Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
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Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
Darkness, is one of the first things humans see as their lives begin. The darkness belongs to the place where they are, within their mother's womb with their eyes closed to the world, sleeping just before the beginning of a long stay outside of where they believe to be home. then, every time they tire of the day's activities of interaction with places, people, and things, they close their eyes again to sleep once more. This happens every day for decades, over and over, until finally they close their eyes and do not awaken once more, slipping away into another kind of darkness, one which does not end.
Similarly, in the views of Johnathon Kelvin Anders, vampires begin their lives with darkness. The darkness of the alleyway, bedroom, hotel room, empty street, or other places. In that darkness, humans meet an embrace of darkness, a kind which is neither ending nor beginning, that always has been but has not. The darkness of being a creature of the night embraces them fully, and for the rest of their years, vampires are in darkness, to hide from that which harms them or would seek to harm them if they were seen. Some use that darkness to obtain sustenance, others for violence, and others still to find knowledge, love, and power.
The man who was once a human serial killer, and then became a vampire of the Killer Path, formerly known as Hanei, stood in the center of the park in Honeymead, Harper Rock, Canada. He was hiding beneath a tree, but anyone who was looking for a person could likely see him. He wore a plain, albeit dirty, black suit, with black cross-training shoes for traction when running, and a white button-up shirt that had the top button left open to reveal the pale skin of his upper chest. Johnathon's black hair was messy and unkempt, the result of sleeping in the sewers for days, feeling unworthy of the beds offered to him by many a friendly Bloodline member, and so in the moonlight it seemed greasy, which it was, though it was dead. His dark brown eyes scanned the treeline, waiting for the final bit of darkness, which he hoped would help him end the blackness that haunted his life.
Similarly, in the views of Johnathon Kelvin Anders, vampires begin their lives with darkness. The darkness of the alleyway, bedroom, hotel room, empty street, or other places. In that darkness, humans meet an embrace of darkness, a kind which is neither ending nor beginning, that always has been but has not. The darkness of being a creature of the night embraces them fully, and for the rest of their years, vampires are in darkness, to hide from that which harms them or would seek to harm them if they were seen. Some use that darkness to obtain sustenance, others for violence, and others still to find knowledge, love, and power.
The man who was once a human serial killer, and then became a vampire of the Killer Path, formerly known as Hanei, stood in the center of the park in Honeymead, Harper Rock, Canada. He was hiding beneath a tree, but anyone who was looking for a person could likely see him. He wore a plain, albeit dirty, black suit, with black cross-training shoes for traction when running, and a white button-up shirt that had the top button left open to reveal the pale skin of his upper chest. Johnathon's black hair was messy and unkempt, the result of sleeping in the sewers for days, feeling unworthy of the beds offered to him by many a friendly Bloodline member, and so in the moonlight it seemed greasy, which it was, though it was dead. His dark brown eyes scanned the treeline, waiting for the final bit of darkness, which he hoped would help him end the blackness that haunted his life.
Immortal ~ Killer ~ Shifter
- Jezebel Tzasun
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Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
It was a rare thing for her to venture out for too long. Lately though she was finding something similar to peace amongst the crowds of people that roamed the streets, and even amongst her own kind for the first time in quite a while. Though the manor offered her shelter and a place to call her own, the silence had finally become too much to bear. It was a maddening silence broken only by the occasional visitor or her cats breaking something. Other than those couple of instances she was always alone. At least there she could hide away from the world and no one knew she was, in a sense, alive. When everything went south she disappeared, left practically everything behind for a self imposed isolation.
Jezebel had broken her routine, quite successfully actually. Okay, so the changes were only for the time being. Once everything was done and over with she knew good and well she would probably go back in to hiding just to be on the safe side of things. The small goth found it fairly easy to ignore all of the people she passed by on the streets. They meant little to her. Their lives meant nothing to her, or at least, they didn't mean much. All most of them were to her was just some sort of sustenance or a play thing for when she got too bored.
She ventured between Gullsborough, Wickbridge, and Honeymead most of the time. It was a rare thing for her to go anywhere else but from time to time she would go elsewhere. It made the woman feel uncomfortable though, more than she dared to admit to anyone. Yeah, there was usually a smile on her lips or she at least appeared somewhat happy without seeming overly happy about anything. Usually most people found it disturbing to see her smile about anything, so she would only do that if she felt like freaking people out, as if her appearance wasn't enough to do that to them.
Somehow she had found herself just wandering around aimlessly. Her feet leading the way as they normally did. For some reason though, one that she couldn't quite put her finger on, she found herself wandering around in Honeymead just staring up at the sky. There was something peaceful about it but the more she stared the more annoyed she became with not being able to recall why she was in the area, or if there was even a reason to begin with. One step after another and then a few more. Next thing she knew she found herself in an area she figured most considered a park of some kind.
There was something vaguely familiar about the area, though she couldn't put her finger on that either. Moments like this were always extremely frustrating for her. Either she forgot faces, names, places, or she just remembered incorrectly no matter what. Jez had gotten better about remembering things though, usually because she tried to remain in contact with those few people that had anything to do with her or she kept a journal about people and encounters.
