Mist and Shadows in The Swamp of Death

🌸{A Pink Necromancer Kishōtenketsu} 🦄🌸

The swamp lay shrouded in thick mist, the air heavy with the scent of decay and ancient secrets. Gnarled trees twisted their way out of the murky waters, their roots forming grotesque shapes that seemed to reach out for any who dared to pass by. The full moon hung low in the sky, its pale light casting an eerie glow over the scene. The twisted forms of ancient creatures moved silently beneath the surface, their presence felt more than seen.

Quaraun, BoomFuzzy, and GhoulSpawn navigated through the swamp, their breaths visible in the cold air.

Quaraun, draped in his resplendent pink silk robes, led the way, his cane tapping softly on the spongy ground.

BoomFuzzy, his blind eyes clouded, held tightly to Quaraun’s arm, while GhoulSpawn, towering and bulky, followed closely, his cloven hooves sinking into the wet earth.

The Lich King, BoomFuzzy, King Gwallmaiic, was weakened, as he often was. His Lichly powers waning as they often did.

“Why have you become so weak?” GhoulSpawn asked. “I thought Liches were all powerful.”

“Nay.” BoomFuzzy shook his head, his dreadlocks bouncing as he did. “I am immortal. Kill me and I come back. Over and over again. But I still get sick. Injured. Wounded. Just like I were alive. I die. And I come back. I do no get younger. I were an old man when I died. I come back an old man. I age. I grow old. And I die again. I die. Wait a day or two or three, and I alive again. That the reality of being a Lich. It ain’t like that tuttie-fruitie dumb ass fantasy you read in your novels.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Fantasy novel,” GhoulSpawn stated.

“I did not say there was!” BoomFuzzy retorted. “I just saying, ain’t none of them authors ever met a real Lich. They make us out to be all powerful mages who spent centuries turning ourselves into Liches with dark magic. And that ain’t how it works. Being a Lich is how the jackass powers that be, get their fucking jollies off punishing people who commit suicide, by forcing us to keep coming back alive and reliving the shitty lives we killed ourselves to get away from. I was sick when I died. I come back to life sick again. I killed myself to get rid of the fucking pain, and keep coming back to life, to live through the damned pain again!”

“I’m sorry.” GhoulSpawn didn’t know what else to say.

Quaraun patted GhoulSpawn on the shoulder.

“He’s not mad at you,” Quaraun said. “He had a belly wound. It got infected. He was dying. Suffering in agony. He lingered for weeks. There wasn’t a cure. I left him alone. I was coming back. I should have been gone only a few hours. Evil people, did evil things. I was trapped. For weeks. He was alone too long. He didn’t have anyone to take care of him. He didn’t want to suffer alone anymore. I resurrected him. I didn’t know what it would do to him. I was trying to help him.”

Quaraun stopped walking.

“You are weak?” he asked BoomFuzzy.

“Aye,” BoomFuzzy answered. “I near the end of the cycle again.”

“What cycle?” GhoulSpawn asked. “Quaraun, what’s he talking about? What’s going on?”

“The souls I collect,” Quaraun explained. “I put them in Unicorn. It keeps him young. Healthy. If I stop, he starts aging again. His health fails. It used to be he could go years between needing new souls. He needs more souls, more often now.”

“Is he gonna… die?”

“Yes. He always does. We try to be in a place… where we can be isolated for a few days. So no one buries him. Or worse. Burns him.”

“You… you have to watch him die?”

“Yes. I stay with him. Every time. He dies. And I keep his body safe, until he comes back.”

“How often does this happen?”

“A few times a year.”

“A few… every year?”

“Every year. For three hundred years. I didn’t used to be a necromancer. I became one after he died. I want to end this nightmare of undeath he lives through. There has to be a way to help him. To end his eternity of suffering. We have to find a safe place to set up camp soon. He’s vulnerable until it happens.”

As they ventured deeper into the swamp, the mist thickened, and the temperature dropped.

