Chapter 17: Ding Dong

Author notes:

I'm back with one helluva chapter! Never thought I would make a chapter like this though but it turned out great, if I must say so myself.

Also, woke up on the good side of the bed few dys ago. Have a damn good dream, or is it a vision? Was it just a figment of my imagination that result in the weird last chapter? Who knows at this point lol. I consider it canon if that's what you've been wondering. I will elaborate it more in the future. Anyway, on to the chap!

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The curtain of the night has befallen the city of Arash. After the unsuccessful forage into the city early in the day, the Ustians decided to make do with their gain and hunker down for the night. Even though they know that this run won't be an easy one, the losses of many spearhead groups demoralized them quite a bit. Now they can only bide their time licking their wounds inside the many abandoned houses.

One such house is now the home of two squads of Ustian conscripts, their faces betraying their inner insecurities. One of them, deciding that they've had enough with the stiff atmosphere, stands up.

"Bete, what are you doing?" One of them, tucking himself in a corner, questioned the man.

Bete, putting his rifle down at the doorway leading to the kitchen, answers. "I'm hungry, gotta find meself something to eat man."

The guy snickers in return. "If you manage to find some good loot back there, be sure to share it with the boys. I can feel the chilly fog seeping through my bones, even though I'm tucked in here."

Bete noncommittally says back at his fellow conscript. "Yeah, yeah. If I manage the scrunch up some soup, I will be the one that eats it first, not you." At last, he reaches a wooden cabinet, near it is a stove with some firewoods left. "Let's see what you got for papy."

Bete gingerly opens the cabinet, hoping that the house owner has the courtesy to leave some food behind. Instead, the thing that greets Bete's sight is not the food he's been looking for, but a metallic object, shaped like a potato masher. Bete notices that a cord is run from the masher to the cabinet door, yet, he has broken it by pulling the door wide open. It's at this moment that Bete knows, he fucked up. "Hehe, I'm in danger."

Those were his last words before the M24 grenade explodes, blasting his head away from his body. The explosion sends out enough fragments to pierce through the flimsy kitchen walls, killing and maiming four other Ustians. Those that are affected by the blast struggle to contain their pained cries, yet, it's the shocked screams of the survivors that wake up the neighborhood.

A few, having mustered up enough courage, step forward to the kitchen, if only to secure those lucky enough to survive. Though the sight of Bete's maimed and headless corpse unnerves even the bravest of them. By now, many of their faces are paled as white as a sheet. And unable to contain his fear and anger any longer, a conscript mutters out incomprehensible words before stomping out for the door.

"Hey you Belkan wenches! I'm here! Fight me!" He kicks the door wide open and heads outside, under the stunned gazes of his friends. "You like playing with traps, huh?! Setting up cowardly ambushes for us, huh?! Come face me like a man you blasted cunts! I can take you on all day long!"

"Morty, what the fuck are you thinking? Get back inside, now!" His friend calls out to him, seeing that the guy, Morty, has stormed out into the fog.

"No! You don't get it! If we all man up and face them head-on, they will scurry away like the rats they are! This is what... psychological warfare, yeah! They're playing their games on our minds, yeah?! This is why we need not play by their rules!"

"Fuck, Morty, you're losing it." Morty's friend slings his rifle on the back before heading out to the fog to grab the lunatic guy. " Cover me will you, boys? I don't want the Belkans to shell us just because some of us didn't want to sleep."

A few of them man the windows, rifles at the ready though they wonder how can they even see a thing in this fog. Yet, Morty's friend presses on, disappearing into the strangely eerie fog. Eerie because the lamp posts outside can't provide them with any lighting. A little while later, after a bit more cursing and raging to no avail, Morty's friend is back with the man himself in tow.

A guy in the house manages to wind up a torch so he goes outside, torch-lit, to welcome them back. They all have relief written on their faces as they watch the two arrive at the walkway to the house. Yet, relief turns to scared shitless when they witness what happens next. Sudden gusts of winds are heard as green blades fly through the air, mincing Morty, his friend, and the guy with a torch, into a chef's recommendation. As blood, entrails, and bodies part squelch onto the floor, many of them throw up at the sickly sight. Yet, the night is far from over.

Soon after the gory mess was made, a tune of eerie music rings out from the district broadcast system. Causing the shaken-up conscripts to shudder with a wave of instinctual fear. Many of them contemplate making a mad dash to safety. Yet, the fog outside promises unknown dangers, dissuading them from venturing out en masses. All they can do is barricade their buildings to the best of their ability, hoping to stave off the encroaching night. And as they hold tight to their rifles, chanting the name of their God and mothers, the Ghost of the Misty night is fast upon their doorstep.

