Post by Ninette De La Magnifique on Sept 6, 2005 16:53:40 GMT 8
The creaking of old hinges signals yet another entrance to the warm establishment. A wisp of cold air sneaks past the incoming entity like a mischievous child, bringing with it an amount of freshness to the stale air filling the shrouded tavern. But nothing could be done about the gloom. It envelops every corner of the room with imminent darkness though allowing small portions of light from hanging lanterns to penetrate the shadow. But she prefers it to be such. The atmosphere was perfect. The shadow presented a welcome to her existence upon the rafter this night. A silent sigh escaped the Jesterette; slow deliberate exhalation of cold air. Once again she stared into the darkness ahead. She was past wary.
In a rare state of self indulgence, she cared naught for the ongoing below as she held on to her precarious perch upon the rafter. The feeling known as pain had receded into a lingering throb, an unfamiliar tug to her astral form. It was excruciating. Gnawing at her insides like maggots upon decaying flesh. Above all, it was bothersome to her unborn spirit. She was not supposed to feel. She was not supposed to be human. Curses! Curse the mortal flesh in which she now resides. A pale hand dove absently into her left breast pocket to come away with a small dagger; an intricate relic belonging to a 'sibling'. A mirthless laughter spilled from painted lips as icy blue orbs glistened; the sharp metal reflecting upon the mirrors into her soulless vessel.
"Who shall pay for thy sin, my love? Who shall suffer for thy lies" She whispers softly, a sorrowful melody though naught sadness was apparent on her flawless features. She twirls the tiny blade between slender digits. "Use thy voice. Fill the sky! Bring the little brats to die!" She whispered before allowing for a demented giggle to erupt, though if one would listen carefully, it sounded more like sobs than laughter. She tilted her bell laden head to the side causing silver bells upon tips of Jester’s hat to roll. There were naught jingles to be heard; only the hushed shifting of air.
"You promised that it would not hurt this mortal heart. You promised it would not.” The laughter was gone, replaced by sighs as she shifted restlessly upon her perch. “But it did, my love. It hurt us. This weary heart bleeds. You promised you will never hurt. Yet you did. You lied! You lied to me!" A whimper ensued as digits curled tighter around the hilt of the petite blade. "Curse you! Curse you! Curse your lies! Curse this feeling! I refuse to feel! I refuse! I wish for you to die! To Die! To Die!" Agonized screams resonated, but not a sound came from parted lips for it was all in her mind.
Closing her eyes as rows of pearly white teeth gritted, she inhales; a sharp inhalation of air as she felt the arms of the shadow reaching up to touch her cold skin. Their gentle touch continued, soothing her trembling muscles and raising goose bumps wherever those dark fingers brushed. Calling to her. Bidding her to surrender. Surrender. Nay! Her mind screamed. She struggled to remain conscious, shaking her head as she heard the Shadow laugh. Laughing at her. Mocking her. Always mocking her. Up went the blade, a brilliant form of metallic hue. And for a stolen moment, it hovers in the air above her head before swiftly coming down upon ample chest, tearing into garment and skin.
The cold matter slid effortlessly into her flesh like hot knife upon butter. She did not flinch. For the pain, if the sickening tear of cloth and flesh would be referred to as such, was a welcome. Dark crimson fluid begins to seep from the tear, staining her elaborate garb. "Curse you.. curse you!" The words would once again resonate between tresses of her dark mind; the tattooed droplet of tear upon her left cheek gleamed. She stared at the growing stain, mesmerized as a shudder ran along the entire length of her lithe form. Coldness began to envelop her. Wrapping its icy arms around her body and pulling her down. She would let this vessel wither, for without the life sustaining fluid, it would surely die.
Nay! A voice nipped at her consciousness, demanding for attention. Soon it became distinct, loud whispers filling her ears, drawing her deep into their plea. “You cannot die! You must not! What will Mother say, precious? What of your siblings? What of your mission? Come back! Come back!” A hand rose on its own accord to pull the dagger; a sigh reverberated as the blade came away with an audible sound of bubbling fluid. “Use thy voice, fill the sky. Bring the little brats to die” She whispers before inhaling, filling her vessel's lungs with cold air. Slowly her gaze would fall unto her chest as the wound closes and the blood diminishes like they never were. "Tis time to play.. "
The voice echoes once more before fading into her dark mind. A blink ensued as she tore her gaze away. "So bad.. so sad". Another whisper was allowed before she lean down to look upon the gathered patrons, corners of crimson tiers curling up; the gleaming dagger, nestling between curled digits coming to rest upon the wooden beam. "Who shall pay for thy sin, my love? Who shall suffer for thy lies? Come, little children, I'll take thee away into the land of enchantment. Come, little children, the time has come to play. Here in my garden of magic" The whispered syllables would echo, swirling seductively within the minds of careless mortals. Coaxing, bidding; enticing their unconscious soul to surrender, with a promise of morbid pleasure everlasting.