The full moon’s glow illuminated the twisted forms of ancient creatures lurking beneath the surface.

BoomFuzzy shuddered, trembling as he sensed the malevolent entities surrounding them.

A sudden movement in the water caught GhoulSpawn’s eye, and he gasped, his yellow eyes wide with terror.

“Quaraun… I … I… think we should leave this place. There’s something… something not… not right here,” he stuttered, his voice shaking.

Before Quaraun could respond, the water around BoomFuzzy rippled violently.

Under the eerie glow of a full moon, the ancient swamp stirred with a sinister life of its own. Thick, ghostly fog clung to the twisted trees and hung low over the murky waters, muffling the sounds of the night. From the depths of the mud, gnarled claws emerged, breaking the surface with a sickening squelch. These creatures, remnants of a forgotten age, dragged themselves upward, their bodies slick with muck and decay.

Spectral hands, cold and clammy, emerged from the depths, latching onto BoomFuzzy with a relentless grip. They pulled at him, their ghostly voices whispering.

“You do not belong among the living,” they said. “Come back to the land of the dead. You are not one of them.”

“The Swamp of Death,” Quaraun gasped. “How did we walk into it without seeing it?” Panic seized him. BoomFuzzy’s soul had been trapped here before. It had not been easy to break him free. They wanted him back. No soul escaped the Swamp of Death.

Their eyes, glowing with an otherworldly light, pierced through the fog as they surveyed their surroundings.

“You belong with us,” the lost souls cried, as they clutched BoomFuzzy’s ankles.

Each movement was deliberate, a slow and painful crawl as they pulled their grotesque forms free from the swamp’s grasp.

“Come!”

The air was thick with the stench of rot and the whispers of ancient curses, as if the very land mourned their return.

The swamp was alive with an unsettling croaks and whispers as the full moon cast its ghostly light over the landscape. The fog swirled thickly, obscuring the path ahead, when suddenly, a blood-curdling scream shattered the stillness.

GhoulSpawn, paralyzed with terror, could only watch as the scene unfolded.

These spectral beings, with their elongated limbs and twisted features, seemed to blend with the shadows, becoming one with the night. As they gathered at the water’s edge, the full moon cast an unholy light upon them, revealing the true horror of their existence.

They were the guardians of the swamp, bound to its dark heart, and on this night, they had risen once more to reclaim their domain.

BoomFuzzy’s face twisted in fear, his strength waning as the spirits tried to drag him into the swamp’s depths.

“Quaraun! Help me!” he cried, his voice filled with desperation.

From the murky depths, the ancient swamp creatures had emerged, their gnarled claws sinking into the flesh of the unfortunate traveller. His eyes wide with terror, he thrashed and screamed; the sound echoing through the night. The mud clung to him, pulling him down with a relentless grip, as if the swamp itself had come alive to claim him.

GhoulSpawn stood paralyzed, eyes locked on the horrific scene, unable to move or even cry out.

Quaraun sprang into action. His heart pounded in his chest as he lunged forward, the cane swinging wildly. The wood cracked against the creatures’ slick, decaying bodies with a sickening thud, but they did not relent.

“Hold on!” Quaraun shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation.

He grabbed BoomFuzzy’s arm, pulling with all his might, but the swamp creatures were stronger. The mud bubbled and gurgled, sucking BoomFuzzy deeper with each passing second. Quaraun’s cane struck again and again, the sound of wood against bone echoing through the fog.

Quaraun’s blue eyes blazed with fury as he took in the sight of his beloved husband being dragged away.

“How dare you try to take him from me!” he roared, his voice echoing through the swamp.

He raised his cane; the moonlight reflecting off the gold-plated prosthetic gloves that encased his hands.

BoomFuzzy’s screams grew more frantic, his eyes pleading for help as the mud rose to his chest, then his neck.

The old Moon Elf gritted his teeth, his muscles straining, but it was no use. The swamp creatures, with their glowing eyes and twisted forms, were relentless. With one final, heart-wrenching scream, the swamp creatures pulled BoomFuzzy under the mud, swallowing him whole.

