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Flower Izzy (By Anon)
By afterpasteCreated: 2022-01-17 06:26:01
Updated: 2022-01-17 06:30:11
Expiry: Never
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>You're walking down the forest path at 2AM for reasons not specified. Unsurprisingly, it's quite fucking dark.
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>You hear nothing but the sound of your own footsteps, an occasional bird in the distance and the sound of wind moving through the trees.
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>You suddenly hear a bit of a rustling to your left and promptly look at the nearby bush, but you see absolutely nothing. A bit startled, you start moving forwards again.
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>It's been about half an hour since the rustling in the bush and nothing happened since, it was probably just an accorn that fell into it from one of the trees or something.
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>Suddenly you hear the strange rustling once again, this time from the right. You quickly snap your eyes towards the bush, but once again see nothing.
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>"Anybody there? Hello?" you call out, but nobody replies.
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>It seems that it's another false alarm, until you hear some very faint breathing behind you.
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>You turn around and see pic related, staring at you, unmoving, with a neutral expression.
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>You're frozen with fear, the visage of the flower-consumed Izzy is too much for you to comprehend.
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>Then, the thing begins to speak. It's mouth composed of petals and stems moves incredibly slow.
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>This is what you hear:
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>You slowly take a step back.
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>The thing takes a step forward. Its massive hoof is completely silent as it presses down, the soft vegetation acting as padding.
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>It says "MY... NAME..."
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>You take another step back. It steps forward again, its eyes locked onto yours.
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>"IS... IZZY..."
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>Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, you are breathing heavily.
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>"WHAT'S.... YOUR... NAME?"
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>As you begin to hyperventilate, you have a moment of clarity.
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>You shut your eyes tight.
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>You stand there, trembling, trying to force this nightmare creature out of your reality.
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"This is just a dream. This isn't real. This isn't real."
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>It's a hallucination. You're tired from your night walk. That's all. You're just tired. No problem.
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>No problem.
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>You force yourself to take a low, but painful breath.
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>Gradually, you open your eyes.
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>It is still there.
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>Its head it tilted in sickening curiosity. One huge, violet eye peers intently at you. The other lazily drifts off to the side, as if on a mind of its own.
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>Then both snap onto you as the thing leans back and pulls its horrible flower mouth into a toothless smile.
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>"ARE WE... PLAYING... PEEK-A-BOO?"
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>Your mouth hangs uselessly. You try to form words, but none come.
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>You await death.
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>Then instinct kicks in.
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>You turn and bolt forward down the path, sprinting as hard as you can.
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>You weave around one tree, than another.
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>A quarter mile between you and the road. If you can get there, you'll be safe. You'll be fine.
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>Please God, don't let me die.
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>I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything, please.
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>But the night is dark.
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>Your foot hits a tree root, you tumble down, scraping your hands and forearms as you catch yourself.
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>You look back to see the form of the flower Izzy silently padding forward towards you.
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>The mass of shadowy blue and pink petals is interrupted by the bone spear on its head, and the whites of its eyes.
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>You hear something like a giggle, but slowed down to that of a deep, reverberating cackle.
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>You quickly get up and hold your bleeding arm.
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>The creature continues to slowly walk towards you. Every moment is deliberate and focused.
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>You should be able to outrun it.
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>You continue in a light jog down the path.
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>Not too much farther to go.
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>You glance behind again only to see the creature now picking up speed.
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>It starts to trot.
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>Then it starts to gallop.
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>You break into a run again.
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>Your arms pumping, your heart hammering in your chest.
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>Then you hear it behind you.
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>The swishing of the leaves and flowers moving in unison, like a massive bush given four legs.
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>Despite how slow it talks, its gait is long and graceful.
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>And it's gaining on you.
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>20 feet behind.
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>You breaths are ragged and unorganized, and your lungs burn.
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>15 feet behind.
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>You see the yellowed streetlights creeping through the gnarled tree trunks.
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>10 feet behind.
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>You see the the asphalt. The yellow pools of stagnant light.
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>You don't know why, but you just want to get there, hoping someone will see.
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>5 feet.
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>You hear the breathing behind you. It's unnatural, a sound no creature should ever be able to make.
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>You close your eyes and sprint out into the middle of the road.
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>You whip around, arms raised, wincing for the inevitable attack.
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>And yet, the flower Izzy is gone.
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>The forest path you came from is now empty, save for a few blue and lavender petals on the ground.
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>The wind picks up, and quietly they are blown away along with the leaves.
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---
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>You make it back to your home, your arm caked with dried, dark blood.
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>You live near the edge of town, in a semi-rural area. Your home is small but comfortable.
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>It's a good distance away from neighbors. You thought out here you might find some peace.
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>These thoughts now turn sour in your skull.
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>First, you turn on every light in your house.
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>Second, you clean up your arm and slap band-aids on it.
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>Then you think of what to do.
