Miðsumar (2036) [closed]

Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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Pronouns
He/His/Him
TNP Nation
Prydania
Discord
lordgigaice
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what is dead never dies

4 June 2036
2:46 pm
On a Wednesday
Somewhere outside Smiðurgrænn, Prydania


"Tree five hundred and seventy-two..." Rafnar Sjöholm muttered as the green 2026 Freya Motors Sviðflakkari rumbled along the rural Alatervan road.

"Are going to keep counting trees all the way to Smiðurgrænn, Rafi?" Einhildur Vennerod teased as she turned around in her seat to look at the despondent Rafnar.

"No," Rafnar replied.
"I'm going to keep counting until we get to Camp Seigla."

"She's made you miss a bunch already bro," Rafnar's best friend- and Einhildur's boyfriend- Styrbjörn Granseth said with a chuckle as they drove.

"It doesn't matter," Rafnar signed.
"One tree...two tree..."

"You could do better than Luna," Einhildur said to Rafnar, her tone going from teasing to sympathetic.
"She was a year 10 anyway. Come on, don't let her ruin summertime vibes!"

"She's right," Styrbjörn replied.
"Luna was too flighty for you anyway."

"But I loved her...." Rafnar moaned dramatically as he slumped down in the back seat of the SUV against the cooler they were planning on filling up when they got to the small town of Smiðurgrænn, which was just by the summer camp they were all working at as counsellors.

Styrbjörn sighed. He couldn't help but feel bad. He, Rafnar, Einhildur, and Luna had all signed up together. Then Luna dumped Rafnar and pulled out. He was still dealing with it.

"I know it sucks bro, but come on. We'll make some money at the camp, have a good time hanging out, and hey. Maybe there will be girls to meet? We're not the only counsellors you know."

"Yeah maybe," Rafnar muttered. He looked out the window again.
"One tree, two tree..."

"I'm going to leave you by the side of the road, I swear to God," Styrbjörn said with a chuckle, showing he wasn't serious.

"Sorry," Rafnar replied.
"I don't mean to bring the mood down, it's just...ya know..."

"Yeah we get it," Einhildur said with a smile.
"But we'll be in town before you know it and then we'll be having so much fun you'll forget Luna. Promise."

"Double promise," Styrbjörn added.

"Thanks guys," Rafnar said with a faint smile.
"You know we're not far from where Vortgyn I killed the Winter King..."

Styrbjörn and Einhildur looked at each other and smiled. Rafnar was an encyclopedia of historical facts and talking about it always lit him up.
"Oh, was that part of the Thaunic/Messianist battles?" Styrbjörn asked.

"No, that was during Tobias I's reign," Rafnar replied. And Styrbjörn knew that, but he was trying to lift his friend's spirits. At least he'd finally gotten him to stop listening to sad show tunes. Maybe encouraging him to rattle off some historical facts would be the last thing to break him from his funk.

"This was before Vortgyn even unified the country. These woods were where he defeated an army of cultists."

"Army of cultists eh?" Einhildur replied with a chuckle.
"Sounds spoooooky!"

"Sounds like good ghost story fodder. You should tell it to the other counsellors when we get there. Let's get everyone good and freaked out before the kids arrive," Styrbjörn chuckled.

"They all died like a thousand years ago," Rafnar replied with a laugh of his own.

"Yeah but what's summer camp if you're not a little bit scared?" Einhildur replied.

"Eh, you're right when you're right," Rafnar said with a nod.
Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad trip after all...



AHS '84 Theme by James S. Levine and Marc Quayle, 1:45
 
Last edited:
4 June 2036
3:18 pm
On a Wednesday
Smiðurgrænn, Prydania


Smiðurgrænn was small for a small town, sitting on the peninsula between Alaterva and Skapta. Older style buildings stretched to and fro along a few streets, a small statue commemorating FRE soldiers from the Civil War sitting in the middle of a small town square.

The green SUV pulled up into town, down past the Agrarian Credit Union building and up to a general store and gas station called "Lævískinkar."

"This place is...quaint," Einhildur replied, getting out of the car. Styrbjörn chuckled. The three seventeen year olds were from Býkonsviði and this was very much the boonies.

"Quaint is nice, quaint is good," Rafnar said, smiling. He seemed to be in better spirits now, and Styrbjörn was just happy to see it. He knew his friend. He might be from the big city too, but he tended to be more eager to explore different places. It was part of his love of history.

"Yep, it is," Styrbjörn said.
"Hey Raf, help me with supplies. Einhildur, babe, fill it up with gas?"

"Sure thing, hun," Einhildur replied as Styrbjörn tossed her the keys, putting her sunglasses on as she started fuelling the car up.




"Hey, Gull or LáBru?" Rafnar said as he checked out the beer selection. Styrbjörn thought for a moment.

"What do ya think?"

"I mean I like Gull but maybe both for variety?"

"Both then," Styrbjörn replied with a smile.

"You kids old enough to drink?" an older woman sitting behind the counter asked, her voice not even sounding accusatory. She didn't even look up from her tablet as she browsed.

"We're seventeen," Rafnar replied. The drinking age in Prydania was sixteen. The woman looked up, taking in the two teenagers and squinting.

"Well I hope you have IDs to prove that," she muttered.

"That we do," Styrbjörn replied with a smile. He grabbed a bag of ice, a few bags of chips, and two packs of Toki's. The pop was, among other things, strategic.

"x311.81," the woman at the counter said as she rang them up. Styrbjörn and Rafnar each pitched in a few notes.
"And some IDs," the woman added.

"No problem," Styrbjörn replied as Rafnar and him handed the woman their drivers' licences.

"Umhmm..." the woman muttered. They were, indeed, seventeen.
"Býkonsviði?" she added. "What brings you two all the way out here?"

"We're working as counsellors for Camp Seigla," Styrbjörn replied.
"Us, and my girlfriend filling up the car."

"They let counsellors drink beer now?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um..." Styrbjörn blushed, turning to Rafnar, who was likewise flush and speechless.

"Don't worry," the woman chuckled.
"I just care that you're old enough to buy it. Not gettin' in trouble with the police over under-age drinkin'. What you do with it after you leave here ain't my concern. Just promise me you'll be careful and safe, ok?"

"Yes ma'am," both Styrbjörn and Rafnar said in unision before Rafnar looked outside.

"Um Styrbjörn? I think we should take care of that..."

"Fuck," Styrbjörn muttered, rushing out of the store.




Einhildur leaned against Styrbjörn's SUV as she filled the car up, appreciating the summer breeze that blew through the town. She very much looked like someone from Býkonsviði though. She was wearing a faded Vetrarbraut shirt, jean shorts, and sneakers, with a pair of stylish shades.

"Going up towards the Camp?"

"Huh?" Einhildur asked, snapped out of a short bit of daydreaming.

"Camp Seigla," an old man in shabby clothing said, as he seemingly staggered up to her.
"That way's cursed ya know...old evils that were never put to rest."

Einhildur tensed up, trying to back away a bit, and briefly contemplating driving off to get away from this creep.
"Look pal, I don't know what's got into you, but stay away," she said, trying to sound firm.

"You're doomed unless you turn back now!" the old man bellowed.
"Doomed or else..."

"Hey! Get away from her!" Styrbjörn demanded as he and Rafnar came out of the store.

"You're all doomed!" the man insisted only for the woman from the counter to follow the boys out.

"Rúdólf, you drunk, get the hell out of here! What did I say about botherin' my customers?"

"They're all doomed!" Rúdólf insisted.

"You're doomed if you force me to call the police again. Go home!"

Rúdólf shuffled off, looking back a few times, until he had turned a corner.

"You ok, babe?" Styrbjörn asked, giving Einhildur a hug.

"Yeah, just a bit startled.

"Don't pay that idiot any mind," the proprietor remarked.
"He's out of his mind. I have to shoo him away a few times a week. I'm sorry if he bothered you though."

"No, it's...it's ok..." Einhildur replied.
"I'm fine, really."

"He was talking about things not put to rest. Was he talking about the Winter King's Cultists?" Rafnar asked.