“No!” Quaraun wailed.

The old Moon Elf fell to his knees, his cane slipping from his grasp as he stared at the spot where BoomFuzzy had disappeared. The swamp was silent once more, the fog closing in around them as if nothing had happened. The only sound was Quaraun’s ragged breathing and the distant croak of a frog, a haunting reminder of the night’s horrors.

With a swift, desperate motion, Quaraun unleashed his necromantic power, the air crackling with dark energy. The spirits recoiled, their ghostly forms trembling under the force of his wrath. Quaraun’s presence grew more terrifying, his power radiating through the misty air.

The old Moon Elf, his eyes now glowing with an unearthly light, stood tall amidst the swirling fog. With a swift motion, he unleashed his necromantic power; the air crackling with dark energy. The spirits of the swamp recoiled, their ghostly forms trembling under the force of his wrath. His presence grew more terrifying, his power radiating through the misty air like a dark beacon.

He raised his cane, now a conduit for his formidable magic, and chanted ancient incantations. The ground beneath him shuddered as dead logs and twisted roots stirred.

With a guttural roar, the necromancer summoned these remnants of the swamp, dead logs floating in the muck, transforming them into monstrous undead trees. Their branches twisted and gnarled, lashing out at the swamp creatures with a vengeance.

The swamp creatures, once bold in their pursuit, now cowered before Quaraun’s might. His voice, laced with dark magic, commanded them to release BoomFuzzy.

“You shall not take him. He is mine,” Quaraun declared, his tone brooking no argument.

The creatures, caught off guard, screeched in fury as the Necromancer’s undead trees struck them down, their limbs snapping like brittle bones.

The necromancer’s power surged, the air thick with the scent of decay and the sound of splintering wood. The trees moved with a life of their own, their roots tearing through the mud to ensnare the swamp creatures, holding them at bay.

Seizing the moment, Quaraun lunged forward, his cane now a weapon of dark magic. He grabbed BoomFuzzy’s arm, pulling with all his might. The mud resisted, but the necromancer’s determination was relentless.

GhoulSpawn, his initial terror now replaced by a surge of conviction, sprang into action. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaped forward, his hands reaching out to grasp the mud-covered Lich.

The Necromancer, still radiating dark energy, nodded in approval, his focus unwavering.

Together, they pulled with all their might; the living mud resisting their efforts. The swamp creatures, still held at bay by The Pink Necromancer’s undead trees, screeched in frustration.

The air thick with the sounds of battle — the crack of branches, the hiss of dark magic, and the desperate grunts of the two friends as they fought to save their companion.

With a final, desperate heave, they dragged BoomFuzzy free from the swamp’s grasp.

The spectral hands loosened their grip, retreating into the murky depths from whence they came.

With a final, mighty heave, they dragged BoomFuzzy free from the swamp’s grasp. He collapsed onto solid ground, gasping for breath, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear.

GhoulSpawn, still shaking, moved to help steady him. 

BoomFuzzy collapsed into Quaraun’s arms, trembling and weak, but safe.

BoomFuzzy’s body covered in mud, his breathing shallow, but he was alive. The necromancer’s undead minions continued to battle the swamp creatures, their eerie forms illuminated by the ghostly moonlight. The old man, his power still crackling around him, stood protectively over BoomFuzzy, ready to face whatever horrors the swamp might unleash next.

The three friends, covered in mud and sweat, huddled together, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The fog swirled around them, but for a moment, they felt a sense of safety. They clung to each other, their hearts pounding in unison, grateful to have escaped the swamp’s deadly clutches.

The necromancer’s power waned, the undead trees slowly returning to their lifeless state, but the immediate danger had passed.

The full moon’s light bathed the swamp in an otherworldly glow as Quaraun glared into the darkness, ensuring no creature dared challenge him again. The mist lifted, and the oppressive atmosphere eased, though the memory of the encounter lingered.

