windsnocturne: (Henry/Sumia)
[personal profile] windsnocturne
Title: Blurred Realities
Author: Sara Jaye
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Blood and morbid imagery, basically Henry being Henry.
Word count: 675
Summary: It's the stories he tells that don't involve buckets of blood that are the scariest.
A/N: I had to resist the temptation to make this a modern AU where Henry just told creepypasta after creepypasta in addition to the ones he wrote himself.

Fire Emblem: Awakening, Henry/Sumia, little!Cynthia: camping - (post-game or AU) Henry tells the best scary stories around the campfire.

"...and when he opened the closet, there was a picture of his brother, dead as a doornail, white as a sheet...!" Sumia shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around her and Cynthia. The glow of the fire lit up Henry's face, making him look almost etheral, and she could just picture the dark and drafty house with all its awful paintings.

"Was he really dead, Father?" Cynthia asked.

"Oh, he was alive! But just wait, it gets even better," Henry said cheerfully, before his tone dropped back to the narrative whisper. "Anyway, the guy shuts the door and rushes to the library, where his brother's sipping a cup of tea. Of course, the brother doesn't believe it, but he lets the guy sleep in his room that night." He grinned. "Except he can't sleep. His brother's out like a candle, so the guy checks the closet again..."

"W-was the painting still there?" Sumia asked.

"Worse." Henry's whisper dropped an octave. "It was the man himself! Tied to a chair, a knife sticking from his throat, eyes dull and lifeless...a pool of blood surrounding him!" Sumia barely stifled a shriek, and the normally fearless Cynthia actually grabbed for her hand.

When Henry talked cheerfully about bloody battles and how much fun it was to make enemies' heads go sploosh during the war, Sumia barely batted an eyelash anymore. She was used to his bloodlust and fascination with making things die. But every time they went camping, he told stories that went easy on the blood but instead created a feeling of genuine dread.

And she knew it wasn't just her, they'd invited Chrom and Sully's family along once and even Kjelle had been reluctant to sleep after that story about the werewolf butler who would attack small children if he didn't drink a certain tea every night. Or the town that suddenly disappeared after all of its dead came back in a fiery blaze.

The truly scary part, she'd come to realize, was that any of these stories could happen. One day, an entire town could disappear. Or they could have happened long in the past, or even the future the older version of Cynthia had come from. They were all too real, and that was both the scariest and the best part.

"His brother went missing the following day," Henry finished, and Sumia felt a chill crawl up and down her spine. "I bet the guy's dead now, too! And nobody ever found the bodies, so..."

"They could be lurking around here as ghosts, or zombies!" Cynthia squealed. "Father, I think that was my favorite story of all!" Sumia couldn't help a giggle at that.

"That's what you said about the werewolf story," she said. Cynthia shrugged.

"So I have two favorites!" Sumia smiled, moving closer to the fire. Henry was smiling normally again, and he looked more flesh-and-bone than like a ghost himself.

"Want another, you two? I've got plenty more where that came from! Like, a few hundred years ago, there were plans for a grand festival that never took off, and all the people who worked on it disappeared..." Cynthia wriggled out from under the blanket and sat by Henry's other side, while Sumia nestled closer to him.

"Tell us more."

"Well," Henry began, "back then, the owners of this big castle wanted to hold a festival with lots of wild animals on display..."

It could be real, Sumia thought. It could always be real, or have happened in the past. And despite all of this, she knew she'd still get a decent amount of sleep tonight. Just like she'd gotten used to his blood fixation, she was getting used to these stories.

"I wish we could go camping like this every weekend," Cynthia whispered, cuddling closer to her father's side. Sumia smiled, another shiver running up her spine as Henry described the decrepit castle and the sound of dripping water.

"I don't see any reason why we can't," she whispered back. An owl hooted in the distance, and she could swear she heard a wolf howling miles away.

No, there was definitely no reason they couldn't do this every weekend.

Creepypastas that inspired and/or were referenced in this story:

YouChan (cw: death, rape, necrophilia, murder, the dark web)
The Disappearance of Ashley, Kansas
Happy Sun Daycare
Abandoned by Disney (cw: gore)
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