"Just local superstitions. 'Round here we tell kids not to go out into the woods after dark or the Winter King will get them. Some idiots take it literally," the proprietor said, motioning her head in the direction Rúdólf shuffled off to.

"Well...he's gone. So let's just hit the road. The camp's just south right?" Styrbjörn asked.

"Yep," the proprietor replied.
"You'll see a sign along the road, for the path to turn down. Can't miss it. Just be safe, like I said."

"We will," Rafnar said with a smile.

"Good," the proprietor replied.
"Take care and have a good time," she added, walking back into the store.

"What did she mean by 'be safe'?" Einhildur asked.

"She meant this," Rafnar replied, holding up the two six packs of beer.

"Bitchin'" Einhildur said with a smirk, her mood instantly improving.




Overlay of Evil by Harry Manfredini, 3:30
 
Last edited:
4 June 2036
5:20 pm
On a Wednesday
Camp Seigla, Prydania

"What are we listening to, babe?" Einhildur asked as they came up to the road leading to the camp.

"It's traditional!" Styrbjörn insisted. Indeed it was, it was traditional Prydanian folk music.

"And we're listening to that why?" Einhildur asked.

"'cause we're in the country," Styrbjörn answered, giving his girlfriend a grin. She just pulled her sunglasses down to raise an eyebrow and Styrbjörn stammered, trying to save face.
"Um... it's... you know...it was Rafnar's idea."

"Yeah, blame the guy who's hiding the beer," Rafnar replied from the back seat. He was layering ice in the cooler to cover the beer at the bottom, topped with cans of Toki's.

"You said you wanted to experience local flavour," Styrbjörn insisted, but Rafnar just chuckled.

"Whose phone is plugged into the radio, Styr?"

"That's not..."

"Who's phone?"

"Finnne," Styrbjörn groaned, turning the volume down.

"So," Einhildur said cheerfully, "two weeks and then we're headed to Skapta for Miðsumar. Ohmygod I can't wait."

"Yeah," Styrbjörn said with a smile.
"Good old fashion bonfires, dancing, drinking..."

"And me with no date," Rafnar sighed.

"Oh don't be like that. You'll meet someone else, I'm sure of it," Einhildur replied.
"If nothing else you'll meet someone there. Miðsumar puts people in a party mood."

"Party mood is right. We're out east now," Styrbjörn said with a nod.
"You know what that means."

"Oh no..." Rafnar, the student of history, said with a groan. He knew exactly what Styrbjörn was referring to.

"Bonfire jumping!" Styrbjörn replied.

"You're serious, bro?" Rafnar chuckled.

"Yeah, why not?" Styrbjörn asked casually.
"My pabbi saw it during the War, when he was serving in Austurland. Talked all about it."

"Did he do it?" Rafnar asked curiously.

"Þorfinnur?" Einhildur asked.
"No wayyyy, your pabbi wouldn't do that. He double checks his pockets for his keys three times between the door and the car. That man never jumped over any bonfires."

"Well it doesn't matter what he did or didn't do, because we're jumping over some bonfires, guys. The three of us. I'm making sure of it," Styrbjörn insisted.
"We gotta show these country boys we're not all soft in the city."

Rafnar didn't say anything to that. Bonfire jumping was one Austurland tradition he wasn't keen to try himself, but Styrbjörn certainly wanted to. He didn't mind. Maybe he'd forget about trying to get him to do it once he'd had fun. Rafnar just hoped he made the jump. He didn't want to have to call Mr. and Ms. Granseth about any incidents.

The SUV pulled up to a series of cabins along a lake, surrounded by forests, and a picturesque dock.

"This is it...I think," Styrbjörn said, parking the car and turning the engine off.
"Come on."

The three teens exited the car, all of them looking around at their secluded forested surroundings.

"Hello!"

All three jumped a bit.
"Wow," Rafnar exclaimed. "You came out of nowhere."

An older woman, in her late 30s, approached the three from the direction they'd come in. Her blonde hair was long and straight, in a ponytail, and she was wearing glasses along with long khaki work pants, and a khaki shirt that just screamed "outdoor activities."

"I'm sorry," she said smiling.
"I'm Sesselja Kvist, the camp's owner?"

"Fröken Kvist," Rafnar replied.
"Sorry...I'm Rafnar Sjöholm, and these are my friends Styrbjörn Granseth and Einhildur Vennerod."

"Right, right, I remember you all from your video chat interviews!" Sesselja replied with a smile.
"You're the first counsellors to arrive. Come on, I'll let you get settled."

Rafnar, Styrbjörn, and Einhildur all unloaded their things from the SUV as they followed Sesselja passed the first set of cabins.
"The counsellor cabins are the ones closest to the lake," Sesselja explained.

"Wait," Styrbjörn replied, as he and Rafnar carried the full cooler.
"Cabins? It's just us and three other people. These cabins gotta hold more than six people."

"That's right," Sesselja replied, cheerfully.
"But you'll notice coloured flags on the camper cabins, and it's the same for councillors. Blue for boys, red for girls. And I'm not keen to let anyone make purple."

Rafnar was ready to shoot Styrbjörn a "can you believe this?" look but his friend jumped the gun.
"You're kidding right?"

Sesselja turned around, and the three teens stopped in their tracks.
"Not. At. All," she said confidently looking them over.

"We live in a world that's a bit too hedonistic for my tastes. This place is for good. Clean. Summer. Fun." She smiled and then turned to continue leading them to the cabins. Einhildur, wearing short cut jean shorts and a retro-styled shirt that exposed a shoulder, looked down at her outfit for a moment, getting the distinct feeling she'd been judged.

"So," Sesselja continued, "that's how it is. I actually don't mind what you do on your off-hours for the most part. Watch movies, play games, go for a swim, I'm not going to micromanage. But the girls and boys- both the kiddies and you all- stay 'apart' when you're here. Understood?"

Styrbjörn looked at Einhildur and Rafnar, each giving him a bit of a shocked look. Still...they'd come this far. They were here. What were they going to do? Drive all the way back to Býkonsviði?

"Got it, no problem," Styrbjörn said as they approached the counsellor cabins.

"So if you and Rafnar," Sesselja said to Styrbjörn, "want to set up here then I'll help Einhildur get settled in the girl's counsellor cabin." The way she said it was friendly enough- aided by a smile- and yet still seemed just a bit hostile, as she insisted on it.

"Um...yeah, of course," Styrbjörn said as he and Rafnar set down the cooler.
"I guess...we'll see you soon?" he said to Einhildur, awkwardly. He wanted to go in for a kiss, but the way Sesselja was watching them even a hug seemed...problematic. They awkwardly went in for a hug before just settling on an uneasy mutual wave goodbye.

"So...I take it we're gonna have to be extra careful with the beer then," Rafnar mused.

"Yeah no kidding. Let's check out the fridge situation," Styrbjörn replied as he made his way to the cabin's kitchen area.
"Rustic," he said as he looked around. It wasn't a full kitchen, more like a kitchenette, but it had a fridge, a stove, coffee maker, toaster, and microwave. The styling though, was straight early 2020s. Probably built after the Civil War and never updated.

"I kinda like it," Rafnar said.

"Yeah, it's not bad," Styrbjörn added, opening the fridge.
"I think if we lay the beer bottles on the side we can hide them behind the pop cans..."

Rafnar had pulled his phone out.
"Wifi works," he announced as Styrbjörn began to unpack the drinks from the cooler.
"I wonder..." he added.

"Wonder what?" Styrbjörn asked.

"Gimme a second," Rafnar replied. He typed "Sesselja Kvist" into Chercher.
"Oh my God..." he muttered, causing Styrbjörn to turn around, giving his friend a curious look.

"What?"




Einhildur set her bag down and looked around the girl's counsellor cabin. It was just her for now.

"I'm sure you'll love getting to know our other counsellors," Sesselja said cheerfully.
"Kind of rude your boyfriend took all of the drinks in the cooler though."

"It's fine," Einhildur said as she claimed one of the beds as her own.
"I'll just grab some from their cabin later."

"What did I say about not mixing red and blue to get purple?" Sesselja said with a wink.
"You sit tight, I'll get them for you."

