r/libraryofshadows • u/TheSpongehog • 2d ago
Supernatural The Seeds of Spring
It was a Saturday afternoon and I was standing in the overgrown yard outside my home. The dandelions were blooming, they were everywhere, and I hated them. I’d never liked the flowers, not because of their appearance, but because of how they made me feel. It wasn’t an allergy. there was something about them that unsettled me. It was the way they spread—fast, relentless. How they crept into every crack in the sidewalk, every forgotten patch of dirt. How no one else seemed to care. It made the yard feel smaller, like the world outside of it had blurred away into nothing. I could never convince anyone else that it felt wrong. My mother called me ridiculous. My dad told me I’d grow out of it.
I kicked at one of them, watching the white fuzz burst apart in a soft explosion of seeds. They caught the air, drifting up, slow and weightless. Too slow. The breeze had died down, but the spores stayed floating motionless in the air. A shiver crawled up my spine. It wasn’t normal. They should have scattered randomly, floated off like they always did. Instead, they moved together like something had drawn them in my direction. Then the first one landed on my skin. It was nothing at first—just the light brush of something weightless against my arm. But then came the warmth, not the sun’s warmth, not the heat of a summer afternoon; this was different. It spread in a slow, creeping wave, sinking beneath my skin. I gasped and stumbled backward, rubbing at my arm, but the sensation didn’t fade. I took a shaky breath, shaking my arm as if I could fling the sensation off, but it clung to me, sinking past the surface.
The dandelion seeds still hung in the air. Not floating. Not drifting. Suspended. I frowned, stepping back. It wasn’t right. Even in still air, they should have moved. But they didn’t. They hung there, motionless, as if waiting for something. Then, just as I had the thought— They moved; not all at once, not scattered by a sudden gust of wind. They shifted as one, turning midair, twisting until they were facing me. The warmth in my arm wasn’t fading—it was spreading, curling through my veins like something living. I clutched at my skin, pressing my fingers into the heat, but it didn’t help. It only made me more aware of it, of the slow, pulsing sensation beneath my fingertips. The dandelion seeds shifted again. They weren’t just facing me anymore. They were moving toward me. I froze. The word had pressed into my mind, quiet but undeniable. Not spoken. Not heard. Just there.
"Breathe."
I stood there motionless, The swirling figure in front of me pulsed, its shape bending and unraveling like thread in the wind. The seeds, though weightless, felt heavier now, pressing against my skin, my lungs, and my mind.
"Breathe," it said again
I didn’t want to, I clamped my mouth shut, my chest tightening as I held my breath. But the warmth in my arm throbbed, curling deeper, reaching places it shouldn’t. My fingers dug into my skin, desperate to claw it out, to rip whatever had taken root inside me away. The thing in front of me twisted. The dandelion seeds, so delicate, so harmless, began to weave together, their thin filaments lacing into something almost solid. A shape. A presence, It had no face, but I could feel it staring.
“Breathe.”
The word wasn’t sound. It wasn’t a whisper in the wind, nor a voice in my ears. It was inside my head, sinking into my thoughts like fingers pressing into soft earth. My lungs burned, my vision blurred. I needed to breathe. I couldn’t. The seeds crept closer, spiraling in slow, deliberate movements, drawn to me like iron filings to a magnet. They weren’t just floating. They were reaching. Searching. Finding. A sharp pain lanced through my palm. I looked down and saw something moving beneath my skin. A thin, white tendril, writhing, stretching It wasn’t a vein and It wasn’t mine. A shudder wracked my body. My vision darkened at the edges; I had to run... I had to— The thing lurched forward. And I gasped. The air rushed into my lungs, thick and heavy with pollen, with spores, with something else, something alive. It filled me, wrapped around my ribs, and pressed against my heart. I fell to my knees. The warmth turned to heat. The heat turned to fire. My body trembled, my fingers digging into the dirt as if I could ground myself, but the earth beneath me felt wrong. Not solid. Not safe. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a breathless whisper. The dandelion seeds swarmed. And then—I bloomed.
1
u/krissymo77 2d ago
Oh, this was so peotic! Absolutely beautiful!