In a rare state of self indulgence, she cared naught for the ongoing below as she held on to her precarious perch upon the rafter. The feeling known as pain had receded into a lingering throb, an unfamiliar tug to her astral form. It was excruciating. Gnawing at her insides like maggots upon decaying flesh. Above all, it was bothersome to her unborn spirit. She was not supposed to feel. She was not supposed to be human. Curses! Curse the mortal flesh in which she now resides. A pale hand dove absently into her left breast pocket to come away with a small dagger; an intricate relic belonging to a 'sibling'. A mirthless laughter spilled from painted lips as icy blue orbs glistened; the sharp metal reflecting upon the mirrors into her soulless vessel.
"Who shall pay for thy sin, my love? Who shall suffer for thy lies" She whispers softly, a sorrowful melody though naught sadness was apparent on her flawless features. She twirls the tiny blade between slender digits. "Use thy voice. Fill the sky! Bring the little brats to die!" She whispered before allowing for a demented giggle to erupt, though if one would listen carefully, it sounded more like sobs than laughter. She tilted her bell laden head to the side causing silver bells upon tips of Jester’s hat to roll. There were naught jingles to be heard; only the hushed shifting of air.
"You promised that it would not hurt this mortal heart. You promised it would not.” The laughter was gone, replaced by sighs as she shifted restlessly upon her perch. “But it did, my love. It hurt us. This weary heart bleeds. You promised you will never hurt. Yet you did. You lied! You lied to me!" A whimper ensued as digits curled tighter around the hilt of the petite blade. "Curse you! Curse you! Curse your lies! Curse this feeling! I refuse to feel! I refuse! I wish for you to die! To Die! To Die!" Agonized screams resonated, but not a sound came from parted lips for it was all in her mind.
Closing her eyes as rows of pearly white teeth gritted, she inhales; a sharp inhalation of air as she felt the arms of the shadow reaching up to touch her cold skin. Their gentle touch continued, soothing her trembling muscles and raising goose bumps wherever those dark fingers brushed. Calling to her. Bidding her to surrender. Surrender. Nay! Her mind screamed. She struggled to remain conscious, shaking her head as she heard the Shadow laugh. Laughing at her. Mocking her. Always mocking her. Up went the blade, a brilliant form of metallic hue. And for a stolen moment, it hovers in the air above her head before swiftly coming down upon ample chest, tearing into garment and skin.
The cold matter slid effortlessly into her flesh like hot knife upon butter. She did not flinch. For the pain, if the sickening tear of cloth and flesh would be referred to as such, was a welcome. Dark crimson fluid begins to seep from the tear, staining her elaborate garb. "Curse you.. curse you!" The words would once again resonate between tresses of her dark mind; the tattooed droplet of tear upon her left cheek gleamed. She stared at the growing stain, mesmerized as a shudder ran along the entire length of her lithe form. Coldness began to envelop her. Wrapping its icy arms around her body and pulling her down. She would let this vessel wither, for without the life sustaining fluid, it would surely die.
Nay! A voice nipped at her consciousness, demanding for attention. Soon it became distinct, loud whispers filling her ears, drawing her deep into their plea. “You cannot die! You must not! What will Mother say, precious? What of your siblings? What of your mission? Come back! Come back!” A hand rose on its own accord to pull the dagger; a sigh reverberated as the blade came away with an audible sound of bubbling fluid. “Use thy voice, fill the sky. Bring the little brats to die” She whispers before inhaling, filling her vessel's lungs with cold air. Slowly her gaze would fall unto her chest as the wound closes and the blood diminishes like they never were. "Tis time to play.. "
The voice echoes once more before fading into her dark mind. A blink ensued as she tore her gaze away. "So bad.. so sad". Another whisper was allowed before she lean down to look upon the gathered patrons, corners of crimson tiers curling up; the gleaming dagger, nestling between curled digits coming to rest upon the wooden beam. "Who shall pay for thy sin, my love? Who shall suffer for thy lies? Come, little children, I'll take thee away into the land of enchantment. Come, little children, the time has come to play. Here in my garden of magic" The whispered syllables would echo, swirling seductively within the minds of careless mortals. Coaxing, bidding; enticing their unconscious soul to surrender, with a promise of morbid pleasure everlasting.