"Um..." Einhildur was a bit nervous. Sesselja could discover the beer that way. And aside from that...she just seemed a bit off. And unlike her boyfriend or Rafi she felt no compulsion to hold back.
"It's just a few cans of pop. I think you're making too big a deal out of it."

Sesselja chuckled.
"Well rules are rules."

"Yeah, but come on. I've known Styrbjörn and Rafnar since I was little. You're making it out like it's a sin just to see my friend or hug my boyfriend."

"You're welcome to leave," Sesselja replied matter-of-factly.
"But this is a good Messianist camp. And we have our rules."

"Your rules," Einhildur observed.

"That's right."

"What's so wrong about me just going over to the boy's cabin to get a can of pop?"

Sesselja's smile completely vanished and she approached the teen just a bit.
"What do you know about this place?"

"The camp?" Einhildur asked.
"Styrbjörn found the listing for counsellor jobs. He thought it would be a fun way to spend summer before the Miðsumar celebrations."

"Did he tell you about what happened here though?"

"No," Einhildur said firmly.
"He didn't."

"Well," Sesselja replied, sounding just a bit sinister.
"Let me inform you. This camp was revitalized in 2022 as part of the post-Civil War infrastructure programs. I was twenty-three at the time. I lived through the War, but my father didn't. So after the fighting my siblings and I had to pitch in when we could, and I got job at this new camp. I thought..." she chuckled, with a sense of bitterness, "that I was making a difference. Helping kids who'd suffered in the War. And I was. We were. But then..."
Sesselja grew quiet.

"Yeah?" Einhildur asked.

"You really don't know, do you?"

"No," the teen replied, growing impatient.

"The Winter King."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"The Winter King? Rafnar said something about that."

"The Winter King," Sesselja continued, sounding agitated, "was a cultist of the Thaunic god Diivin. Who, according to the pagans, was a twisted, evil deity. He tried to summon him, according to the legend, but King Vortgyn I killed him and his cultists."

"Yeah, Rafnar said something about that. And so did a crazy guy in town."

"Rúdólf," Sesselja nodded. "He remembers what happened."

"I'm not following," Einhildur replied, sounding a bit bored.

"Well Missy, you better start. Because back then, during the first summer of this camp's operation, the Winter King came back and killed every counsellor...except me."

Einhildur's eyes went wide.
"Wha...wait. I'm...I'm confused...." she pulled out her phone.

"Yes, search. You'll find the story online, I'm sure of it. Five murders...and one attempted murder. Me."

"It says here...that the killer was never caught...."

"Oh of course it says that," Sesselja scoffed.
"They didn't believe me then. But I know what I saw. I saw him kill them all...and then he tried to kill me. He drove a knife through my gut and left me to die, left me to bleed out..." Sesselja said as she turned her back on Einhuldur as she began to pace the cabin.
"I would have too, but as I lay there dying I saw something. I saw...I saw Jesús Kristur Himself looking down," she said smiling again. "He told me to hang on, that it wasn't my time. I still had a purpose to fulfill. And somehow...somehow I managed to hang onto life just long enough for the police and medics to get here."

"You were the lone survivor..." Einhildur replied as she read the stories she found.

"Yes," Sesselja said with a nod as she turned back to the teen.
"They said my account, that the Winter King returning as a Draugur, was just my traumatic recollection. But I know what I saw...I saw the Winter King try to kill me. And I saw the Messiah Himself save me."

Einhildur gulped.
"So why come back?"

"I told you," Sesselja said with a smile.
"The Messiah said I had to fulfill my purpose. And I discovered that it was this. I spent the next fourteen years working my way up to the boardrooms of Halland's tech companies, for this. To buy this camp, and reopen it as a bastion of Jesús' love. A place where children can have good, Messianic summer fun. So that's why," she said firmly, "that the rules are what they are. I get it, Missy, you don't think they have to apply to you, but they apply to everyone."

Einhildur wasn't sure what to say. On one hand she was certain- absolutely certain- that Sesselja was crazy. A Draugur? The Winter King? Undead pagan zombies were a step too far, even for a nerd like Rafnar. On the other hand she had survived a pretty brutal event in her life. The pictures of the murder spree at this camp fourteen years ago weren't pretty. And she seemed remarkably well put together for surviving that...maybe she owed her a break?

"Look, Fröken Kvist..."

"Sesselja," she replied, in a friendly tone.

"Sesselja," Einhildur replied.
"I'm sorry if I was a bit pushy. Look, I won't break any of the rules. I promise."

"Great," Sesselja said with a smile.
"I'm glad to hear that. Now feel free to unpack. I'll go get you some of that pop."

Einhildur breathed a sigh of relief as Sesselja left. After all of that she just wished for one thing.

"Please have the beer hidden, guys," she muttered under her breath as she fell back in the bed she'd been sitting on.



Suddenly Last Summer by The Motels, 3:42
 
Last edited:
Two Years Earlier

27 October 2034

8:49 pm
On a Friday
Býkonsviði, Prydania


Einhildur felt great. She'd had to sneak out in a long coat because there was no way in hell her parents were letting her out dressed like this. But now that she was here? She tossed the coat away to the side defiantly, an act of confident teenager rebellion, a declaration that she was going to let loose. Tight black shorts black knee high socks, and a black top that let her midsection exposed, all topped off with a black cat's mask, the only indication of any real theme to her outfit other than "I'm gonna have fun."

She wasn't alone with her outfit either. Most of the girls were dressed like that. Halloween. They may have all become too old for trick-or-treat'ing but the night still stocked adolescent rebellion.

Still, despite that, her outfit did catch the eyes of a few of the guys.
But she only waved to one of them.

"Styr!" she said, catching Styrbjörn lifting his scarecrow mask to take a sip of punch.

"Einhildur!" Styrbjörn answered with a wave, seeing her friend, before her outfit dawned on him.

Holy shit. She was hot. How'd he never see that about her before...?
"Um... hi... I..." he stammered but Einhildur just pointed to his red plastic cup.

"Drinking anything fun?" she asked playfully.

"Um..." Styrbjörn couldn't pull his attention from his friend's exposed midsection or the way the short black shorts she was wearing hugged her hips... but eventually he found the words.
"Nah," he said blushing.
Damnit. If any time was right for underage drinking it woulda been now, to look cool.

"Just...um... just punch. Saving the hard stuff for later," he said with a wink.

"Ok that's good Styr," he told himself. That was a save. And something he could work with. He had a flask of brennívin in one of the many pockets of his cargo pants, stolen from his parents' liquor cabinet. He'd told himself he wouldn't even drink it. They were all fifteen, too young to drink. He'd brought it though, so he didn't look lame in front of his friends. But now... if Einhildur... looking like that... wanted to? He'd drink a whole damn bottle of brennívin for her.

"Bitchin," Einhildur said with a smile as she leaned back against the counter. Styrbjörn got her a plastic cup of punch, and she lifted her mask to drink it.

"Fok even the eye glitter..." Styrbjörn thought. He'd been her friend since they were kids and... he'd never thought of her like this... but...

"So your parents know you're here?" Einhildur asked.

"My mamma and pabbi? Nah, they think I'm at Rafnar's watchin' monster movies."

"Rafnar's in Saintes visiting family," Einhildur pointed out.

"Exactly," Styrbjörn replied, giving her a wink. Já. The bad boy look. That'll work.

"What about you? Your mamma and pabbi know you're here?" He couldn't imagine her dad would let her out like that...

"They know I'm out. At a party where we're all gonna play bobbing for apples and have pumpkin carving contests," Einhildur said with an exaggerated smile and a faux-sweet tone.

"Well here's to having a good time," Styrbjörn declared, raising his cup. Einhildur happily yelled out "RALT!" which got all the other teens to do the same holding their cups up, whether they were drinking alcohol or not.

The declaration was enough for Ufi Dybdahl, who was hosting this party with his parents away on a vacation, to go "let's really get it goin'!" and turned up the music. The house full of fifteen year olds howled excitedly and a living room table and chairs were shoved aside so there'd be room to dance.