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>Guns won't work.
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>You don't think you could hack it up with a machete or sheers.
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>But you won't ever feel safe knowing it's still out there.
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>It needs to die.
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>Then, you remember something.
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>So obvious. So simple.
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>With a flashlight and tire iron in hand, you go out to your shed in the backyard.
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>You come out lugging a machine. It is your Excalibur. Your slayer of flora.
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>A gasoline-powered, two-handed weed whacker with metal blades.
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>You sleep that night cradling it in your bed.
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>The next morning you wake up late, as you usually do.
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>Upon seeing the weed whacker, you laugh quietly to yourself.
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>You really got worked up, huh?
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>Did any of that even happen?
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>Yes.
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>You know it did.
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>Your arm is scabbing up underneath the bandages.
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>You pick up your shoes and notice something on the sole.
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>A single lavender petal is stuck to the bottom.
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>You peel it off with a sickened look on your face and throw it into your yard.
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>The sun is out behind the scattered clouds.
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>The flowers are blooming in your yard.
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>You consider spraying them all with poison.
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---
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>You spend the day as usual, trying to keep your mind off things.
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>The evening comes, and the dread approaches along with the dusk.
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>You're looking out your kitchen window into the backyard.
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>The sun dips below the rows and rows of trees.
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>It's probably out there somewhere.
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>Waiting.
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>You know that it will come at night when you're least expecting it.
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>So this time, you will expect it.
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>It will be weird going into the woods holding a huge gardening tool.
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>If anyone's there, they'd probably shit themselves if they see you coming towards them.
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>But, then again, that's why you go on night walks.
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>There's never anyone on the path to bother you.
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>So that makes it just you... and the thing.
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---
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>The night grows long.
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>You have been pacing up and down the path. Taking things slowly. Keenly aware.
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>Carrying this thing is wearing you down. The strap is digging into your shoulder.
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>You decide to take a short rest on a nearby log.
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>You check the time, noticing that it's past 2 am again.
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>Then you hear it.
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>A distant melody is being sung by a voice that you recognize.
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>"LA... LA LA.... LA.... LA LA...."
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>The tune should be carefree and happy, but its voice distorts it and slows it down.
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>The creepy song surrounds you as you quickly stand up and pick up your weapon.
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>You spin in place, straining your eyes to see into the forest as you scan your flashlight along it.
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>You see nothing, but the sound grows louder, seeming to come from all directions.
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>With a pit of fear growing in your chest, you frantically zip your light this way and that.
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>Suddenly, your flashlight picks up something.
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>A bit of color in the dark.
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>It's a bright, glowing, violet eye.
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>The creature steps out from around a wide oak tree, still singing its tune.
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>It notices you.
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>Its mouth twists into a terrifyingly wide smile.
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>"FRIEND...." It says.
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>You grip the weed eater with both hands.
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>"YOU... CAME... BACK...!"
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>You grimace.
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"Yeah. I did. I want to show you a new game."
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>You yank the pull cord on the device and the engine roars to life.
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>The sound rumbles over the still, quiet forest. You pull the trigger, and the blades spin with a shrill whine.
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"Let's play."
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>The thing giggles slowly as you approach.
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>It starts to turn away to playfully bound through the forest.
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>You walk after it.
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>This time you're the one chasing.
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>You swipe at its tail, a chunk of fluffy blue flowers is lopped off.
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>"AH....! HAHA...." It laughs with delight.
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>It looks behind, slowing down for a moment.
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>You take the opportunity to dig the whirling blades into its hind leg.
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>The piercing sound of shredding stems and mangled flowers is music to your ears.
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>The leg falls off.
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>It wriggles and contorts on the ground, still living.
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>The creature hops to the side.
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"Hold still, bitch!"
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>You take some swipes over its body, cutting gashes in the petaled hide.
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>The creature still tries to hobble away, laughing loudly as if it was the most fun its ever had.
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>The rage and hatred builds inside you as you cut.
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"FUCKING DIE!"
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>You hook the spinning blades under its neck and let them dig in.
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>Bits of plant gunk flies at your face and chest as you saw through its neck.
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>The entire time it keeps laughing. Deep, hearty laughs.
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>As you're nearly through, the blades get caught.
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>A thick tangle of vines has wrapped around the blades.
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>The head tilts over, hanging loosely from the strands of vegetation.
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>The eyes turn to you. Purple irises glowing unnaturally in the dark.
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>You step on its back and try to pull the blades free.
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>"THIS... IS... FUN!"
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>You grunt and strain.
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>You dig in your heel.
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>With one last powerful yank, the head breaks free and topples to the forest floor.
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>Instantly, the body goes limp and collapses in a heap.
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>You pant and try to catch you breath.
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>You are covered in beaded sweat. Your clothes are covered in specks of mulch.
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>You wipe your brow.
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"Fuck..."
