Forewarning that this story is quite...gory. I'm not sure if I should mark the collection as mature (I did it anyway because I would not like to break any guidelines) since not all stories will be at this yikes level but I would definitely label this story as mature because of the gory and disturbing descriptions. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

The fog rolled through the town, swirling at the legs of the people. Its tendrils slowly crawled up their backs and draped over their shoulders. The lighter, less dense miasma rose from the fog and made its way down the throats of the people. Before anyone knew, the lights flickered, and the town went dark, and snow began to fall.

It wasn't long before people started acting strangely.

It started with one, a small child. The child began hysterically clawing their eyes out, screaming in tongues. Then, the madness started. Upon witnessing the horrifying sight, many panicked. People crawled above one another in an attempt to escape. However, the child wasn't the only one picking their eyes out. There were others; many others.

The screaming lasted late into the night. It was exactly midnight when the wails stopped, and everyone fell, dead.

In the morning, the sun revealed the massacre that occurred. Birds picked at dismembered limbs. Bloody handprints covered the windows as a mockery at the notion of safety. However, the most horrifying sight was not the bodies split in half, nor the net of intestines that stretched across the telegraph poles, no; the most frightening part of the massacre was the clean bodies, the ones seemingly frozen in time.

At the edges of the town, a murder of crows congregated into a ball of beaks and feathers. They promptly dispersed, revealing a man in a long, black trench coat. He pulled out an obsidian orb and smiled. With an extravagant bow, he began to walk.

He smiled at the grisly sight of skin dangling on the power lines. He looked at the orb and sighed.

"Quite a spectacle you created, Lady Delirium."

He tossed the orb, watching it spin and expand into a black doorway. The door opened, revealing a red-haired woman in a pink and yellow Victorian Age dress. Lady Delirium opened her purple and black parasol and stepped out, marvelling at the sight.

"My, my, Mr Grimm. It seems you'll be quite busy today."

Mr Grimm sighed.

"Unfortunately. As Death's lackey, there is never a restful day."

Lady Delirium covered her mouth with a pink, metal fan, her forehead wrinkling in distaste. "Oh, it's that shameful, pathetic nobody. A sad excuse of a Celestial." She kicked a severed head and watched as the birds scattered. "At least you get to relieve your boredom, no?"

Grimm nodded absentmindedly.

"Any signs of Spectralfication, perchance?"

Grimm gazed at the streets and peered into the windows. "Oddly enough, no. Perhaps Death did their job this time."

Lady Delirium giggled. "Death doing their job? I'll believe it when I see it. Seriously. of all Primordial Celestials, they are the laziest, despite bearing the heaviest burden."

Grimm tilted his head. He pointed at the body of a woman whose legs lay separated from the body. The hand twitched.

"Lady Delirium, I think this one is still alive."

Lady Delirium grinned. She made her way to the woman and knelt. With an abrupt sweep of her arms, she yanked the woman's face up by her hair.

The woman stared at Lady Delirium with wide, terrified eyes. Tears trickled down her face, mixing with the dried blood.

"Help me."

Lady Delirium smirked. She regarded the woman with amused eyes. "So you've survived the Festival of Madness and somehow evaded the fog's effects." She tilted the woman's chin upwards. "Tell me, would you be able to handle my true form?"

The woman, upon seeing the fathomless gaze of the Lady, began to whimper.

Lady Delirium sighed. "I see. You are not as breakable as I thought. Perhaps I should leave you to my pets. They will use your severed legs well."

The woman's face turned blank at the words. She moved her eyes, seeing a limb that seemed familiar.

"No, this can't be happening. It's not real. It's not real."

Lady Delirium dropped the head. She stood up and stared at her gloves.

"It took only that to send you into despair. What a shame. It seems I've soiled my gloves for nothing."

Lady Delirium clicked her fingers. Twirling red mist emanated from a garnet nestled within a large, gaudy ring. With a flick of her fingers, the fog entered the nose and mouth of the woman. The body jerked and exploded. Grimm looked away.

Lady Delirium giggled. "Oh? Too traumatic? Did it remind you too much of your mortal days?"

Grimm looked around. "There seems to be no residual soul energy." He glanced at the Lady. "I suppose someone devoured them."

Lady Delirium snapped her fan shut. "Relax, child. I'm doing both you and Death a favour. Besides, it's not like you care for these modern weaklings. They are descendants of the Mala; they cursed you into this role and sacrificed your family. Why would you want to ensure them a happy afterlife? An early judgement like this is nothing more than they deserved."

Grimm nodded.

Lady Delirium snapped her fan open and traced a circle. Space rippled and opened up to an immaculately trimmed lawn. She curtseyed.

"Well then, Mr Grimm, have a good day."

Grimm inclined his head.

Lady Delirium turned around and walked through the portal. She waved her hand and space repaired itself, leaving Grimm to deal with the aftermath.

He shook his head.

"Irresponsible beings, leaving me to do the clean-up job," he muttered.

He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a seed. He tossed it and watched as it rolled towards a body. Wire-thin roots spread from the unassuming thing and immediately started blanketing the town.

Grimm hurriedly tossed the void-black orb and escaped through the door. He glanced back, watching as the roots thickened and thin, pointy growths that will eventually be trees, starting to stretch upwards.

He closed the door. It promptly melted and splashed onto the roots. More roots grew over the black substance, leaving nothing to suggest its existence in the first place. Soon after, the town became unrecognisable. What were once houses, were now ruins. Any evidence of the massacre was all but gone.

In this world, there was a legend, the legend of the swallowing forest. Towns that resided at its border, eventually disappear. No one knows what happened to the inhabitants of the settlements. However, most knew that every winter solstice, the forest encroached ever closer into the heart of Human Territory. Perhaps it was a punishment for betraying their elven brethren, or perhaps it was a cruel trick of the gods. Rumours say that strange things lurk between the trees; shadowy things, inhuman things.

Beware little one for not all things are kind. The forest will claim us all one day, and all we can do is wait.

******

So...I originally decided to use the time for writing my actual stories but my brain decided "Lets write horror!" so here it is. Uh...I never actually wrote horror before so feedback is appreciated. Also, please comment if you think the story should be labelled mature. This level of disturbing is only going to be a small percentage of these stories, but I'll leave the ultimate decision to the readers.

Have a good day/night.

--keepthywits.