THIS POST IS STRICTLY "VTUBER LORE" AND IS NO WAY CORRELATED WITH SOUL EATER AND IT'S CREATORS. IT IS HIGHLY INFLUENCED BY THE ANIME, BUT ALL RIGHTS GO TO IT'S PERSPECTIVE OWNERS.

Entry: 10/4/30xx 2:35pm

"A sound soul... Rests within a sound mind, and a sound body..."

I haven't been feeling very sound lately... 

For one, I keep having these dreams. A terrible Russian Roulette of possibly night terrors, nothingness, and what could only be described as visions or distant memories.

A few nights ago, I had a dream of something that happened a few months ago. I was invited to 'hang out' with some people I knew from school. At the time I wasn't aware of their malicious intent, and having little to no social life I took what I could for a posse. They knew I was a weak link, someone to exploit for entertainment. I knew no better.

We entered an abandoned Mansion, a place long restricted for reasons unknown to the public. I've only ever seen Lord Death, some Meisters, and their weapons exit. Everyone else who's entered and exited has never been the same. Despite my warnings, they went in and I had no choice but to follow. I was responsible for their well-being, as we had been drinking the few hours before and I had way less than the other three.

The place was huge, a large, dark, and musty castle that could count as its own village had its forefathers thrived. Layers of dust clung to every surface, cobwebs draping like curtains from the tall ceiling. There was no electricity to power the lights, but my friends weren't too far and I could see their torch and hear their laughter fading down the hall.

Catching up wasn't difficult, and as I approached I noticed the door that they stopped before. Wooden boards were nailed to the wall, preventing anyone from even viewing the entrance. Several pieces of paper were stapled onto the wood, many containing the mark of the Shinigami, warnings for civilians, and what worried me the most... Warding sigils that had been carved into the wood itself.

I had seen a similar variety, and had studied some of their protective properties in college, but these were different. I could tell they were somehow older, potentially carved by The Old One themselves. Yet no amount of warnings could've stopped them, they'd made up their drunken minds way before we began drinking. It was the whole plot of today's adventure. 

As the last of the iron nails were pulled and clattered to the floor, instincts kicked in. We shouldn't be here and we've done something really bad. It was the first time I had stood up to them and as I was insisting we leave, it didn't mean much as they dragged me inside anyways. Their laughter now with a hint of sinister glee.

"I'm too scared to go down and you're so brave~ Hehe~"

"Just go look at what's there then come back up."

"We'll be right behind you..."

Three against one, wonderful. I involuntarily led the pack, pushed into the narrow and cold stairs to the basement with their bodies as a barricade to the exit. I didn't believe they would follow for a second, but I had to go...

The descent only made the air grow colder, thick with tension. I only heard their steps make it halfway down before quickly skittering back up. I didn't make it to the bottom, chasing them back up in time to see the door slam on my face. 

How did I not see this coming?

Thrashing my body against the heavy metal did nothing but stir the dust into my lungs, and I could hear the thundering of a hammer against the wall. "No- PLEASE- DON'T BLOCK ME IN HERE!! I-I CAN'T BREATHE—"

My pleas only made them laugh, my tears mocked despite my heavy coughing. As their taunts faded, I knew I was left for dead and my only option lay below. So down I went, descending to what is now my room for the night. They've done this before, locked me in a place I didn't want to be, but they had always come back to let me out in a few hours or by the morning. So all that's left is to wait it out and try not to drown in dust and mold.

I was exploring the cellar, wondering why the floors had been covered with wood rather than leaving the natural stone. I wish I wasn't so curious, maybe I would've avoided what happened as I stepped towards the center of the room where a large sigil was scratched into it.

Splintering wood... The floor gave out... Falling...

Like floating down a lazy river, it was nice. Only to be shoved into the deep end with a painful crack...

But there was a pale hand that reached under, grabbing at whatever was left of me and pulling me to the surface. They looked so sad...

I woke up at home, in bed, with barely a memory of what happened. It's still slowly coming back to me, but I know we got in trouble for going in there. They got it worse for locking me in though, with the events that had happened to me technically it was attempted murder as they were responsible.

Who knows. Maybe I am imagining things, nothing has changed in my daily life. Yet there's been a nagging feeling, a longing.

I need to go back...

~A