It's the middle of the night and Muriel is tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep. Not much of a night person usually, lately it seems she's been having trouble staying asleep, ever since her cap was stolen. Tonight, as like many other nights, she climbs out of bed, dressed in her thin green night shirt, and steps out onto the balcony, peering out over the city, lost in thought.
In the night, the sound of drumming can be heard. It's steady, like a march timer. Despite the hour, there's no hesitation to the sound being thrown out in the darkness, and it seems to be coming progressively closer.
Muriel tilts her head as she grips to the railing, peering out into the clear, starry sky. Is that..Drumming? "Mmm, how nice.." she quips aloud, drumming her fingers to the beat, although she continues to peer around in the darkness, searching for the source of the sound. Some late night club perhaps, or fellow performer or busker making their rounds perhaps? Now she is a bit curious as she continues to listen.
The drumming continues to get closer, inexorably so, as it beats in a steady, heavy rhythm. After several minutes of the metronomic beat, another sound cuts through the air, a single, perfectly pitched note that doesn't waver. A calling horn, loud and sharp, without the slightest hesitation to it. From Muriel's perspective, out in the darkness, a flickering of flame could be seen, though it's faint at this moment, and looks almost more blue/white than the classic orange/yellow one might expect from a torch.
Muriel continues to drum her fingers to the beat, certainly one who has an appreciation for all forms of music. However, as the beat gets ever closer, she still has trouble pinpointing the source of the music. "Well well, aren't ye a mysterious one..?" she grins, seeming to enjoy this little game. But when she spies that flicker of blue flame, cool grey eyes narrow a touch, gripping the railing a bit more tightly as she tries to figure out what is causing such an odd colored light.
The sensation of something 'Other' is decidedly there for Muriel as she watches the glowing blue flame come closer. And as it does so, the sound of drumming gets louder. Another call from the horn cuts through the night, an announcement, or commencement, it sounds three times in steady succession. More lights join the burning bluish-white flame, coming in a two by two column toward Muriel's location, lead by a single light at the front. In total, there are 13.
"What the..." she continues to peer at the steadily approaching lights in the darkness, feeling the hairs rise at the back of her neck as she notes the almost military rhythm of their beat, and the way they seem to line up in some sort of formation as they approach her condo. "Kirk...Are you hearing this?!" she calls as she turns towards the interior of her condo. Kirk has been renting out one of her rooms recently, but right now he is either asleep or out as he does not respond. "Well..What the hell.." she laughs and shakes her head, turning back to watch the procession, cool eyes searching now for any sign of human life down below. Certainly there must be some ONE carrying those eerie blue torches?
As Muriel watches the blue and white flames come closer, a few more things make themselves apparent to her. First, the flames are being held by figures. They're not exactly easy to see, and look almost transparent, especially from the distance she's seeing them. As they draw ever forward in her direction, however, she can see them more clearly.
The first figure was the easiest to make out, and looked to be made of long, skeletal fragments that eventually formed limbs, but were also adorned with all manner of Native Hawaiian intricacy, a headdress, armor, a traditional Hawaiian malo (skirted loin-cloth). Around the spectral bones, white, blue, and pale gray swirled and moved, creating the muscular implication of someone easily 6' tall with broad, powerful shoulders and a thick, meaty build.
Behind the leader, the others start to come more into focus, ranging from 5'5" all the way up to 6'5". Each has similar adornment, most of them traditional Hawaiian and refined, though a couple have nothing but the malo around their hips. In the back, the figure holding the drum continues to beat the rhythm of the procession's steps forward while the figure directly next to him blows into a huge conch shell, creating that singular, pure note that cuts through the night.
Muriel holds her breath as she watches the eerie figures, steadily marching towards her condo. Being able to make out their forms more clearly now is little comfort however, as she soon realized that they are not even human. "You have got to be kidding me, aye?!" she laughs hysterically, shaking her head in disbelief. "A procession of ghosts?! What do ye want with me, hmm?" she cranes her neck, raising her voice over the noise, no longer finding the eerie music pleasing in the least.
Whether or not they heard Muriel, the incoming procession didn't stop their march. The sound in the night grew louder as they came much closer indeed, obviously heading straight for her. Once they were about 50 feet out from the balcony she was staring over, a scent wafted up from below, assaulting Muriel's nose. It smelled of ancient decay. Not the scent of fresh death, foul and rotten, but if rich earth that surrounded the old dead, thick and heavy with nutrients stolen from the bodies of those buried in it. The scent of an ancient crypt not left open, but filled in with earth. The leader of he procession looked up at Muriel, eyes a set of bright, burning, blue flames. He lifted his long, powerful, arm and pointed up to her, opening his mouth and letting out a harrowed, echoing sound that vibrated through the night, like a scream, but more a holler of announcement.
Muriel wrinkles her nose at the scent of thick rich earth, but it does nothing to reassure her. Something about these eerie undead reminds her of another recent ghostly encounter, and she narrows her eyes at the creepy sound that the apparent leader makes as he points towards her. "I said, what do ye want of me?!" she repeats, stepping back from the railing and shivering a bit. If this is what she thinks it is, this could be bad.