Her eyes took in her surroundings, taking note of anything that was of some sort of importance. In the distance she spotted what she believed to be a figure of a man. The goth didn't bother with taking in details right away as she moved toward the figure. Cautiously, she approached the man and as she drew closer she finally realized who it was. Right away there was an unneeded sigh of relief. It was another old habit that refused to die. “Hello dear.” The words came out softly, barely above a whisper despite her efforts to sound normal.
Jezebel had broken her routine, quite successfully actually. Okay, so the changes were only for the time being. Once everything was done and over with she knew good and well she would probably go back in to hiding just to be on the safe side of things. The small goth found it fairly easy to ignore all of the people she passed by on the streets. They meant little to her. Their lives meant nothing to her, or at least, they didn't mean much. All most of them were to her was just some sort of sustenance or a play thing for when she got too bored.
She ventured between Gullsborough, Wickbridge, and Honeymead most of the time. It was a rare thing for her to go anywhere else but from time to time she would go elsewhere. It made the woman feel uncomfortable though, more than she dared to admit to anyone. Yeah, there was usually a smile on her lips or she at least appeared somewhat happy without seeming overly happy about anything. Usually most people found it disturbing to see her smile about anything, so she would only do that if she felt like freaking people out, as if her appearance wasn't enough to do that to them.
Somehow she had found herself just wandering around aimlessly. Her feet leading the way as they normally did. For some reason though, one that she couldn't quite put her finger on, she found herself wandering around in Honeymead just staring up at the sky. There was something peaceful about it but the more she stared the more annoyed she became with not being able to recall why she was in the area, or if there was even a reason to begin with. One step after another and then a few more. Next thing she knew she found herself in an area she figured most considered a park of some kind.
There was something vaguely familiar about the area, though she couldn't put her finger on that either. Moments like this were always extremely frustrating for her. Either she forgot faces, names, places, or she just remembered incorrectly no matter what. Jez had gotten better about remembering things though, usually because she tried to remain in contact with those few people that had anything to do with her or she kept a journal about people and encounters.
Her eyes took in her surroundings, taking note of anything that was of some sort of importance. In the distance she spotted what she believed to be a figure of a man. The goth didn't bother with taking in details right away as she moved toward the figure. Cautiously, she approached the man and as she drew closer she finally realized who it was. Right away there was an unneeded sigh of relief. It was another old habit that refused to die. “Hello dear.” The words came out softly, barely above a whisper despite her efforts to sound normal.
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Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
If one saw Johnathon a year before that night, they would have seen an almost sadistic, macabre man who never took off his mask and trenchcoat so that no one would be able to find the man who had taken their father, mother, brother, sister, son, or daughter from them. A man who valued nothing other than pleasing the voice within his dreams, and within his waking thoughts. Pleasing that woman, that creature, who wore a black dress and pretended to be the Mother figure he had never known.
Tonight, he wore a black suit, wrinkled but clean, with a white button up shirt which lacked a neck tie, and black dress shoes that had far too little traction for the things he used to do. The trench coat he had cleaned and given to a homeless man, the mask had been shattered and the pieces sent down river. He did all he could to erase the memory and image of the man he had once been: the killer Hanei.
At the sound of a soft pitter patter of slow, confused steps, Johnathon Kelvin Anders knew she had arrived. Not the woman who haunted him, who prevented him from sleeping soundly or from moving on past his days as a Serial Killer, but a much different one. This woman was a vampire, one whom he found to be beautiful, in fact. If a dark angel existed, she was that dark angel: Jezebel Tzasun. He turned as he heard her speak, having found him, looking at her with fatigued, pained, almost empty brown eyes.
"Hello...Jezebel." Was all he could say at first, looking at her, analyzing her every feature and movement like he did to almost no one else. Only his Sire, who also held his deep admiration and caring, ever received this, though he had seen neither of them in some time. So obsessed had he been with finding the fae that he secluded himself from others, except to ask for information or to do his job as Security at Club Argent. "I trust...you...found your...way...safely?" His hoarse, ill voice spoke slowly, almost with a drawl found in the Southern United States, though he had never lived there a day in his life.
Tonight, he wore a black suit, wrinkled but clean, with a white button up shirt which lacked a neck tie, and black dress shoes that had far too little traction for the things he used to do. The trench coat he had cleaned and given to a homeless man, the mask had been shattered and the pieces sent down river. He did all he could to erase the memory and image of the man he had once been: the killer Hanei.
At the sound of a soft pitter patter of slow, confused steps, Johnathon Kelvin Anders knew she had arrived. Not the woman who haunted him, who prevented him from sleeping soundly or from moving on past his days as a Serial Killer, but a much different one. This woman was a vampire, one whom he found to be beautiful, in fact. If a dark angel existed, she was that dark angel: Jezebel Tzasun. He turned as he heard her speak, having found him, looking at her with fatigued, pained, almost empty brown eyes.