"Oh man! Let's go!" Einhildur squealed with excitement. Styrbjörn didn't even pick up she'd asked him until she grabbed his hand.
She grabbed his hand. Her skin...her hand... it was so soft and warm...

He'd usually say no. Dancing? He couldn't dance... but she wanted to and...

"Sure!"

No, Styrbjörn couldn't dance. But he was far from the only one who couldn't. The good thing was... no one seemed to care. They bobbed and headbanged and grinded against each other, as the music seemed to grow louder...
Styrbjörn was just captivated by Einhildur... she couldn't really dance either but did it matter?

He had a moment of clarity though. Lots of pretty girls here... lots of pretty girls wearing as sexy a Halloween costume as they could... but Einhildur was just captivating.

He didn't dwell on it, both of them bobbing together to the music, smiling sincerely if a bit awkwardly at each other.

And then she took his hand again.
"Come on!"

"Where we going?" he followed her into the kitchen. It was relatively quieter here, away from the dancing.

"Let's do the hard stuff!" she exclaimed.

"Wha...oh!" Styrbjörn nodded as he tossed his scarecrow mask to the kitchen counter. Einhildur tossed her cat mask two, now seeing their faces in full, smiling, a bit sweaty from the dancing but...

"Does he look cuter with sweaty hair?" Einhildur thought to herself? "Does he...?"

Styrbjörn patted down his left leg and found it, lower pocket, and produced a silver flask with a faded FRE emblem on it. His pabbi's. He shook it with a playful smile before unscrewing it and looking around. There was a punch bowl on the counter and red plastic cups strewn everywhere. He grabbed two filled them with punch and then...

"You know how much to add?" Einhildur asked, sounding genuinely curious. A soft admission she'd never mixed drinks before.

"Oh já," Styrbjörn replied hoping his bluff was convincing. He thought back to movies and tv. How'd they do it? What seemed like the right amount?

So he poured some brennívin into each... and over poured. Of course neither knew that and both winced as they went to take a sip, the sweet, fruity punch overcome by the liquor. They each tried to fight it but they both made puckered faces at each other before laughing.

"It's strong!" Einhildur said with a blush.

"Já..." Styrbjörn replied.
"Um... is it still ok?"

Einhildur nodded. She wasn't going to have her friend thinking she was a wimp!

The taste of the liquor wasn't so bad as they drank more of it, and Styrbjörn leaned back against the kitchen counter.

"So you wanna go dance again?"

"Maybe in a bit," Einhildur replied with a smile.
"This is nice though."

Styrbjörn nodded, as they drank some more, and started to talk. They were friends. They talked all the time, and they weren't breaking any new ground here. School gossip mostly, chuckling as they pointed out various who's who's at the party...

But this felt different. Styrbjörn felt lighter. He felt less worried...and he felt far less intimidated by Einhildur's outfit.

Einhildur too... she felt happier... and as they both laughed over a joke about the chess team captain... she felt just a bit dizzy. And leaned a bit into Styrbjörn, before she fell laughing into his arms.

They stopped for a moment. Styrbjörn, though his hormones and the alcohol, was worried for a moment but... she was ok. In fact she was smiling looking up at him...

And then he did it. He leaned in, and she kissed him... he kissed back....

Styrbjörn awkwardly positioned himself against the fridge so she could push him back against something that wasn't the countertop... she tasted so good, and as soon as he could, he kissed her again, as she stepped onto his feet, kissing him back. Their make-out session only interrupted when Ufi came in and gave a playful "get a room!" comment before pointing down the hallway. The guest room.

Einhildur and Styrbjörn looked at each other and... Styrbjörn didn't know what came over him! He tossed her over his shoulder, and she laughed and cheered! He had no idea he could do that! He must be getting stronger...

He carried her into the guest room and set her down on the bed, the thumping tone of the music behind them as he closed the door... crawling on bed as she kissed him again.

"Have you... have you done this before?" Einhildur asked.

Part of him wanted to lie... but he couldn't...
"No..." he said shaking his head.

"Me either..." Einhildur admitted sheepishly.
"But..."

"Já..." Styrbjörn replied. He knew. They both wanted to. He kissed her again, and slowly leaned against her, lowering her to her back...she looked up at him, her friend...
"I'm..." she said shaking.
"I think I'm ready..."

Something about that... maybe it was that she clearly didn't say it with any confidence. Maybe it was because he had his own doubts about it...
His parents weren't devout to any crazy degree, but they still went to Church every Sunday. And thought Styrbjörn was reaching that age of teenage rebellion himself... he was named after a saint! His own uncle! It made him...just think about this.

He looked down at her. God she was hot...

He sighed. And leaned back.

"What's wrong?" Einhildur asked, sounding worried and blushing. Did she do something wrong? Was she not cute enough?

"Wha...? No! No..." Styrbjörn insisted.
"But I like you... a lot."

Einhildur sat up in bed.
"So... so do I... like you I mean..."

"Is it weird? 'cause we're friends?"

"I mean..." Einhildur replied, "don't you wanna be with someone you like?"

"Já..." Styrbjörn nodded.
"I do..." he smiled.

"So... what's wrong?"

"I want to be with you... but I wanna..." he paused so he wouldn't slur his words. The brennívin was going to his head.
"Right. I want to be with you right. The right way. I wanna save myself. For you..."
He blushed. It was so lame to say! It went against everything peer pressure and tv and movies told him! He had this girl, a cute girl he liked, ready to sleep with him! He could do it... he just... it was a feeling in his mind. That he just...wanted to do this properly.

Einhildur adjusted, moving to her knees as she scooted closer to Styrbjörn.
"I like you too... and...that's ok. I mean... I mean I like that. I sounds nice."

Fok. Was she really going to marry Styrbjörn Granseth? She was only fifteen but... it felt right.

Styrbjörn nodded and she spoke up again.
"We won't do it... but... you can still spend the night with me?"

Styrbjörn nodded with a grin. Neither had drank alcohol before tonight and Styr's generous pours of brennívin had left them a bit loopy.

"Já I can..."

Einhildur grinned. She kicked her sneakers off but otherwise kept her clothes on as she lay down in bed, cuddling up against Styrbjörn. He grinned. And lay down next to her, holding her.




28 October 2034
7:26 am
On a Saturday
Býkonsviði, Prydania


Styrbjörn stirred awake and winced. His head... there was this dull, throbbing pain... and oh God. Morning wood. He pulled away from Einhildur, but... they were both clothed. So they probably didn't do anything. The conversation... he remembered it even if his head head.

"Owwww is this a hangover?" Einhildur muttered, as she stirred awake.

"I think so..." Styrbjörn replied, quickly pulling his knees to his chest to hide the tent in his pants.

Einhildur noticed and smiled, propping herself up with one hand under her head.

"Last night... you meant what you said right?" she asked softly.

"Já..." Styrbjörn replied.
"I did."

"That's good... thank you."

"For what?"

Einhildur blushed. She felt like she was starring in one of those lame videos they showed you at school.
"For not taking advantage of me..."

Styrbjörn blushed but smiled. He was just as drunk as her.
"I said I wanted to do it the right way," he shrugged.

The two picked themselves up, and left the guest room. The house was a mess. Chips plastic cups, blunts... fok if the cops showed up they'd have a field day. Their classmates were all sprawled out. Most still asleep. A few couples here and there, but the two made sure to be quiet. Styrbjörn helped Einhildur into her coat, and the two slipped out onto the sidewalk. It was early but already Býkonsviði was coming alive for the Saturday. True, it was chilly and the sky was grey but people were already out and about. At least the overcast skies spared them a little bit in their hungover state.

"I'll walk you home," Stybjörn said with a smile as they held hands on the sidewalk.

"So are we... boyfriend and girlfriend?" Einhildur asked.

"Já... I mean... if you want!" Styrbjörn answered.

She chuckled.
"I I like that..." she said, causing Styr to smile.
"But Ufi saw us. What do we say? About... you know. We were alone all night..."

"It's no one's business," Styrbjörn answered.
"It's just ours."

The two just spent the rest of the walk holding hands, each enjoying the feeling. They both wanted to say so much more, but didn't know how. But... neither felt any pressing need to say anything either. Also... they were both hungover. That helped.