Having been on the island at least for a little while, Muriel's likely heard of The Night Marchers. The legends say that if you look at them, you will be killed and taken to the land of the dead, or thrown from a cliff if proven unworthy, unless another Marcher is your ancestor and will speak up for you. And so, as Muriel watched the procession draw closer, she now knows they're the venerated spirits of the most valued, dead, Hawaiian Warriors. They are Hawaii's Heroes, and it's a true honor for them to gather your spirit after death to take you to the next realm of existence.
Muriel is, decidedly, looking at them. And they've definitely noticed. As they passed under the vantage point, all 13 of them seemed to be coming directly into Muriel's building. All of the walls vibrated with the sounds of the drum being struck. And it seemed that every floor the procession came up, the sound of the horn came, steadily closer as they climbed through the levels of the condominium building.
Muriel blinks slowly, pulling her gaze away from the sight as realization and horror sets in..A moment too late. "Oh, ye have got to be kidding me!" she snarls, spinning on her heels as she realizes that they're coming for her. But she's not dead, and she certainly has no Hawaiian ancestors here. "Then you leave me no choice." she narrows her eyes, stepping back inside and she heads out of her condo and towards the exit (Preferably the second stair well that the procession is not using) trying to make as much space between herself and the noise as she can. She moves quickly, fueled perhaps by adrenaline more than anything.
The particular horror of a ghostly procession coming straight for you is a poignant one, of course. Bridging the gap between horrible and mystifying, one of those things most people would pray to avoid, or sacrifice to suspend. Why? Because Ghosts defy physics. Ghosts defy most everything about the natural world.
The staircase that Muriel enters in her attempt to flee the approaching Warriors echoes loudly with the sound of the drum coming from within the staircase on the opposite side of the building. Nearby, the sounds of children crying can be heard as their awoken by the noise, but no adults begin screaming, and being in the stairwell it's impossible to know if anyone else has come out to investigate.
The sounds in the stairwell with Muriel get louder, however, and sound like they're coming from directly above her, one floor higher, the drum beating as if the rear line of the incoming Night Marchers had appeared on the landing just after she'd passed by. As Muriel makes her way out through the door at the bottom floor of the condominium building, a single Night Marcher stands there, waiting for her. It's the one that had been at the lead of the marching progression toward her in the first place. Holding his arm directly out ahead of him, palm facing Muriel, he calls out loudly in Hawaiian, "E OKI!" with a voice that held enough presence and gravity to have cracked a floor.
Muriel breathes a sigh of relief as it seems that she avoided most of the creepy ghosties. However, not all of them apparently. She screeches to a halt as the creepy warrior leader ghost guy stands before her, glowering at him. "Look, I'm not dead, so ye can't drag me to hell with ye!" Still she doesn't attempt to attack him or push him aside..Yet. May as well. see if he will listen to reason.
The Night Marcher facing Muriel tilted its head to the side, the misty, moving bands of blue, white, and pale gray moved and formed over it again, reshaping its body constantly, around the support structure of its spectral bones. Opening it's mouth, the words flowed from it with a dire sort of importance, "Ua'ike'ia kou huhu, wahine."
Muriel glares at the Night Marcher, arms folded loosely as she tries to discern what he is trying to say. "Look, I don't speak Hawaiian ok? If ye have something to say, say it in English, please." She frowns, "This is not my world, I know next to nothing about ye Night Marchers.
As Muriel watches, the other Night Marchers slowly file into the room, the sound horrendous and hollow as the drum reverberates off of the walls and shakes the floor enough that the building feels like it's in a localized earthquake. Then, all noise stopped.
The eerie silence of the 13 Night Marchers was at odd juxtaposition with the constant movement of the shadowy colors and mist that made up the physicality of their bodies over their spectral skeletons. The Lead Warrior stared at Muriel for a protracted amount of time, eyes burning with glowing, blue flame that caused vapors to rise up over its headdress.
"You, with the tongue of the Haole, have been given an opportunity to educate yourself. You will be taught, tonight, the cost for your trespass so far. And you have until the next full moon to learn the mistake of your ways, or your death will be written by your own hand. Do you understand, woman?" The voice was obviously not accustomed to speaking in English, and it was hard on it, or at least distasteful.
Muriel peers upwards, shivering at the eerie sight and sound of so many Night Marchers in her room up above. Teeth gritted, hands clenched, she really has to try hard to hold her tongue from lashing out at them for invading her private space. She looks back to the leader, drawing a deep breath. Probably not wise right now to try to charm her way out of the situation. "Ohh, I get it. This has to do with me pulling the lei from the stream and putting it on Kirk, and...All that..." she trails off, realizing the gravity of the situation and that cocky smirk immediately is wiped off her lips. Hey, they're giving her a chance at least. She draws another deep breath, bowing her head with a soft sigh. Hawaii sure is a strange place. "Aye..I understand. What will ye have me do?"
