HAUNTED GARDEN: West Gate {5/5}

“Woah.” Walter was amazed over the amount and size of the candy in Maxwell's hat. And how did he manage to balance it all on his head? Sometimes the man still puzzled him.

The proposal of a race was greeted with a resounding “YES!”, some mint drops falling out of the little pumpkin basket he was holding on to as he threw his arms up, followed by a rapid “3,2,1 GO!” and a mad dash towards the maze where veered down the right hand path like a bullet train. He had no intention of getting caught behind the others that had gone into the maze, ending up dawdling behind them because he was sure they weren't in a hurry to go anywhere. It wouldn't be fair seeing Maxwell was faster than him by default.

Stanley, Sienna, Owen, Maxwell:
As the small group (of three, followed by one Maxwell) ventured further into the maze, they came to a second fork.

The left fork had hedges full of blooming, red roses, although some of their thorned branches were sticking dangerously out of place, such that a careless rush through this path would easily result in a few thorn-caused scratches and abrasions on one's face. Still, the fragrance of roses was lovely and bewitching, and certainly quite pleasing to the eye.

The right fork was far plainer. There were no flowers here, only green hedges, with a few browning leaves. The hedge on this path is well-kept, pruned, and...seemingly perfect. Especially for someone with OCD. There also seems to be a faint glow of light coming from the end of the path, round a corner... What could it be...? A fellow maze-goer, wandering through the maze in search of something as well?

Which path will the group take? Should they choose to split up? ...or should they stick together for safety? After all, you never quite know who, or what, is hiding in wait within the deep, dark unknown of the maze ahead...

---

As for Walter... 

The boy had chosen the right fork as opposed to the left fork. The right fork ends up as an almost straight path, though Walter would come to realise that there was an opening on the right, after he had walked some distance down the near-straight path... Would Walter chose to continue straight, or take a right turn into a path shrouded with shadows but also beautifully adorned with streaks of shifting moonlight?

"No no no, it's fine, I--GAH;;;;" Stanley jumped back when Owen made his appearance. Where in the world did the boy come from? Honestly, the eyebags he had, the scarecrow costume and the damned lighting did little to make Owen's blank expression any easier to look at.

'Slice him, sKIn hI m, GUT HIM,' shrieked the voice in his head almost reflexively as the taller man put a hand over his chest, "Good god..." he muttered as he attempted to still his heart. Clearing his throat, Stanley managed to regain his composure as he eyed the other male,

"Please don't do that again..." it was a foolish thing to say, considering the time of the year it was. Giving Owen a quick once over, he did reach forwards to straighten the boy's shirt (and hat if he wore one), mindful of his crow friend before nodding in approval and patting Owen's cheek lightly, "N...Nice costume." He commented lamely.

Sighing, Stanley looked at his company. Both were threadless. Neither were Hunters that he knew, if they were Hunters... The girl had responded negatively to when he mentioned Hunters earlier on, so she could only be an Apprentice. The boy... well. He'll leave that till later...

"Are you both friends?" he asked lightly, though he was a bit bothered by the sounds of another person approaching, goodness it was going to annoy Stanley to no end if he had to travel with three Apprentices and constantly tell himself to not skin them on sight. If the person approaching was a Hunter he knew, that would be great. ...But then he only knew two or three by name. Chances were slim.

Regardless of their answer, Stanley began to walk off, humming in acknowledgement of their answers while his attention was caught by the pristine right path, immaculately pruned and well-lit. It was gorgeous... Pity there weren't any flowers, those would have given the path its much-needed eye candy.

The other path had a kind of atmosphere that reminded him of the basement he lived in. And the sight of rather unpruned hedges made him want to pull his spade out and make quick work of the hedges. The roses that decorated them were beautiful though, and he intended on taking a closer look.

Turning to look at the two behind him, Stanley rubbed his chin, "Say, Halloween is coming soon... travelling in a large group won't do if you were here for a bit of a scare. What say we split up? I can hear someone approaching, and there are two paths up ahead... Let's try and find each other at some point in the maze."

With a small laugh, Stanley started down the left path. Yes, it was darker and it grated on his nerves to see how unkempt it was, but he couldn't help but hum under his breath,

"Painting the roses red
We're painting the roses red
We dare not stop or waste a drop
So let the paint be spread~"

He didn't expect to startle the man. Nor did he expect him to try and touch him. He only wanted to fix his clothes, it seemed, but they were strangers. Did he really think he was that messy? Owen grew concerned at that, and a little bit more when the man touched his face. He flinched and took a cautionary step back. He'd been more wary of people trying to come into contact with him since the incident further inside the city a little while ago. Especially when out in the real world.

