and out of his mind, but he tried his best not to think about her.

The sandwich didn’t seem to do much to curb his hunger. Why wasn’t lunch making him feel any better? Usually Dashiell liked lunch period because he could watch everybody else like he was in a movie theater while he ate in peace, but on that day, he felt empty in his stomach and heart.

Why did he feel so peculiar?

Chapter Eleven

There she was. The decaying woman, except she was sitting right next to him. Dashiell found that he couldn’t move, that he was bound to his spot.

“Humans are made of meat, so feast!” The woman grinned. Her voice was raspy, clogged with blood.

Yet still, Dashiell felt that he was dreaming. Right? He had only fallen asleep in the lunchroom. He just had to wake up. He had to realize that he was wrong. He had to-

The bell screeched, awakening Dashiell from his nap. The woman was gone, only the other students lurked about.

It was only a dream.

Chapter Twelve

HISTORY CLASS

The last class of the day had come. History class. The history teacher went on about how anyone who was seen or heard of as different were sent away or killed by the townspeople. All of the same horror show stuff. Dashiell felt sorry for them, but he wasn’t shocked. Not anymore. History was like that. History was about harm.

“There was a woman named Veraminta Fernsby who ate raw meat. Supposedly it helped in living longer. But she was murdered by the village after refusing to leave, declared a witch by many.” The teacher said solemnly.

Right on the projection board was none other than the decaying woman herself, her brown eyes set in stone, her black hair straight, clear-cut lines. Her face had slight wrinkles but not many, she wore a peach ballgown-type dress adorned with tiny pink flowers. In an odd way, she looked like a Princess.

Dashiell’s head buzzed with many questions, the image had jolted him awake.

Could it be that he was haunted by a real spirit?

Chapter Thirteen

GOING BACK HOME

Dashiell walked back home, thoughts of Veraminta circling his head. Her eyes in the photo had looked so emotionless, so smooth. Like she was too busy searching for something to care about life.

Again, the mold and the hunger swam within him. All around him were kids going somewhere with their friends, everyone all connected.

But what about him? Was he destined to be alone? To be hungry? To be haunted by mold?

No, Dashiell should calm down. His thoughts weren’t making sense.

It was Halloween, only time to think of fun things. No time to worry at all.

Chapter Fourteen

BACK HOME

“You’ve got awfully chapped lips, Dashiell. Are you alright?” Mom asked once he opened the front door.

Dashiell licked his lips, cringing as some of his skin fell off. Yes, his lips did feel incredibly dry, but it wasn’t like it was a big deal. Perhaps he just needed to take better care of himself.

“I’m fine. I’ll just get chapstick.” Dashiell said, walking up the stairs to his room.

His lips tasted so sour, so bitter, but he just needed a little bit of chapstick. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.

Just a little bit of chapstick…

 Chapter Fifteen

“Come now, Dashiell. Don’t you want to be taken seriously? You know what you’re experiencing.” A woman’s rasping voice taunted in his room.

No, no. Dashiell was hearing things. He had to just find the chapstick in his junk drawer…however long that took.

“You can’t just act like you can’t hear me. Sooner or later, you’ll have to talk.” The woman said.

Dashiell wiped off the dust particles on his chapstick and took off the cap, glossing his torn-up lips.

“Come back to the corn maze.” The woman said.

Of course, there was no woman, because it was just Dashiell in his room. There was nothing to worry about.

Goodness, why did he overthink so much?

Chapter Sixteen

TO THE FALL FESTIVAL 

His parents liked the “corn maze” so much that they were driving him back. What was there to like about it? There was mold, the turns were confusing, and it was so incredibly cold…

“Do we have to go back?” Dashiell asked. There was nothing to worry about, it was just a maze, but still. It still felt wrong.

“Yes, we do. It’s going to be fun, we’ll be having a ball of a time!”  Dad said, a smile on his face.

“I just didn’t have too much fun in the maze.” Dashiell said. He didn’t want to sound too childish, but he also wanted his feelings to be known.

“Then you don’t have to go in. Simple as that. You can still do other things at the festival. Okay?” Mom asked.

Dashiell didn’t say a word, he only sat in silence, in shock at how easy it was.

He didn’t have to go to the maze.

Chapter Seventeen 

AT THE FALL FESTIVAL 

Dashiell bit into the caramel candy apple, standing next to the carousel. The children laughed as they rode on, not a care in the world. There wasn’t anything to be upset about, so why did he worry at all?

Come now…it’s okay…you can explore now…

Dashiell didn’t move. Why would he follow a sound in the wind? It wasn’t a voice, it was just a sound.

But then, why was it so loud?

Chapter Eighteen

Yet still, Dashiell found himself walking away from the carousel, towards the strange sound of the voice-wind. He tried to move away, but it was as though his bones were being pulled by an invisible string, forcing him to come closer…closer….

He could see a woman decaying right before his eyes, he could hear her anguished screams and he could smell the fire on burning meat, sweat pouring down his forehead.