Eventually they got to Einhildur's family's townhouse.

"Um... do you wanna hang out tomorrow?" she asked.
"I think I need to sleep this off..." she chuckled.

"Já... já I'd like that..." he replied.
"I can pick you up after Church tomorrow?"

"That's great," she said with a smile, giving him a soft peck on the lips. Each of their hearts fluttered as they looked into each other's eyes...

"See you tomorrow, Styr."

"See ya Ein..."




28 October 2034
8:10 am
On a Saturday
Býkonsviði, Prydania


Father Finngeir Rössvoll noticed someone was in the confession booth at St. Josef's. He found that he had a rather good aptitude for this part of his work. People found him comforting. And they found him reassuring.

He sat, and slid the divider away, the intricate screen still obscuring who was on the other end. If only he wasn't so good with voices!

"Tell me what weighs on you, my child," he said in a friendly voice.

"Bless me father, for I have sinned. It's been three months since my last confession."

Styrbjörn Granseth. Of course Finngeir knew him!
His own son, Björnólfur, had been killed alongside Styrbjörn's uncle, who he had been named after. They were murdered by the Syndicalist regime in the Advent Executions of 2015. Since the end of the War Finngeir had gotten to know Styrbjörn's father. He'd helped comfort him, became a family friend... and he'd been Uncle Finngeir to his children!

Of course Styrbjorn would know that. He must know that. Confession was supposed to be private but he knew the kid he was practical and uncle to and Styrbjörn knew he was the priest at this church. He was coming here because he knew he could trust him.
In one way... that was worrying. Was he ok?

"It's ok, my child," Finngeir replied, keeping up the allusion of anonymity.
"What's troubling you?"

"I was at a Halloween party..." Styrbjörn began. He paused. Finngeir smiled. Kids will be kids.

"A party is not a sin. God doesn't expect us to stay home praying all the time." He just wanted to comfort the kid.

"Well, Father, at the party there was alcohol. And I know I'm under age but... but I drank it..."

Finngeir nodded. Honestly? He found it kind of adorable. The kid he'd once known as a baby was going to parties now.
"I would never condone under age drinking, my child, but that in and of itself isn't a terrible transgression."

"My friend Einhildur was there and..."

"Oh no," Finngeir thought.
"Don't say what I think you're gonna say..."

"...and we got drunk and made out."

Finngeir waited for more... but there wasn't anything.
"Is that... that it my son?"

"We were about to do... more.... " Styrbjörn paused for a moment.
"But we decided not to."

Finngeir breathed a sigh of relief.
"That's good. Good for both of you. But if you didn't go further..."

"We kissed a lot. A lot. And... we decided we wanted to be together the right way. But... I'm worried I may have sinned."

Finngeir smiled. Styrbjörn had a girlfriend! That was too sweet. And too cute. And he'd actually shown some restraint...
He knew that depending on who you asked kissing with the tongue might be sinful, from a purely priestly perspective, but he shrugged.

"My son," he said, "God has His commandments. And these are very hard and fast, but everything else is a bit circumstantial. You were drinking. You were enjoying a night with your friends. All in all this is harmless, relatively. You found your way with a girl you liked and you both decided to be responsible. The only sin here is underage drinking," he chuckled.
"But you and this young lady are on a good path."

There was a pause for a moment.
Styrbjörn nodded.
"Thank you Father."

"Say a Hail Marry," Finngeir added.
"For the drinking. But don't worry about your new girlfriend. She and you made the right decision."

Styrbjörn nodded, saying the prayer quickly, if earnestly. Finngeir replied with the prayer of absolution.

"Go in peace my son," Finngeir said with a nod.

Stybjörn smiled. He was just... he liked Einhildur. He wanted to do things properly. And he just had to make sure.

"Thank you Father," he said, before leaving.

Finngeir smirked. He'd never betray the sanctity of a confession but he was curious what Þorfinnur would think!




Love is a Lie by Lion, 4:47
 
Last edited:
4 June 2036
5:23 pm
On a Wednesday
Camp Seigla, Prydania

"What's wrong?" Styrbjörn asked, as he arranged the fridge so that the cans of Tóki's would hide the beer.

"Fröken Kvist..." Rafnar muttered.

"What about her?" Styrbjörn asked, fiddling with the fridge setup.

"This camp was first opened in 2022, she was a councillor there," Rafnar explained.
"There was a huge murder spree. Everyone but her died. She survived a stab wound to the gut. Did you know about this?"

"We were three dude, no," Styrbjörn said with a shrug as he stepped back, to admire the perfectly arranged fridge setup.
"That's a Goddamn masterpiece."

"She said..." Rafnar continued reading from his phone, "that it was the Draugur of the Winter King."

"She's nuts," Styrbjörn replied.
"You heard the whole 'morals' bit? No fraternizing between boys and girls?"

Rafnar couldn't help but laugh as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

"What's so funny?"

"I donno, you gettin' judgy about that? Aren't you a good church going' boy?" Rafnar joked, pointing to the silver necklace around Styrbjörn's neck. He took it from under his t-shirt. It was a St. Michael the Archangel medallion.

"Hey, don't confuse Laurenists with Courantists. She's got that whole crazy Laurenist thing goin', we Courantists can still have fun," Styrbjörn winked.

"That medal though, it's not your Uncle. Isn't he a Saint?"

"Pabbi has one like that, but this was my Uncle Styrbjörn's," Styrbjörn replied softly.

"Oh, gotcha," Rafnar said with a nod. He knew to be very respectful about that.

"But Fröken Kvist, she claims back in 2022 that the person who killed all those people was the Winter King."

"She's nuts like I said," Styrbjörn shrugged. "Whatever. We'll be outta here in two weeks with some decent cash."

"I mean this IS where the Winter King was killed..." Rafnar mused, only for Styrbjörn to shake his head.

"My man... save it for the campfire. Scare some ten year olds."

"I hope you won't scare them TOO much."

Styrbjörn and Rafnar both looked over. Sesselja Kvist was standing in the doorway.

"I'm all for a good time but this is a happy place," she added.
"Not a place for ghost stories to scare the kids silly."

"Right, sorry," Rafnar said softly, looking down a bit as Sesselja walked over.

"What story were you going to tell them?" she asked, and Rafnar froze. He wasn't going to cop to talking about the Winter King. Not after learning this lady had survived a murder spree she thought was committed by his zombie.

"Um..." Rafnar muttered, Sesselja's eyes narrowing until...

"HAPPY UNITY DAY FOKERS!"

All three turned around, as a guy wearing swim trunks, sneakers, and a red shirt with the words "RED AND WHITE PRYDANIAN DYNAMITE"- the national football team's motto- emblazoned across it. He was also wearing what looked like very expensive sunglasses.

"Which bunk's mine?" he asked though he didn't wait for an answer, tossing his bags onto it.

"Excuse me?" Sesselja asked, sounding put off by... well, everything... about this guy.

"Oh hey," the newcomer replied, taking his glasses off and hanging them by his shirt collar.
"Girl's cabin's that way, but I kinda like you being all darin' like this," he said with a sleazy smile.

"Sesselja Kvist," Sesselja said with a bit of a smirk.
"Camp proprietor."

"Oh..." the newcomer replied. He had a complexion that was a bit darker than usual for a Prydanian, so Rafnar and Styrbjörn could both see he'd gone a bit pale. But he recovered quickly.
"Sorry... Fröken, you're just so young and beautiful looking."

"Umhm," she replied.
"You must be..."

"Sólríkt, Sólríkt Adwani," he answered with a smile.

"You didn't recognize me from our video chat when you, Yrsa, and Astrid were interviewed?"

"What can I say? The webcam doesn't do you justice." Sólríkt just barrelled along with the charm. Even when he knew he was fokked.

"Well that's... super," Sesselja said, keeping her temper under control.
"I take it that means Yrsa and Astrid are in the girl's cabin with Einhildur?"

"Who's Einhildur?" Sólríkt asked.

"My girlfriend, bro," Styrbjörn replied. Not unfriendly, but still rather firm.