"Th-Thank you." was all he said in reply, face blank, unwilling to show any of his own emotions. Owen was going to reply and speak further but it seemed like the man didn't care about the response. The boy held in a small 'tch' under his breath. Why ask if you weren't going to pay attention anyway. "We are friends." he said in the end. "Are you friends?" Glancing over at Sienna, she was terrified - though she seemed terrified at everything, so he couldn't tell. Perhaps a total stranger, or someone she had bad blood with. He wouldn't have a clue.

The man mentioned something about coming here for a scare. Owen wasn't really sure why he was here, actually. He just came because he had nothing to do. Halloween failed to scare him every year. Nothing fazed him, so it wasn't like he was doing this for fun. It was just idle activity for an idle mind.

At the fork (after narrowly avoiding Maxwell's rush past, aside from a loud squawking fit from the crow, visibly angry), Owen looked by both of his options. The crow on his shoulder seemed to prefer the light at the end of the right side, and though the scent of roses was lovely, Owen had to follow the bird. It would do no good to have an angry crow on his shoulder for the rest of the evening, would it? Bribing it with the shiny coin seemed to have no effect now. As it cawed towards the light, the scarecrow took the lead and stepped forth towards it.

His humming was interrupted when Maxwell ran right past him, earning the multicolored Hatter a yelp out of the undertaker when he barrelled past like a blue hedgehog on steroids. Grumbling under his breath, Stanley adjusted his hat as he looked over his shoulder.

He'd already rounded a corner or two, carefully making sure his coat didnt get snagged in the thorny bushes' grasp, and to his surprise, nobody had followed after him. To be honest, it was partially a relief. The others he was with didn't seem too keen on conversing either, the girl looking just as jittery as he was while the boy looked like he'd much prefer the company of his crow friend.

Sighing, Stanley continued down the maze, letting out a small chuckle as another chilly breeze blew past him. He wondered if the chill was just the wind or if it was something else. A rose stuck out of one of the bushes, making Stanley stop for a moment.

How pretty.

Taking his spade out of his coat, he cut the rose's stalk at a satisfactory length, cutting the thorns off as he tucked it in the breast pocket of his coat. Surely he'd have an empty mason jar to keep the rose in when he gets home later... He had to pause when something fluttered in front of him, resting on the bushes a few paces away from him.

Initially, he thought it might have been a butterfly, or a moth. Upon closer inspection, Stanley took the ribbon in his hand, tugged it free of the thorns and brought it up to whatever light was there. He squinted. The cloth would have been a pretty, pristine white, but it was stained with something... Could it be...

"...Blood...?"

STANLEY:

Upon closer inspection, it could be observed that the “ribbons” that had been trailing in the breeze were made of gauze… The very same kind used to make medical bandages. With Stanley's basic medical knowledge, he would probably be able to tell that. They were tinged with flecks of blood. If Stanley were to observe closer, he would find that the blood left on them was indeed quite fresh…

Who could these have belonged to? ...perhaps in time he'd find out. 

---

OWEN:

Round the bend that Owen chose to head towards, a young, dark-haired woman was hunched over a small pile of flickering embers. Upon seeing Owen, she cries out to him, “Child! Stay back, ya hear?” She seems to be trying to extinguish the flames. A fallen lantern lays beside the said flames, and she is flapping her jacket wildly at the flames in an attempt to extinguish them. It….seems to be doing the exact opposite though.

Upon closer inspection, you can see a silvery-white thread whirling around her… Guess some humans do manage to find their way here, too, somehow.

OWEN:

“Nonsense!” The woman looked almost offended by your words as she continued to flap her jacket energetically at the small fire. “I…must…put…this…OUT!” She bellowed, finally throwing her jacket over the flames and stomping mercilessly on them. This…actually seems to do the trick. After more noisy stomping and useless flailing, the fire finally goes out. She heaved a heavy sigh of relief. “Sorry ya had ta see that…” She added sheepishly, scratching her head and picking up the extinguished lantern. “You…got a light? It’s mighty dark up ahead, boy…” She studied you for awhile with raised brows. “…or do ya have night vision, or somethin’? I’m not sure what…your kind has the ability ta do, sometimes…”