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Tracing back moments after the gruesome death of Morty's gang, a gathering of cloaked soldiers stand ready before commencing their plan. A hooded figure turns toward his kin, seeing that she is casting the necessary illusion spell for the operation.

"I assume that we are all set?" He asks the female dark elf, clad in black just like him.

The woman with her hood pulls down, revealing their trademark chocolate brown skin, pointy ears, and white hair, replies. "Yes, Sergeant Quellec. I've double-checked that the fog will stay till sunrise. Any unwanted guest will have their cognitive function impaired, diverting them away from this sector. The illusion spell is also ready, sir."

Sergeant Quellec, who's put in charge of three assassin squads by their Princess, nods and retold their objective for the night. "The Princess wants us to kill the Ustians here silently, yet cruelly. She wants the enemy to find their comrades, dead with terror-stricken faces in the morning. So make sure you get them all in the most imaginative ways possible, the illusion and music will help further our agenda. As for potential escapees, the Night Witches will deal with them from the air. Any question before we proceed?"

Seeing that none of the team leaders and their subordinates raise their hands, Quellec gives them the order to disperse into six fireteams and move out, with him leading one.

As the fireteams fade into the shadow, a creepy song starts playing over the district speakers. Coupled with the newly conjure illusions of ghostly paled-white female figures, they turn the horror level up to eleven for the Ustians. Quellec has to wonder how can the Princess comes up with such a method of psychological warfare.

He then gives instructions to his team. "Move out, we will clear the building that the previous group of three were trying to get into. Let the ghost knocks on the door first while we infiltrate the place, waiting for the chance to strike."

The team of four moves away from the carnage they made and surround the target building. Quellec and the other three dark elves can hear the scamperings of the Ustians inside the place, tensed and scared of what's about to come.

It's at this moment that the ghosts sing their tune according to the music playing in the background. One of the ghosts turns up at their building, knocking on the door with a sing-song voice.

"Ding Dong hurry up I'm waiting

Far too late to run

Away to see if I can catch you

Ding Dong hurry up I'm starving

Waiting for you here

I know that you are near so come out..."

Safe to say that the Ustians inside are stunned into silence. Quellec can't blame them, for the atmosphere they've created, when coupled with the mess they made, it's just downright horrifying. Still, with the Ustians' attention now on the door, he and his team can now get inside via the windows. Silently, they position themselves in the pitch-dark corners of the house, waiting for the moment to strike.

After a few seconds, seeing that no one answers the door, the ghost stops knocking and seemingly moves on to another set of targets. Its singing is carried away by the night winds. Letting out sighs of relief, two brave Ustians conscripts crept closer to a window, while others tuck behind whatever cover that can hide their figures. Safely stowed in the light provided by oil lamps.

The two conscripts, against their better judgment, peek out the window to peer a look at the front door. After making sure that there's nothing amiss with their lantern, except for the corpses of their compatriots that is, they turn around with relief smiles on their faces. Yet, a paled figure with glowing black scleras greets them back, right outside their window. In front of the scared shitless conscripts, the ghost sings.

"...Staring through the window

No escape from my cold gaze now

Tearing through your eyelids

Creeping close to see you nearer..."

Unknown to the conscripts, they've been standing near a suspicious-looking curtain. So when the chance presented itself, Quellec blows out the lantern with wind magic before swiftly swinging his knives, tearing the eyes of the two soldiers. Just like the tunes have instructed him to do.

The two conscripts go down on the floor, clutching their eyes while screaming their throats out. The others, seeing their comrades taken down mysteriously by the ghost, fire their rifles in fright. Yet, due to lacking visibility, only a few hit true on the ghost. Leaving Quellec moves on to another location in the dark.

As for the conscripts, to their absolute horror, they see the front door open with a creak, showing the visage of the supposed murderer of their friends. Its lips open again and knowing its modus operandi, they dearly wish it would stop singing to no avail.

"...Ding Dong hurry up and run now

So that we can play

Tag on this special day of fun now

Ding Dong hurry up I'm in now

Better run and hide

So I can never find you peeking..."

As if on cue, they heard two loud thumps behind them, turning around, faces white as sheets, they find that two of their fellow conscripts have their head split in half, top-down. The gory sight of the brain matters and much more uncomfortable fluids are the straws that break the camel's back. So, they decide to book it from the lobby of the house, scampering like rats to hide further inside the building. And yet, the singing is carried next to their ears, no matter how hard they try to block the sound out.

"...Thumping down the hallway

Footsteps on an old wood floorboard

Breathing in a whisper

I can hear it getting closer..."

Some scampers inside a bedroom, trying to open the window, only to find it frozen over. A few find themselves in front of a large wardrobe, hence all decide to hide inside, holding their breaths. The last of them, having exhausted places to run, move up to the dusty attic, choosing to make a last stand there.