"Well if she's in the girl's cabin then já," Sólríkt replied. "That's where Astrid and Yrsa are."

"Excellent," Sesselja declared before turning back to face Rafnar and Styrbjörn.
"I came to get drinks for the girls. I'll just..." she went to move to the fridge and Rafnar jumped down from sitting on the counter. He did NOT need her seeing the beer in the fridge.

"I'll get that," he said, quickly moving about half the Tóki's into his duffel bag.
"There you go, Fröken Kvist."

"Danke," Sesselja replied, grabbing the bag and heading out. But not before she stopped to face the three boys.
"Remember! Behave!"

Styrbjörn gave her a mock salute, which she seemed to appreciate, grinning before leaving.

"Sólríkt Adwani?" Styrbjörn asked.
"That Syrixian?"

"Já my pabbi's from there," Sólríkt replied, looking around.
"My God this place is a shithole."

"I donno," Rafnar shrugged.
"It has its rustic charm."

"Bro, rustic is just country speak for poor," Sólríkt shot back dryly.
"You two from around here?"

"Býkonsviði," Rafnar replied.

"Ah, nice nice. Keris myself," Sólríkt replied. Styrbjörn would have guessed. The Swamp Dragons football and hockey patches on his bag gave that away.

"I'm Styrbjörn Granseth," Styrbjörn replied. He was a bit standoffish because... well... Sólríkt came off like a wrecking ball.

"And this is my best friend, Rafnar Sjöholm."

"Hey," Rafnar replied with a wave.

"Heya," Sólríkt replied.
"Plans for tonight?"

"Plans? I donno. Figured I'd explore the camp site," Rafnar shrugged.

"Bro, it's a few cabins, some canoes, a nature trail, and an archery range. Come on. No. We should head into town tonight! It's Unity Day. We'll see some fireworks, get some beer, find some chicks."

"I mean..." Rafnar began, only for Styrbjörn to speak up.

"Doesn't sound so bad," he shrugged.
"Could be fun. But if you want beer? We got beer."

"Aces," Sólríkt exclaimed, heading over to the fridge.
"Gull? LáBru? Wow... cheap stuff... eh whatever," he mumbled, grabbing a Gull and popping the bottle cap off.

Rafnar and Styrbjörn just gave each other a look.
Two weeks was a long time.




OOC Note: my apologies to @Yalkan

Talking in Your Sleep by The Romantics, 3:55
 
4 June 2036
8:03 pm
On a Wednesday
Smiðurgrænn, Prydania


"That’s my epic tale," the singer bellowed as the bar erupted into applause.
"Our champion prevailed...defeated the Syndies, now pour him some ale!"

Everyone else in the bar cheered and sang the chorus.

"For the King, to Valhalla! O’ Valley of Plenty!"

Rafnar and Styrbjörn each looked at each other and howled as they raised their beers.

"O’ Valley of Plenty!" they sang with everyone else. Sólríkt was really insistent but coming out tonight was the right call. No, they weren't in Býkonsviði where the Unity Day celebrations were in full force, but they were having fun here. Beer, friends, patriotic songs... and ladies.

Styrbjörn drank his beer just as Einhildur decided to hang off of him. Styrbjörn smiled at her and pulled her close to him as they started swaying.
Indeed, the celebration of patriotic music celebrating Unity Day had given way to slower, more intimate music. Rafnar sighed. That was his cue to make an exit. He didn't have a date, and couldn't dance anyway. So he made his way off the dance floor, heading to the bar.

"Where're ya goin'?"

Rafnar turned to see Sólríkt dancing with Astrid, who he'd since learned were together.

"Just to get a drink," he replied.
He didn't know what to make of Sólríkt. He was friendly, in a very upfront way. And Rafnar? Well... Rafnar was a bit subdued.

"Duces," Sólríkt replied before returning his attention to Astrid.

Rafnar looked around. There was one more person in their group of six. Yrsa. And whereas everyone else was paired off... both groups were kinda pushing them together. She was cute. She had blue eyes and chestnut hair that she wore loose...and tended to like baggy clothing. Which... Rafnar didn't know why... he found that really attractive. And she seemed friendly, but he'd been a bit too nervous to be too overt with her. Eh... maybe he'd get some more beer in him and find the courage?

He ordered another one as he took a seat at the bar. He'd just plant himself here until the slow dance music, which had become a more traditional style you expected in the country, to stop.

"One Gull," he ordered, trading a x50 note for the bottle. He pushed the change towards the bartender, signalling he could keep it before he began to drink.
He wasn't a heavy drinker, only really doing it with his friends. This was one of those nights where he'd probably push past what he usually did though.

He listened to the music a bit as he sipped, taking off his glasses to wipe away some sweat, before curiosity got the better of him. He pulled out his phone, and began searching. About the murders that happened here in 2022. Styrbjörn was right. They were three. Still... he felt he had faint memories from that point in his life. Did he remember anything? Something he might have seen on the tv? No... besides. He was a few beers deep.

So he continued to scroll, and then... a name. Ref Fógeta. The name of the killer! He went to read about him when...

"Not into dancing?"

"Huh?"

"I mean... you're sittin' here playing on your phone, must not be good at dancing!"

Rafnar smiled. It was Yrsa. He'd lost track of her when they got here. He figured he must not be into him...
But here she was. Wearing baggy military cargo pants, a baggy black long sleeved t-shirt, with a Prydanian flag draped over her shoulders that she must have picked up in the Unity Day celebrations.

"No, I'm not good at dancing," Rafnar chuckled as he slipped his phone into his pocket. He'd read up on what he found later. He just felt daring enough to try and talk to this girl like a human being.

"Wanna sit down?" he asked motioning to the stool next to him.

Yrsa looked at him almost curiously and smiled.
"Sure!"

"What do ya want, Fröken?" the bartender asked.

"Um... what's he having?"

"Gull," Rafnar replied with a smile, holding up the golden bottle of ale.

"One of those then!" Yrsa declared. Rafnar didn't know why but... he pulled out another x50 note.

"You don't need to..." Yrsa replied, and Rafnar blushed. He'd kinda hoped she'd let him... if she said something wasn't that a sign she didn't like him? But he was committed.

"You'll get the next one."

That seemed to work. Yrsa nodded.

"From Keris..." Rafnar began. He know she, Astrid, and Sólríkt were from Keris. And it seemed like a good place to start talking...
"That's a fun place."

"You've been?"

"My pabbi takes me. He works for Heimviður. Sometimes he needs to pop into the Keris offices and he'll take me to catch a hockey game."

"You play?" Yrsa asked.

"I do!" Rafnar replied. He was a history nerd, was shy, and was into comic books and Vasamon. But he also played hockey. It was one of few things he had to impress the girls.
"I'm a goalie. The goalie for Styr and I's high school team."

"Oh neat," Yrsa replied.
"Ok, cool. Am I gonna see you in the ÍDP?"

Rafnar grinned. Even better if she watched hockey.
"I'm not that good! We just play for our high school. The junior leagues haven't come callin'," he smirked.
"So that's why I'm workin' on Plan B."

"What's Plan B?" Yrsa asked, smiling a bit mischievously. Causing Rafnar to smirk back.

"Gonna study history at University of Býkonsviði."

"That's pretty neat!" Yrsa replied causing Rafnar to raise an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"History isn't my thing," she answered.
"But I got into U of B too. I'm gonna study criminology! Maybe we'll see each other around!"

Rafnar just stared blankly for a minute before the alcohol in his system pushed him to say somethings

"I'd like that."

Yrsa smiled and chuckled.
"Is that what you were looking at? On your phone?"

"Eh?"

"Sorry," Yrsa replied with a blush. Rafnar just chuckled.

"No it's ok it's..." he had a revelation. He always struggled with "small talk." Which hurt him with girls. But she'd let it slip she was going to study criminology and...

"I was reading up about the murders that happened here fourteen years ago."

It felt like an eternity, because he could have captured her interest or ended his chances forever but... she smiled slyly.

"Oh I know! Why do you think we took a job here?"

Rafnar couldn't help it. He broke into a chuckle.
"What?"

"Sólríkt and Astrid... I told them about Camp Seigla! I found out about it last year from this true crime podcast."