"Tonight, you will suffer for your insolence. And while you recover, you will at least learn to respect. The Keeper of the Dead has instructed us to not simply kill you for your trespasses, but to give you the chance to learn the abrasive error of your ways. Or you would be dead already on this night." The lead Marcher moved his hand in a slashing motion, as if he was agitated, extremely. "There will be no second chance given."
As they all stood down in the lobby of the Condominium, the Marcher in the back with the huge conch shell blew through it again, sending an ear piercing note out into the world, filling it with the sharp sound and making the entire building echo.
Muriel arches a brow. "Suffer..? What do ye plan to do with me, hmm..?" She turns around then, peering into the lobby, shuddering at the ear-piercing note, uncertain of what it may mean for her.
The Lead Warrior looked at Muriel, watching her, eyes flaming with malice for a moment before the horn stopped being blown. Then, when all was silent again for a blissful moment, he opened his mouth and the word "Pain." left him with a quiet sort of burn to it. "But not death." The rest of the Marchers stood still, watching, waiting, silent. Their attention was on Muriel as well, though none of them had moved to speak, and their countenance was almost neutral, as if they were simply marking time while they waited to continue their march.
Muriel frowns at that word - pain- not a familiar word in the vocabulary of one used to a comfortable, pampered life. Still, she is proud, not about to beg for mercy. "Well then.." she casually tosses a ginger curl over her shoulder, over confident, not sure what to expect. "Get it over with, then.." perhaps it's just a ruse, they're trying to scare her into submission. One can always hope, right?
The lead Marcher moved toward Muriel, arms outstretched to take hold of her, and when the redhead dodged back out of the way, he stopped, and just stared. "Are you breaking the agreement, woman? So soon?" The other Night Marchers simply waited, as the lead Warrior clenched his fists, the murky, white/blue vapor moving around him and looking almost solid for a moment.
Muriel's eyes widen I surprise as he makes a grab for her, and she instinctively steps out of the way before realizing what he is trying to do. "What are ye doing?" her frown deepens, shaking her head. "No..." she sighs, "Ye just surprised me is all. But if this is the way it must be..." well as long as they don't kill her. But there are things worse than death too. She draws a deep breath, holding out her arms in surrender. "Then do what ye must, I suppose." and that's when she realizes they are dead serious. No pun intended.
This time, when the lead marcher moved forward, he simply grabbed Muriel around the waist and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. And then, the procession started. His arm remained around her legs, holding like steel, as they marched for what likely seemed hours. They left the condo, moved through Honolulu, and notably any people they passed by were laying face down, on the ground, naked.
Perhaps it was because Muriel was being held in a fireman's carry, bounced around while the Marchers moved, or maybe just not having the best night could have all fed into why she may not know where they were headed. But, eventually the Night Marchers stopped moving. The drum stopped, the horn stopped pitching its cry every so often. The sound of the waves crashing into the beach could be heard, and wind could be felt whipping through the air.
Once these things were noticed, it's highly likely that Muriel could tell they were standing on a bluff, the cliff over the ocean below. "You will survive. But be harmed." The large, Hawaiian Warrior holding Muriel over his shoulder spoke finally after such a long time, having not uttered a single word to the woman while they walked.
Perhaps it was simply exhaustion that made her cease to fight her captors as they grab her and hurl her over one shoulder, walking for far too long in a procession down to the..."Oh no..." she gasps, eyes widened in fear and realization as they stand overlooking the ocean. If she had her cap and could become a Merrow, it might not hurt so much. But as it is...This could hurt.."You're kidding me..." she moans in disbelief. Well at least she us a good swimmer, whatever comfort that might give her.
The Warrior carrying Muriel adjusted how he was holding her, lifting up harshly with his shoulder so she was upright for a moment, then he hefted her and tipped her to the side at the same time. The result was that Muriel was lifted up over his head, like he was power lifting her. "Commence to the deep, insolent haole, and learn." And with that, The Night Marcher simply threw Muriel off the cliff.
The sound of the conch shell could be heard, along with the drumming starting back up, even as Muriel fell through the empty air down, down, down to the water. Falling through the darkness for a clean 60 feet, Muriel struck into the water hard, but luckily was able to mitigate most of the impact of the fall by positioning her body almost right to handle it. Still, the soft tissues of her abdomen were not prepared for the strike against her frame when the water claimed her out of the sky.
Oh hell. This is gonna hurt, isn't it? She laughs hysterically as she is hurled from the cliff's edge, but fortunately she is no stranger to diving and swimming. Of course she has never been hurled with such force into the waters unprepared. Still, Muri manages to orient her body as shrieks defensively, moving too fast for a clean dive into the water and ends up belly flopping violently, hitting the water hard enough that she utters a pained cry. Fortunately there are no broken bones suffered, but her stomach seems heavily bruised and likely she has suffered some internal damage as well, as she struggles out of the water, dragging herself to the nearby shore and just lays still for several long minutes. But hey, it could have been worse. She could be dead after all..
As Muriel lay on the beach, the sound of drums grew fainter. Until the night was silent all save for the crashing waves hitting the shore. It would appear she'd been left to her own devices to find her way home this night, as the processional ride to the cliff was a one way trip.
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