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Graveyard Residents

George Dickman is a perfectly normal person. Well, he would be perfectly normal if he didn't turn any living to dust with a mere touch. He decided to run away when he got beef with his father who seemed to hate him since birth. Four days later, he became homeless and that’s when he crossed paths with Diego—a graveyard resident. Danger lurks on the adventure he was gonna take with his newly found companion: pirates; warlocks and witches; undeads and assassins; and so much more. The first step to doing all these is to acquire a graveyard residency which is by no means an easy task. And in the process of doing so, he found himself tied to an altar made of disgusting stuff, about to be sacrificed to the dark powers by a cult of the ancient tomb. A first work of Riley_23.

Riley_23 · ファンタジー
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33 Chs

Book of Prophecy

"Please tell me I'm dreaming," Owen whispered as he leaned on a tree, a grilled fish on one hand. He said it more to himself than for anyone to hear. "What was father thinking anyway? To think that this kind of place exists. It's… unbelievable."

He remembered the conversation he had with Matilda last night. At first, he thought she was just tripping him. But the more the reality sunk in, the more he found it hard not to believe. The cemetery statue coming to life; the hounds that chased them; and his family's peculiar abilities.

Then he started to think, 'Hey! Our family is actually weird. While everyone in Bonaville was normal, our family can do all sorts of reality bending stuff.'

"You seemed to be in deep thought, young man." It was Matilda. She carried two wooden mugs and handed one to Owen. "It's corn coffee infused with herbs I scavenged in the mountains. Good for fatigue and calms the nerves. Have some."

Owen gratefully took it but didn't drink. He couldn't help but think of all the weird concoction his aunt Lucia made them drink in the past. There was one that made him live in a bathroom for three days. There was also one that made the twin's skin turn to green. Made their grandma all energetic she couldn't stop singing and dancing. And so much more.

Lucia made them do a lot of stuff any normal person wouldn't be able to imagine. They couldn't refuse as she would steal their will and ability to refuse.

And of all the Dickmans, she was the only person who didn't think twice about using her ability. She uses it gratefully, and effectively.

"You might wanna chat with your aunt. She's awake and she's looking for you." Matilda told him.

"Then please allow me to excuse myself, ma'am." Then he left her and went inside the tent. Lucia was eating grilled fish and the leftover sweet potato soup from last night.

"There you are, my other nephew. Come. Join your aunt."

"Please stop calling me that, aunt Lucia. It's weird." Owen said as he plopped on the old green carpet across from her. "Besides, why did you bring us here? Is George really here? What did father tell you exactly? And… What are we?"

"Too many questions! Too many questions, my other nephew. This is why Henry should have educated you but alas! He was too cowardly so here I am fulfilling his duties instead." Lucia complained.

"Everything. I wanna know everything."

She sighed. "Ha! Let me finish first." Then she gulped down the soup in one go and put the bowl aside.

"First of all, we are Dickmans. You and I both. Dickman is our last name. Nothing more nothing less. Our father, your grandfather, got our family cursed. That's all."

"Ha?! That's all? That doesn't make sense, does it? How did he get our family cursed? And I don't get how we are cursed existence when we were blessed with peculiar abilities instead."

Owen's response made Lucia chuckle. "Well, I don't blame you for thinking that way. After all, that foolish older brother of mine didn't tell you shit."

"Then tell me then." He was getting impatient. And overwhelmed.

"I'm about to do that. But first, let me ask you a question." Lucia stared at him. Her grin suddenly vanished as she cocked her head to the side. "You know what father's ability is, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah? Make prophecies and stuff, isn't it? Isn't that why he wrote the book of prophecies in the first place?"

"Exactly," Lucia said. Her usual playful demeanor was gone. She became intimidating all of a sudden. "And he wrote in that book a prophecy of our destruction. The destruction of our family, the Dickman."

Owen found himself unable to say anything. It was his first time hearing about this. His father never told him. And Henry forbids him from reading the book.

"And let me guess. Henry didn't allow you to read it." She was so spot on that Owen suspected she could read his mind. "But don't fret, I stole it. Stole it for you."

She shot him a proud grin before pointing to her bag. "Open it. And on the inner compartment on the side, you can find the book. Take it out."

Owen did as she told him. Then lo and behold! The book was indeed there. A thick, green hardbound book. Handcrafted by his grandfather. Neat, cursive letters that say DICKMAN PROPHECY was stamped on the cover page.

"Open it on page 69. Read it aloud." Lucia instructed him.

Owen had a mixed feeling about this but followed her nonetheless. He flipped open the book. Carefully scanned the neat, handwritten cursives as the scent of ink and paper wafted into his nose. Then he stopped on page 69.

"The—The destruction of the Dickman family?" Owen read the title, confused. Then he looked at his aunt.

"Continue," Lucia urged him.

"Uh… Well, I guess I'll continue reading then." Owen stared at the first paragraph. Parted his lips and began reading it. "My grandson from my second son. Born with terrifying ability. He will kill his mother and his twin, turning them to dust. If left alone, he will grow distant and will be influenced by things not of this world and will destroy the family. Put him on a leash and he will bite back and cause havoc in the family."

Owen, having read this the first time, felt suffocated. He didn't know what to make of it.

"Yes. Such a prophecy existed. And you know what, my other nephew? Henry. That fool tried to abort George. But his wife insisted not to. The prophecy came when Anika was four months pregnant. She insisted the child must be born. She begged Henry not to kill the child. She insisted that the child didn't have to be killed just for a measly prophecy. She refused to believe it. And she died. Including George's supposed twin. George didn't know he killed his twin though. And I doubt you know it as well."

Still, Owen couldn't say anything. He found it hard to swallow.

"Don't hate your brother so much, my other nephew. You might regret it. He didn't choose any of these."

Owen felt like choking. As if there was a large object stuck in his throat.

"I—I don't really hate him, you know?" His voice cracked a little. "I just miss mom."