"And they, your friends, they're into that?"

"Oh God no!" Yrsa laughed. "Astrid thought it was 'freaky, and not in a hot way,' but Sólríkt thought it was cool enough! Plus it pays well."

"Ha," Rafnar chuckled.
"All I knew about was the legend of the Winter King. I had no idea, well... the murders..."

"Hey dude, you wanna get some air?"

Rafnar looked at her for a moment and smiled.
"Já I do."

Yrsa set the flag down on the bar and led him outside. Rafnar found himself starring at her ass through her baggy camo cargo pants before he shook himself out of it.
"Come on be cool," he told himself before the two found themselves out in front of the bar. A typical country bar, the music faintly echoing inside as they stood mostly alone out by the cars and trucks out front, an empty country road and the forest before them. The stars above...

"Sorry, it was getting stuffy in there," Yrsa said as she drank more of her beer. The cool summer night air just feeling... comfortable.
"Nah, I agree..." Rafnar replied with a smile.

"So history and criminology," Yrsa mused.
"And we're in the one spot where they come together..."

"Já... I mean..." he stopped himself from saying he didn't pick this place like she did. Why ruin the moment?

"It's just crazy. Some people... I mean it's a bedtime story. The Winter King. But maybe you know why he did it?"

"Ref Fógeta?"

"I was reading about him. Well I saw his name when I looked up when I searched Kvist."

"Kvist...she's something. But... um... you asked if you knew why he did it?"

"I mean I know the Winter King story and the history," Rafnar shrugged.
"But I figured you're into true crime stuff."

"That's the crazy thing..." she started to walk down the road into town, and Rafnar followed. He felt...lighter?
"Like...ok. Tell me about the Winter King."

"Um... the story?"

"Everything."

Rafnar nodded. He was good at this sort of thing.
"Grendel Ællavetin, back during Vortgyn's war against the Bayardi, led an army of cultists. He called himself the Winter King and they tried to lead a rebellion against Vortgyn. But Vortgyn's army defeated them, and he was killed. Since then it's been a story around these parts that his Draugur will get you if you're bad. You know normal fairy tale kids stuff."

"Huh," Yrsa replied as they continued the walk into town.
"Here's the thing... none of that explains a Goddamn thing."

"Huh," Rafnar replied, unsure if he should be insulated or not.

"Ok... Ref Fógeta was eighteen in 2022. He didn't fight in the War but his mamma and pabbi both did. And they both survived. After the War he helped them with their business. They used to own the general store in town. Everything I read said Ref, all things considered, was normal. As normal as anyone was back then, you know?"

Rafnar chuckled nervously. Everyone had a parent or uncle from the War but his pabbi hadn't fought for the right side. And it was probably for the best to not get into that.

"Everyone liked him, he was just... a regular part of the community rebuilding. Just a normal guy."

"So what happened?" Rafnar asked curiously as they made it to the small town square. Small Prydanian flag decorations hanging from buildings for the holiday.

"That's it. No one one knows," Yrsa answered as they took a seat on a bench in the little part area in the middle of town.
"One night, fourteen years ago, he politely excused himself from dinner with his parents, and came back with an axe. And kills them. Then he fastened a makeshift costume to look like the Winter King, went to the camp, and killed as many people as he could."

"Jesús..." Rafnar uttered.

"It's fokked up," Yrsa replied with a nod.
"He's in a psychiatric hospital under lock and key in Alaterva," she continued.
"They thought maybe it was trauma from the War, but Ref never saw combat."

"Maybe, but he still coulda seen something. That and the old stories of the Winter King..." Rafnar started but Yrsa just shook her head.

"Know what I think?"

"What?"

"Sometimes this shit just happens," Yrsa shrugged.
"I'm kinda fokked in the head," she added with a laugh before drinking some more beer.
"I mean what kinda weirdo listened to true crime podcasts and reads up on grizzly fourteen year old murders?"

"I don't think it's fokked... interesting maybe, but not fokked," Rafnar said with a soft smile. One Yrsa returned.

"Well I've read and heard a lot to know this shit just happens. Ten years ago, suburbs of Kalgary, Malor-Kanada. Some normal ten year old kills his sister on Halloween. No explanation. Two years ago. Hadden. A school groundskeeper with zero history of mental illness... just snaps one day. Kills some kids. That's just off the top of my head. But a disturbing amount of murders are just people who... snapped. No reason. Nothing that explains it nicely. They just go from normal to murder like that," she said as she snapped her fingers.

"That's... disconcerting," Rafnar muttered but Yrsa just smirked.

"Well I don't have to worry."

"Why not?" Rafnar asked.

"That happens to normal people. I'm a little fokked up already. I think that means I won't be totally fokked up."

Rafnar laughed and shrugged.
"What about Ref? He's in a hospital right? What's he said?"

"He hasn't said a word since he was arrested on that night fourteen years ago..." she winked.

"Spooky..." Rafnar replied with a smile.
"So... me. What about me? Do I have to worry about snapping one day? Or am
I fokked up enough to be alright?" he asked looking at her with a smile. Her blue eyes sparkled under the street lights as she smirked.

"I don't know yet."

Neither of them were idiots. They each came here single, with friends who were couples. They could feel them wanting them to hook up for that perfect summer vibe. It was innocent really, they wanted their friends to be happy... but did they like each other? There was a certain feeling both felt... that feeling that they didn't have a choice and now they had to make sure this person was a good fit for them.

Hell... if they could bring themselves to talk about that instead of a grizzly axe murder it might have even been productive. But teenage worries and hormones were tricky things. Já to lust, já to interest, but terrified for being too open.

They sat, under the night stars. The town wasn't entirely dead. Sure most people were at the bar, celebrating Unity Day. But it wasn't even 9, and the town streets were lively enough. There was a steiktsvínakjöt stand nearby.

"You wanna grab something to eat?" Rafnar asked.

"Sure," Yrsa answered, Rafnar helping her up. And holding onto her hand just long enough before the two let go.

"I think it's my turn to pay," Yrsa said with a smirk.

"Maybe next time," Rafnar replied. "Maybe next time..." he'd already slid the cash to the guy at the stand.

"I'm gonna owe you a full dinner by the end of tonight!" Yrsa laughed.

"Maybe," Rafnar chuckled.
If he was lucky... that was a date ready to happen!

The stand produced the freshly fried pork belly and potato slices quick in two baskets.

"Let's clog some arteries," Rafnar chuckled. Yrsa toasted him with her beer.
"Ralt!"

Under the June moons.




The Darkest Side of Night by Metropolis, 4:58
 
4 June 2036
11:01 pm
On a Wednesday
Smiðslund Hospital
outside of Alaterva, Prydania


"Boo!"

Hallbera Steenrod shrieked, tensing up before her terrified expression turned to annoyances.

"Fok off Nik!" the twenty year old nurse in training insisted as she hit Niklas Ronningen, a 26 year old psych rotation med student on the shoulder.

"What babe?" Niklas asked as he chuckled and leaned back against the counter in the staff kitchen as Hallbera took her dinner to the far end of the kitchen. The distance meant little considering they were the only two there.

Hallbera said nothing, rolling her eyes as she munched on her chicken and cheese smjörbrauð sandwich. Nik sighed. He just wanted to have a bit of fun. He crossed his arms and looked around.

Paper Prydanian flag decorations hung from the windows and counters for Unification Day. It was supposed to be festive. But it was just another reminder that he was stuck here working the late shift instead of hitting up one of the bonfire hopping parties. Hell, the fireworks in the distance only drove home how much it sucked to be stuck here.

"Fok it" he muttered. The holiday was almost over and he was gonna make the most of it.

"I'm sorry honey," he said as he walked towards Hallbera.
"I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Just 'cause we work near a morgue doesn't mean it's gotta be a morgue, you know?"

Hallbera looked up from her sandwich and raised an eyebrow.
"How the hell are you almost a doctor?"

"Because!" Nik proclaimed sitting down backward in a chair across from Hallbera, his chin resting on the headrest.
"I'm just so lovable. You, my profs, Dr. Vefstóll, they can't get enough of me."