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>You flip the kill switch on the weed eater and lower it down to the ground with a groan.
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>Hard work killing demonic plants.
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>But now... at least it's over.
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>You lean against a tree and catch your breath.
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>Then, under the mass of blue flowers constituting a mane, a purple eye peeks out.
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>You watch in abject horror as the vines you cut through a moment ago start to snake around in the air.
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>They grow and extend at an unimaginable rate, creeping towards the head on the ground.
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>Quickly you pick up the weed eater and start to pull the cord.
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>The motor spins. It dies.
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>You yank the pull cord again.
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>Nothing.
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>You keep trying to pull it in a panic as the flower creature reconstitutes itself, pulling its head and limbs together again with creeping vines.
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>You watch helplessly, the motor refusing to crank up, as the ungodly head of Flower Izzy screws into place with the snapping of twigs.
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>It smiles at you.
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>Fuck this.
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>You take the rod connecting the blades with both hands, and like a counter-weighted battle axe, you bring the stationary blades down upon the creature.
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>The blades sink into its chest.
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>Yet the creature remains standing.
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>You try to yank your weed eater free, but to no avail. Vines slither around it and keep it stuck.
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>"NO... NO...." The thing says in a chiding voice.
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>"NOW... IT'S... MY... TURN..."
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>Your eyes go wide and you start to hyperventilate.
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>You can't think. You can't move.
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>You leg go of the weed whacker. The hoof of the thing envelops it and raises it up.
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>You see the butt end of it raise above your head.
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>Then, it comes crashing down on your skull.
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>Darkness takes you.
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---
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>You have a bleary-eyed vision of being dragged through dirt and leaves.
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>Your head is killing you. You can't see anything. The forest is dark still.
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>There's vines pulling at your legs.
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>There's a blue tail in front of them.
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>Your head lolls to the side again, and you lose yourself once more.
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>When you come back to, you hear the sounds of dirt being patted down.
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>A bit of cold, sticky mud splashes on your cheek.
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>Your eyes pop open to behold a terrifying sight.
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>The flower Izzy is towering above you. Your head is at ground level.
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>Your body is buried in packed, wet, dirt all the way up to your neck.
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>The thing notices you're awake and shows its big, toothless smile.
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>"GOOD... NEWS... FRIEND."
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>It says and puts it flowery hoof to your cheek.
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>"I... LIKE... YOU... SO... YOU... WILL... STAY... WITH... ME..."
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"W-what?!"
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>You panic. You can't even move a finger. The weight of the dirt presses in on your chest, making it very hard to breathe.
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>"ISN'T... THAT... GREAT?!"
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"No... please... let me go. Let me go."
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>"SHHHHHHH...."
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>Flower Izzy says as she puts her hoof over your mouth.
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>"WAIT.... HERE."
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>The creature slowly turns and begins to plod away.
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>You twist your head, looking everywhere around you.
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>The hints of dawn are teasing the edges of the sky.
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>To your right, there is an impossibly large tree. Too large for any tree you would ever see in this forest, with a trunk wide enough to drive a car through.
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>Inside this bone-white tree, a random collection of branches and flowers has been cobbled together into a shelter.
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>You look to your left, and you see a sun-bleached skull partially buried in dirt.
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>A plume of red tulips are growing out of the eye holes and mouth. Its jaw hangs loosely.
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>Fuck! FUCK!
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>You notice around you there are several more flowers growing. All a different kind.
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>And some of them... form shapes.
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>A muzzle and half of a pony head peeks out from the ground on one mound.
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>A leg with a hoof sticks out of the ground from another.
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>Your mind reels as it tries to grapple with the implications.
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>Then Flower Izzy returns.
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>She walks up to you, smiling with a sinister aura of serenity.
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>"OPEN... WIDE...."
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>She says and sticks her hoof up towards your mouth.
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>You clench your teeth and try to lean your head back.
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>A tulip bulb appears from the surface of the hoof. It is held with thick, gnarled vines.
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>"DON'T... WORRY...."
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>The vines creep towards your face.
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>"YOU'RE..."
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>The vines push past your lips and skirt along your teeth.
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>"GONNA...."
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>Your jaw is pried open against your will.
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>"FIT...."
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>The bulb is pushes into your mouth. You taste dirt and gag.
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>"RIIIIIIIGHT...."
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>With a sudden push, the bulb is crammed down your throat.
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>"IN."
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>You choke and sputter, tears run down your face. The vines keep pushing, and you feel them run down your throat as it makes sure the bulb is pushed deep into your stomach.
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>Flower Izzy grins. The vines creep out of you, taking an agonizingly slow time.
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>She raises her hoof and produces another bulb from her mane.
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>"YOU'RE..."
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>She says and presses the next bulb up to your lips.
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>"GONNA..."
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End.
by afterpaste
by afterpaste
by afterpaste
by afterpaste
by afterpaste