The Lost LIttle Rabbit Girl by Mick Sylvestre

Author:Mick Sylvestre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Death theme, Dark Fiction, Resurrection, Good vs Evil, Morality
Publisher: Mick Sylvestre
Published: 2022-07-18T00:00:00+00:00

She held the necklace in her hands. Her hands changed, just a little, back into human hands. She felt the hemp cord that bound the rough uncut, unpolished diamonds that varied in color and shape. She felt the souls of those gone nestled deep within the gemstones. Their voices spoke to her in unison; they welcomed and comforted her. So much that she felt tears streaming down her furry little cheeks, as they dripped on the diamonds and soaked deep into the hemp cords that bind them. To her surprise the diamonds began to glow, so bright that even she had to turn her head away.

Her hands felt the heat coming off the necklace, but she dared not to let go. Not now. Not after all this trouble with the humans and their misfortunate transformations; despite all of her misgivings and her warnings. The heat from the necklace grew hotter and hotter. The light burned brighter than the moon. Even brighter than the fiery sunlight that makes it through the forest canopy in the best of days. Tokki’s little hands smoldered, but they did not burst into flames. She screamed and cried out in pain, but she did not, dared not—to let go.

The two monsters squealed as they cowered in the exposed light. Their skin flaked and flayed off like blown sand. Their beady little pupils burned like tiny lit candle wicks. Their skulls crackled and shattered into dust like crushed porcelain vases. The firm flesh that clung to their bones became flumes of smoke. Both of the creatures were spawned in darkness, and so the light that came from Tokki’s little necklace had burned them to ashes.

As the light died down, Tokki crumpled to the ground panting in pain. Her hands were red from the burns, but she would heal. She knew the right plants to milk to soothe the wounds on her hands. Her parents (now long gone) had taught her well. She let the necklace slip from her grasp, and she squatted down beside it. Too tired to cry or protest, she just silently sat looking at the hands. There would be some scarring, but nothing she didn’t already have. They were just fresh wounds on top of old ones. To Tokki it was nothing new. She could hear her own heart thumping so loudly in her ears, and she was distracted by the sound of bubbles surfacing from within the mystic pond.

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