Hallbera sighed and was about to chew him out but his dorky, lovable smile... she chuckled.

"See? Knew it," Nik leaned in, giving her a peck of a kiss on the lips.

"We're at work," she said softly but with a mischievous grin.

"Já but it's slow, and just us..."

"Dr. Vefstóll's kicking around somewhere..."

"Oh forget about him. Just you and me baby..."

The two kissed, tongues entwined, before Hallbera pulled back.

"Let me finish my shift first. Hot stuff or not I'm not getting in trouble over your cute ass," she said, getting up and giving Nik's butt a slap through his scrubs as she went to get a Toki's from the fridge.

"Heh," Nik chuckled letting himself fall on the couch to stretch out if he wasn't getting any right away.

"So..." Hallbera began.
"What got you all ready to try and scare me?" she asked as she sipped the pop.

"You know, bored," Nik shrugged as he lay on the couch before getting a mischievous idea.
".. and you know. There's plenty to be scared about."

"Ghost stories? Come on Nik. I already said I'd fok you, you don't need to try so hard," she replied, rolling her eyes dismissively.

Nik, though, seemed put out by his girlfriend's dismissively responses to his attempt to stir up some fun.

"I mean it," he replied. "I mean..."
He got up to walk towards her slowly.

"You know what this place is, right?"

Hallbera raised an eyebrow curiously as Nik walked up to her.

"Oh sure, they cleaned it up. You'd never know if you weren't looking for it," he continued with his voice getting lower and lower, more sinister.
"But this place, this place used to be where the Syndies sent those they had to 're-educate.' So many innocent people lost their lives here, Hall, so many restless souls..."

He was face to face with her now. And she was trembling just a bit. He smiled ever so slightly.

"You mean..." she began to say, looking around as if she maybe saw some movement in the shadows of the hallway... "that..."

"Já," Nik said solemnly with a nod.

"...that... that..." Hallbera's mood suddenly shifted from scared to annoyed again.
"...that they didn't turn that place into a memorial and museum fifteen minutes down the road?"

Nik's gaze went wide! Shit!

"Já," she said with a chuckle, going to her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "This place was built a year after the War ended. Sorry champ."

She pushed past her boyfriend to grab her files and prepare to finish up her shift.

"I figured a Keris girl like you wouldn't have known about that," Nik laughed nervously.

"I've been out here for two years, Nik. Come on," she replied, sounding more annoyed as she left the staff kitchen. Nik followed her, hands in his scrub pockets as he walked casually after her.

"Ok you got me, you got me."

"And using something like that horrible place to try and scare me? You outta be ashamed of yourself."

"I'm encourageable," Nik replied playfully as he leaned against the nurse station desk.

"You're sick in the head," Hallbera replied as she organized files.
"Don't you have patients to see?"

"Everyone's nice and tended to, come on."

"Whatever," she made her way down the hallway again as Nik followed.

"But ok. This place isn't haunted by the ghosts of Syndie victims but there's still a story you should know about this place. A real scary story."

"Já? What is it? Were you born here?"

"Ooo that's just mean."

"Umhm," Hallbera gave him a cheeky grin.

"Ref Fógeta."

That made Hallbera stop and turn to face Nik. The name wasn't immediately recognizable but she'd heard it before.

"He's, um... I've heard of him. He's in the psych ward." That made her nervous. The Hospital was two basements and four floors above ground. The fourth floor was the psych ward. And you needed clearance to get up there. She'd never been and everyone here told her to never go.

"Já," Nik replied with a nod.
"Do you know who he is?"

"No..." she answered, sounding cautious. Nik had tried that stupid Syndie camp hoax so she was on guard. But Nik just kept his natural swagger and kept talking.

"He should have been the luckiest kid in Prydania. Both his parents fought for the FRE during the War. And both survived. He got to have a whole family... but... maybe it was always meant to end in tragedy."

"What?" Hallbera asked, now sounding intrigued.

"Fourteen years ago Ref was eating dinner with his parents. And he just... he snapped. He excused himself, and came back with an axe and murdered his family. And then he went on the run. He adopted the Winter King persona... and he murdered all of the councillors at Camp Seigla, to the west."

"Holy shit..." Halberra muttered. Nik was full of crap about that Syndie camp story but she knew that Ref Fógeta was a real person here. Maybe Nik was lying about the story but... she doubted it.

"Holy shit is right babe. They captured him that night. He'd only say one thing. 'I'm the Winter King.' Over and over. They declared him too insane to stand trial and he's been here ever since."

"He...he is?"

Nik pointed to the sign on the wall. A 3. This was the third floor. And then he pointed up.
"He could be right above us."

Hallbera whimpered and looked up.

"You wanna see him?"

Her eyes shot open, and she shook her head.
"I don't have clearance to go up there."

"I do. Come on. I'll show you him. He's locked up anyway. It's fine."

"I mean I gue..."

"Absolutely not."

The two froze and turned around. Dr. Spiut Vefstóll was a man of 65, with a face like a bulldog. And a mane of previously blond now stark white hair. His white lab coat hanging loosely over him, contrasting with the black turtleneck he wore underneath. He was an older fok, sure, but Nik got the sense that he was a bruiser in his day. And besides he was his boss.

"I was just..."

"Ref Fógeta is the single most dangerous person east of Skógurheorot," Dr. Vefstóll added, ignoring Nik's attempted defence.
"And if I find you or anyone else treating him like a bloody gun you've found in your pabbi's nightstand I swear by God Almighty I'll drum you out of the medical profession."

Nik looked over at Hallberra, who looked down. He sighed and nodded.
"I under... we understand Dr. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Good," Dr. Vefstóll replied, turning to walk away.

"But..." the Doctor stopped as he heard Hallbera speak. He turned around. Looking... not so much annoyed as he was angry.

"What Nik said is true? How he killed his family and those camp councillors?"

"Já," Dr. Vefstóll nodded.
"And I've spent fourteen years looking after him."

"So..." Hallbera continued, walking past Nik. She'd gotten into this far more than Nik had planned...

"...why?"

"Why what, dear?"

"You've been his doctor for fourteen years. Why he'd do it?"

Dr. Vefstóll just looked her up and down.
"Because young lady, he's pure evil."

Now it was Nick's turn to be incredulous. He was a med school student, and Dr. Vefstóll was one of the most respected doctors at this hospital. He expected better than him to diagnose a patient, even a psychotic one, with "pure evil."

"Come on Dr. He's a trauma case. Probably the worst ever, but there it is. He saw some shit during the War and..."

"The War is a crutch. Do you understand?"

"I understand he's..."

"No."

Nik looked at Hallbera and then back at Dr. Vefstóll.
"Pardon?"

Dr. Vefstóll closed the gap between them and turned to the counter of the nurse station. Like most counters it was decorated with a string of paper Prydanian flags. The doctor picked one up.
"Heh..."

"The War is a crutch."

"What do you mean?"

"Ronningen," Dr. Vefstóll said as he approached Nik.
"You would have been what? Six when the War ended?"

"Seven sir."

Dr. Vefstóll nodded.
"Everyone uses the War as a crutch. No doubt families will grapple with its effects for years to come, but we sometimes fall into the habit of using it to explain the unfortunate and uncomfortable."

"The uncomfortable?" Hallbera asked.

"Já my dear. After fourteen years of talking to him, of studying him, I've arrived at one conclusion. One inescapable conclusion. That if fate had given us a decade and a half of peace instead of war, if the traumas of that conflict had never manifested, then Ref Fógeta would have still murdered his parents and those camp councillors. Because that's who he is. What he is. Evil."

Nik and Hallbera looked at each other. Each felt... unnerved. Maybe it was Dr. Vefstóll maybe it was...

"Fourteen years," Dr. Vefstóll continued.
"I spent six trying to reach him. And eight making sure he never leaves here."

Nik was suitably unnerved, and the way Hallbera squeezed his arm told him she felt the same way.

"I'm sorry Doctor. We'll..."

Hallbera screamed as Nik looked around panicked. The power had gone out.



Halloween Theme (Slow and Reverb) by Jacèvo, 3:23
 
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