Still, as if taunting their vain attempts, the melody continues on and on.

"...No No, You can never hide

I can see you there

No No, You can never hide

I can see your hair

No No, You can never hide

I can see your scared

No No, You can never hide..."

With bated breath, they can hear the footsteps echoing, do ghosts have footsteps? Still, whether they have one or not is not important as they can feel its chilly presence right outside the bedroom door. They pray to God high above to save their souls in desperation, yet, as if laughing at their misery, the door's knocked upon.

"...Knock Knock I'm in front your bedroom

And I'm coming in

Don't need a key or pin to help me..."

In response, a conscript shat his pants. "God, please, help me..." He, alongside the few hiding behind the bed, unleashes a volley of fire. Shredding the door and turning the figure behind it bloodied with holes. They continue to shoot at it till they empty their rifles. The door, unable to shrug off the abuse, fell onto the ground, revealing the standing yet bleeding ghost with its head blown off.

"...Did we get it?"

As if! To their absolute terror, the figure regenerates, body first, then comes the head till it can etch a cruel smile on its face. Seizing the chance, two shadow figures drop down from the ceiling, snapping their necks in quick succession. The chilling cracks of bones can be heard across the entire house, alongside the thumping of corpses hitting the floor. This leaves only the group hiding in the wardrobe and the attic. Don't worry, their ends are fast approaching.

The ghost steps inside the room while the dark elves resume hiding. Though the Ustians try their best, you can still hear the sounds of them leaking their fluids in fright.

"...Knock Knock I'm inside your bedroom

Can't see where you've hidden

But worry not, the game is ending..."

The conscripts can hear the ghost shuffling about in the room, checking corners and the bed for their presence. They are just about to heave a sigh of relief when the ghost fails to come up with anything. Its singing proves the contrary, however.

"...Look under the bed sheets

Clever boys to keep me guessing

Cannot find a body

But I haven't checked the closet..."

As the ghost's footsteps approached nearer and nearer to their hiding location. A conscript mutters manically, unable to keep his cool any longer. "No, no... Not like this, mommy!"

With the creaking of the wardrobe doors opening, the conscript dashes out with a frightened scream. He tries to run past the paled figure but a flash of green light stops him in place. He looks down to see his stomach is cut open with entrails now leaving his body. Slumping down to the floor, he looks back to see his friends receive the same treatment. The ghost stood above them with a condescending smile while its black scleras induce intense fear over him. The last sight he sees before dying is the plethora of dark tentacles behind the figure rushing up toward him. The ghost then moves out of the room, singing.

"...Ding Dong Here you are and...

Ding Dong, I have won this game..."

The last group hiding in the attic knows that they're the last one. Yet, what can they do aside from waiting, hoping for a reversal in this horrific time?

The footsteps soon stop beneath the retractable ladder that leads up to the attic. They play with the thought that if they hold the ladder from up here, the ghost can't get up to get them. So they rush to stop the ladder from being deployed. To their delight, they succeed. The ghost is stopped, for now.

Nonetheless, the ghost keeps singing, as if taunting their valiant effort and confirming their doom.

"...Now it's your turn

Ding Dong, I have won this game

Now it's your turn

Ding Dong, I have won this game

Now it's your turn..."

They, in a sudden burst of courage, taunt the ghost back. "Bitch! What can you do to us!? You can't get up here and when morning comes, we will blast your asses back to Hell!"

Yet, the replies are next to their ears, breathing down cold air on their back.

"...Ding Dong It was such a shame..."

The singer is in the attic, just like them. They slowly turn around, too scared to make sudden movements. They then see the head of the ghost poking out from the floor, its long hair draping its side while the black eyes stared deep into their soul.

Its ghastly mouth sings, sealing their fates.

"...Ding Dong You can never hide..."

The next thing they knew, sharp vines shoot through the attic, impaling them multiple times. The vines continue ascending upward, breaking past the flimsy attic and into the chilly night sky. Carries along with them are the impaled corpses, displaying them like a piece of avant-garde art for all to see when morning comes.

With that, the ghost let out a smile that seems to split its face. It sings the last verse before fading away, having completed its mission.

"...No one else is left

Ding Dong, this is my goodbye."

It will return, for the nights to come.

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Sergeant Quellec watches on as he sees the fading figure. Once again, he wonders how can the Princess thinks up such a devious method to break the enemy's spirits. He's a bit uncomfortable with such a maneuver but he knows that everything is for the greater good. So, he and his subordinates will see through it, loyally to the end.

Making his way outside the now broken house, Quellec and his team have much to do before the night ends.