Oh, Dashiell. This world is so cruel. But food never changes, does it? Such a luxury should be cherished. A woman’s kind, taunting voice whispered in his mind.

She was only talking in his mind, but why was she whispering? Why did she still feel the need to hide? Was her voice so damaged beyond belief that she could barely speak at all?

No, it was just the wind. Dashiell was just tired and walking without knowing where to go. He needed to breathe and calm down.

Everything would be okay.

Chapter Nineteen

Yet Dashiell found himself in the maze, surrounded by the molding stalks of hay, hearing the voice in the wind rise and fall, change with every step he took.

Further and further he went, suddenly remembering that Veraminta Fernsby was starved at a point in her youth, she was left all alone, to rot.

Who starved her still remained a mystery…

Chapter Twenty

And after much walking, Dashiell found himself staring at a loaf of bread that lay on the ground, covered in purple-blue mold, reeking of spoiled flesh.

All I wanted was a slice of bread. Just a slice of bread to eat. Nothing much, just something to fill my stomach with.

Not exactly the most appetizing thing to eat, but he hadn’t eaten in a while, so really, what was the damage?

Chapter Twenty-One

Dashiell bit into the molding bread, for he was all alone, not a soul around to look at him.

Veraminta sat with her legs close to her chest, huddling herself in the corner. A woman’s voice could be heard shouting from behind the doors, a voice filled with anger and malice.

The old memories didn’t stop, they only crept faster upon Dashiell’s skull, like bone claws running alongside his brain.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I told you not to let your powers out! You went around and did it anyway! Oh, you’ll learn! YOU WILL LEARN!” The woman’s voice screamed as Veraminta trembled.

Dashiell could see the ground shrinking, could feel his bones twisting underneath his skin.

What use was not eating? After so many years of being weak, Veraminta would come back with a bite.

Why was everything shrinking? Why did his bones hurt so much? Where was everybody?

Did anybody know where he was?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Veraminta sat in the darkness, her skin rotting, her hunger growing. With every weakened bone, her rage had blossomed.

But then, why was everything around Dashiell shrinking? Why did his bones feel so strangled? Why did nothing ever feel enough?

Tears spilled out of Veraminta’s eyes. She never wanted to hurt a soul, but mother was provoking her so…

Chapter Twenty-Four

And when the doors were opened, Veraminta flung herself outside, channeling all her rage right into the food left on the table, the food her mother left, the food Veraminta wasn’t supposed to touch.

The odd feeling stopped. The ground still looked so far away. Veraminta’s memories stopped screaming in his head…

Dashiell’s head felt it was banged against a wall, blood dripping into his brain…

The ground was so small. So small.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dashiell wanted to move, but he was afraid of making a sound, as though it would alert anyone in earshot and then…

He saw a vision of black cloud his eyes, bar his vision. No words escaped from his lips, no screams petered out of his mouth.

Down, down, he sank to the ground.

Chapter Twenty-Six 

Dashiell found himself in a cave, the cracks on the rocks leaking with liquid mud. He reached out and found that his hand took up the size of the rock, his fingers sharpened like claws.

His body curled up, the cave closing in on him. It was gaining strength, choking him, stifling him.

But what if it wasn’t the cave? What if it was just him? Whatever happened to his body?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Was it he who was gigantic? Was it he who was a monster? No, it could not be. All of it was a strange nightmare, a nightmare of the cave closing in on him, trapping him, choking him…

Could it be that he was a creature of evil? A creature of demons? Or was Dashiell only trapped in his head, did he need only to wake himself up, shock himself to life, jolt him to reality?

Dashiell’s reality never changed, did it?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Don’t be afraid. This is what you should be. You do not take up space, you deserve every part of the world. Veraminta’s voice chanted in his head.

“But I’m monstrously tall, I can’t even crawl out of this cave without making such noise.” Dashiell said, mentally cringing at how raspy and loud his own voice sounded.

Who said you needed to? Stay here and you can take what you want. You have nowhere else to go, anyhow.

It was true, no longer was he human, but a creature as tall as the trees and horribly frightful. He could feel it inside of him just as he knew to breathe, to see.

Dashiell could feel it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad, living in a cave. With such a height as he, Dashiell could eat just about anything. Nothing was poisonous to him, he was more than the world around him.

He could eat just about anyone, too. Goodness, what did human flesh taste like? Was it wonderful and bloody? Was-

No! Why would he ever have such violent thoughts?! Just because Dashiell changed physically didn’t mean that he was a monster in soul…right?

Chapter Thirty

?????? LATER

Dashiell dared not step out of the cave, for he feared what would come next. He ate any animals he could find, the rocks felt like they were going to burrow deep into his skin.

Did his parents miss him? Did they think of him at all? What about Veraminta? Why did she choose to haunt and curse him?

Why him?

Epilogue

Dashiell sat in the cave of Belville, eating animals and feeling far too much for any space he was in.

But he wondered what it would be like if a human were to stumble by, if a human were to creep up to his cave.

However would they taste?