Chernabog
They Look Like Monsters to You?
♔ Champion ♔
- Local time
- Today 2:53 PM
- Messages
- 880
- Pronouns
- they/he
No one knew what caused Mallory's change in his luck status. Hell, even his name seemed to be an omen from his birth on a Friday the 13th; unlucky through and through. If there was a rain cloud, it would find him. If lightning were to strike anyone out in the middle of a field, it would be him. Twice.
It was an oppressive force for him, one so bad that he had a hard time keeping friends; either because they were superstitious that it would rub off on them, or the fact that it was exhausting being around the calamity that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
But one day, things turned around for the man. It was such a massive change that it was almost startling to bare witness to. Yet, the beginnings were just the fact that he seemed to have normal, neutral days like anyone else.
First it was the fact that Mallory could go a full day, then full weeks, without tripping and falling and causing a chaotic chain of events that seemed like it could only happen in the movies. No one around him got hurt, but moreso, he himself went unharmed. He didn't accidentally drop his wallet in the perfect-sized hole in a grate that would be the fourth such incident over six months. He didn't end up in the perfect area to be splashed by a car turning a bit too hard in a puddle. A bird didn't come swooping to grab the sandwich he had been looking forward to all day. Things were finally starting to even out for him, and even looking up.
"What's your secret?" Everyone would ask.
"I found a lucky Clover!" Mallory would say with a grin, making everyone laugh.
But after a few months, things went from neutral to subtly lucky. He won the first raffle of his entire life. He got a bonus at work. He threw a wad of paper and actually landed in a bin. It was an immense relief, one that he never knew he was missing until now.
Things only escalated, however. Mallory went from little bouts of luck to fortune that started to gain far more attention. Constantly winning any small contests he went into. Until he tried his hand at scratch-off lotteries and won the top prize every time. He won every round of every game he tried. No matter what he did, he never failed. Always won.
"Damn, seriously dude, what's your secret?!" Everyone would ask again.
"My lucky Clover, remember?" He stated with a smile, but over time, his happiness of the source of his luck faltered.
Soon, Mallory didn't even have to work anymore. He won a major lottery and was set for life. At first he used his winnings, both in money and in competitions, to spoil himself, then his family and friends. But further over time he realized that his fortune was so prevalent that he got everything he ever wanted, all the time. Nothing was competition anymore. Nothing enthused him anymore. There was no challenge for him, ever.
That happiness turned to bitterness, and soon, ultimately, resentment.
"Fucking Clover!" He cursed, alarming those around him who often exchanged questioning glances.
"Well if it is indeed a lucky clover, then why don't you just get rid of it?"
"I can't. You wouldn't understand."
And that was the end of the conversation before Mallory stormed off.
So miserable Mallory became of everything going his way, everything he ever wanted falling in his lap without even needing to try, that the resentment made him unwell. Unwell to the level where one day, he couldn't stand it anymore and had to set up an elaborate series of events to ensure that his life would end. It was not something that could easily be done due to his newfound fortune. Every time he tried, luck would get in the way and he would survive. But eventually, it happened.
The police were called to the man's house after neighbors reported the noises that came from it. Mallory was found dead, but more shockingly, someone else was found in the home as well.
In a barren room, a small, weakened woman was found shackled and chained to one of the walls. Her hair was an explosion of pumpkin-orange curls, though in poor condition from her situation. But more strikingly; she had bright, piercing green eyes that almost didn't seem human. She was kept in squalor, but didn't fear the people that found her, looking almost relieved.
"Can you talk? What's your name, Miss?" A man asked as the others went to work in trying to free her.
Lifting her head to allow their eyes to meet, she managed to smile.
..."Clover."
It was an oppressive force for him, one so bad that he had a hard time keeping friends; either because they were superstitious that it would rub off on them, or the fact that it was exhausting being around the calamity that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
But one day, things turned around for the man. It was such a massive change that it was almost startling to bare witness to. Yet, the beginnings were just the fact that he seemed to have normal, neutral days like anyone else.
First it was the fact that Mallory could go a full day, then full weeks, without tripping and falling and causing a chaotic chain of events that seemed like it could only happen in the movies. No one around him got hurt, but moreso, he himself went unharmed. He didn't accidentally drop his wallet in the perfect-sized hole in a grate that would be the fourth such incident over six months. He didn't end up in the perfect area to be splashed by a car turning a bit too hard in a puddle. A bird didn't come swooping to grab the sandwich he had been looking forward to all day. Things were finally starting to even out for him, and even looking up.
"What's your secret?" Everyone would ask.
"I found a lucky Clover!" Mallory would say with a grin, making everyone laugh.
But after a few months, things went from neutral to subtly lucky. He won the first raffle of his entire life. He got a bonus at work. He threw a wad of paper and actually landed in a bin. It was an immense relief, one that he never knew he was missing until now.
Things only escalated, however. Mallory went from little bouts of luck to fortune that started to gain far more attention. Constantly winning any small contests he went into. Until he tried his hand at scratch-off lotteries and won the top prize every time. He won every round of every game he tried. No matter what he did, he never failed. Always won.
"Damn, seriously dude, what's your secret?!" Everyone would ask again.
"My lucky Clover, remember?" He stated with a smile, but over time, his happiness of the source of his luck faltered.
Soon, Mallory didn't even have to work anymore. He won a major lottery and was set for life. At first he used his winnings, both in money and in competitions, to spoil himself, then his family and friends. But further over time he realized that his fortune was so prevalent that he got everything he ever wanted, all the time. Nothing was competition anymore. Nothing enthused him anymore. There was no challenge for him, ever.
That happiness turned to bitterness, and soon, ultimately, resentment.
"Fucking Clover!" He cursed, alarming those around him who often exchanged questioning glances.
"Well if it is indeed a lucky clover, then why don't you just get rid of it?"
"I can't. You wouldn't understand."
And that was the end of the conversation before Mallory stormed off.
So miserable Mallory became of everything going his way, everything he ever wanted falling in his lap without even needing to try, that the resentment made him unwell. Unwell to the level where one day, he couldn't stand it anymore and had to set up an elaborate series of events to ensure that his life would end. It was not something that could easily be done due to his newfound fortune. Every time he tried, luck would get in the way and he would survive. But eventually, it happened.
The police were called to the man's house after neighbors reported the noises that came from it. Mallory was found dead, but more shockingly, someone else was found in the home as well.
In a barren room, a small, weakened woman was found shackled and chained to one of the walls. Her hair was an explosion of pumpkin-orange curls, though in poor condition from her situation. But more strikingly; she had bright, piercing green eyes that almost didn't seem human. She was kept in squalor, but didn't fear the people that found her, looking almost relieved.
"Can you talk? What's your name, Miss?" A man asked as the others went to work in trying to free her.
Lifting her head to allow their eyes to meet, she managed to smile.
..."Clover."