Information

Malekith has a minion!

the Coal Fiend

Malekith
Legacy Name: Malekith

The

Nightmare Feli
Owner:

Paula

Age: 4 years, 9 months, 3 weeks

Born: June 25th, 2019

Adopted: 1 year, 10 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: June 11th, 2022

This pet has been nominated for the Pet Spotlight!

Statistics

Level: 76
Strength: 190
Defense: 190
Speed: 183
Health: 184
HP: 184/184
Intelligence: 134
Books Read: 134
Food Eaten: 25
Job: Diagnostics Technician

CREDITS

Profile template (c)

helix (get yours here);
Free background from Wallpaper Cave;
Story by

Paula;
Overlay by

dalice!

"Don't trust him, when his eyes are closed — he looks at you;
Don't trust him, when he turns his back — he still looks at you."

It’s not the best book you ever read but it was a good reading anyway, you think to yourself as you flip the last page of the book on your lap. You’ve always liked a little bit of terror before bed, even though you’ve been a skeptical person for your whole life, but you find some fun in those ghost stories. How can people believe those stupid stories? Like some being from another realm would have nothing better to do rather than slamming doors and whispering on your ear, or even worse, those jumpscares when the main character is facing a mirror and looks away. Nonsense.

You should get a glass of water before going to bed, yes you should, so you get up and go to the kitchen. The lamp keeps flickering and you should check that lightbulb, it must be voltage changes or just another one of those “job well done” that your landlord keeps doing despite being already an elderly. Whatever, you can live with that inconsistent lighting. At least the tap water is there for your thirst – OUCH, your glass shattered as you put it back on the sink leaving you with a couple painful open cuts on your hand. You should pay more attention, darn it, and as you curse yourself, you head to the bathroon for the first aid kit.

You look terrible, your thought is a bit harsh on yourself but look at those dark circles below your eyes, yikes, you haven’t been able to sleep properly for the past weeks anyway. You have those open cuts a good dose of soap and water, and managed to remove that pesky little piece of glass from your bleeding tissues, and it’s not looking that bad now – still you should get some bandaging done.

You get on your knees to reach for the cabinet below the sink. It’s a bit dusty and dark but you manage to find your first aid bag at the back – back off, spider! You’re up again, and now you should find that spare bandage, if you’re lucky enough to still have those lying around, as it’s becoming more and more common for you to hurt yourself in stupid little accidents like that. Funny, that book you just read... Nah, nonsense. You giggle at the thought of you, a renown physics professor, considering “haunted” bullshit. The author of that book, though, would be thrilled. Look at yourself again, you wasn’t expecting this, but you just felt that need, out of nowhere, like you were... being told? You hesitate there for a moment, staring at the roll bandage you hold. Are you afraid?

Your eyes slowly roll up until you see yourself again. There’s nothing there, and why do you feel relief? Obviously there would be nothing there, staring back at you, only your own reflection as expected. You open a smile and go back to the bandages – and the lights flicker once again, this time unexpectedly on your bathroom. But nothing that a few slams on the switch couldn’t solve. And now back to the bandages, you look at yourself once again. You gasp.

There are several cuts on your face, thin cuts like they were done by very sharp nails. The bandage you dropped on the sink, and it has moisture spots here and there now. “W-where, what happen...” but as you grasp that antisseptic bottle from the first aid kit and check on those facial cuts once again, there are even more of them. And the lights are flickering again. Your hands are shaking as you try to connect the dots, troubled by your own thoughts. Are you afraid?, and what you thought was your own mind, now you’re weirded out by it. With each flicker of the lights, as your reflect shows in the mirror, there are many more cuts to the point your face it turning all red from the dripping blood. The door slams close by your side.

You should be.

The bathroom lights are out, the flickering stopped and you are sitting down, holding your own knees as tears burn your face as they roll down. “What is happening to me? What is happening? What... ” but before you can answer your own questions (or continue to question yourself), you hear a purring by your side. “K-Kith is that you?”, as if your cat would actually reply. Your tabby cat was sleeping peacefully by the couch when you were reading at the living room, was that him now? But he was a goodyball, he’d never do anything, not a single harm to a fly. Then, how? The light from the corridor, that dim light coming from the threshold, made you see the shining grin of sharp feline teeth that only grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger.

Goodnight.