Quaraun, BoomFuzzy, and GhoulSpawn resumed their journey, the swamp now silent and still.

The power of the Pink Necromancer had been revealed, and even the ancient creatures of the swamp knew better than to cross him. As they left the eerie swamp behind, the full moon continued to watch over them, a silent witness to their trials and triumphs.

Quaraun, his eyes still glowing faintly, placed a reassuring hand on each of his friends’ shoulders.

“We made it,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of relief and exhaustion.

The three of them hugged tightly, their bond strengthened by the harrowing ordeal they had just survived.

The swamp, now silent and still, seemed to acknowledge their victory, the fog parting slightly to reveal a path forward.

Quaraun and BoomFuzzy

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

GhoulSpawn and BoomFuzzy

GhoulSpawn

GhoulSpawn and Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

• eBook Editions from this series can be found on: GumRoad

• Kindle, eBook, Print Paperback, & full colour illustrated Hardcover Editions from this series can be found on: Amazon

Meet The Characters

Wendy Christine Allen, 2019, able to sit up in a chair for the first time in years, and able to raise up my arm and wiggle fingers. This was when I started playing Witcher 3 on Twitch as part of my physical therapy to regain finger movement. Playing Witcher 3 daily from 2016 to 2019, is how I regained the use of my thumb and two for fingers on my right hand... it is also why I stopped playing Witcher 3 in 2019, once I had strengthen my two forefingers enough to start typing again. Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the September 23, 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) If you are here looking for The Twighlight Manor series, The Crystonite Wars series, The Wild Years series, The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane series, The Twisted Tales series, the Captured By a MerMan series, The Space Dock 13 series, The Kats of Planet Ptarmagin series, the stories about Miss Citten the Eel-Kat, or the stories about Etiole... ALL of those series were combined and consolidated into The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Pink Necromancer series in 2014, so ALL the different series, are now under one series title. List of the published titles still in print: The Index of over three thousand stories in The Pink Necromancer series What the series is about, for those new here: The introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series.

If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters: BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma If your ass ain’t freezing or your brains ain’t scrambled, you’re ain’t really trying A Very Important Clump of Grass The Washer Woman & The Fae Absinthe Slushies: An Ode to Frozen Green Fairy Wine Bone Dice Excited For The New Baby Zwodder: A Drowsy Stupid State of Mind Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and The Grim Reality of Zombies Open Grave The Phooka's Dragon School The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops The Jar of Pickled Toes The Book Burning Maggots, a You Can't Spell Hatred Without Red Hats A Day In The Life of a Bumbling Necromancer The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition

My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.

As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.1: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.2: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.3: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.4: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.5: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.

Health update: August 4, 2026 - in recovery for 6 months+ (at least until mid-January 2027...all book and video game releases are pushed back at least 6 months) see video below for why...

@eelkat health update #maine #disabilityawareness #wheelchairlife #wheelchairvlogger #multiplesclerosis ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

Update Sept 3, 2026:

I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.

I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy. 

update sept 7, 2026

"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?

I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.

So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.

see video below for more information: 

@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

update Sept 15, 2026:

I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed

you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?

all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,

well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.

waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.

update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine

Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.

Books By Wendy Christine Allen
Currently Available on Amazon Kindle:

Index of the Quaraun novels, novellas, & short story collections on Amazon

And GumRoad:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on GumRoad

On Medium:

An Index of the more than TWO THOUSAND Quaraun Short Stories on Medium

(NOTE: a $5 or $15 per month paid subscription required to access stories on Medium)

On Vocal:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on Vocal

On Notd:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on Notd

On OnlyFans:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on OnlyFans

(NOTE: a $4.99 per month paid subscription required to access stories on OnlyFans)

Pink Necromancer Merch: On CafePress:

An Index of the Quaraun Merch on CafePress

Pink Necromancer Merch: On Zazzle:

Index of the Quaraun Merch on Zazzle

Not Quaraun:

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

All Rights Reserved.