"Hello...Jezebel." Was all he could say at first, looking at her, analyzing her every feature and movement like he did to almost no one else. Only his Sire, who also held his deep admiration and caring, ever received this, though he had seen neither of them in some time. So obsessed had he been with finding the fae that he secluded himself from others, except to ask for information or to do his job as Security at Club Argent. "I trust...you...found your...way...safely?" His hoarse, ill voice spoke slowly, almost with a drawl found in the Southern United States, though he had never lived there a day in his life.
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- Jezebel Tzasun
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Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
Somehow she always managed to find her way to the ones that needed her most. In a way, in some strange way, she always knew where she needed to be, though every once in a while it meant being sent on a vacation of sorts. The woman was cautious, her guard never dropping, not even for the briefest of moments. Yes, she knew and trusted him, but that didn't stop her from being, at times, a little too cautious despite everything she knew.
Yeah, the small woman was the man's boss at the club but that didn't stop her from caring for him outside of the workplace. After all, they were also family. He was just about the only family member she was close to anymore. The others didn't really matter to her, just like many others. Jez was very careful when it came to the ones she surrounded herself with. If they didn't meet some sort of strange standard that she had set, they didn't mean **** to her. It was just how she was. He had been there for her just as she had been there for him.
Her eyes searched his face, taking in every detail that she could as she smiled ever so sweetly at him. A soft sigh left her as she hesitantly reached out to straighten up part of his suit and shirt. It had only been slightly off but still, it had been something she had noticed that was bugging her. “I always find my way, though most of the time it is never safely.” There was something about the night that set her on edge. Something wasn't quite right but she couldn't put her finger on it, not that it really mattered. Eventually she would figure out what it was that felt wrong.
Out of habit, more of a nervous tick than anything else, she pulled on one of the piercings in her bottom lip with her teeth. Jez switched up which one she pulled on after so many pulls, usually just a couple of pulls and then she would move on to the next. Things had been weird lately, mainly just wherever she went but that was probably just because it was her. Everything was always weird. Yeah, it was totally just her, but that still didn't explain why something felt off about the night. It was still bugging her no matter how hard she tried to push the feeling away, it just wouldn't stay locked away for long before it was back bugging her like there was no tomorrow.
Her attention had drifted off elsewhere without her really noticing it until she realized she wasn't looking at him anymore. Somehow she had ended up just staring off at nothing apparently. Blinking several times, she turned her attention back to him. Maybe they could finally put an end to the thing that was haunting him, no, not haunting, that was the wrong word for what she was trying to get at. Tormenting! That was it! That was the word she had been looking for but had failed at putting her finger on at first. Whatever it was that was tormenting him during every single moment of everyday was, hopefully, finally going to meet its match.
“But as I said, I made it and luckily the short travel was safe unlike other trips I have made lately.” Once more that sweet smile of hers played across her lips. The wheels in her head were constantly turning though, trying to figure out everything she could do to help him out. “So, what's the plan darling?”
Yeah, the small woman was the man's boss at the club but that didn't stop her from caring for him outside of the workplace. After all, they were also family. He was just about the only family member she was close to anymore. The others didn't really matter to her, just like many others. Jez was very careful when it came to the ones she surrounded herself with. If they didn't meet some sort of strange standard that she had set, they didn't mean **** to her. It was just how she was. He had been there for her just as she had been there for him.
Her eyes searched his face, taking in every detail that she could as she smiled ever so sweetly at him. A soft sigh left her as she hesitantly reached out to straighten up part of his suit and shirt. It had only been slightly off but still, it had been something she had noticed that was bugging her. “I always find my way, though most of the time it is never safely.” There was something about the night that set her on edge. Something wasn't quite right but she couldn't put her finger on it, not that it really mattered. Eventually she would figure out what it was that felt wrong.
Out of habit, more of a nervous tick than anything else, she pulled on one of the piercings in her bottom lip with her teeth. Jez switched up which one she pulled on after so many pulls, usually just a couple of pulls and then she would move on to the next. Things had been weird lately, mainly just wherever she went but that was probably just because it was her. Everything was always weird. Yeah, it was totally just her, but that still didn't explain why something felt off about the night. It was still bugging her no matter how hard she tried to push the feeling away, it just wouldn't stay locked away for long before it was back bugging her like there was no tomorrow.
Her attention had drifted off elsewhere without her really noticing it until she realized she wasn't looking at him anymore. Somehow she had ended up just staring off at nothing apparently. Blinking several times, she turned her attention back to him. Maybe they could finally put an end to the thing that was haunting him, no, not haunting, that was the wrong word for what she was trying to get at. Tormenting! That was it! That was the word she had been looking for but had failed at putting her finger on at first. Whatever it was that was tormenting him during every single moment of everyday was, hopefully, finally going to meet its match.
“But as I said, I made it and luckily the short travel was safe unlike other trips I have made lately.” Once more that sweet smile of hers played across her lips. The wheels in her head were constantly turning though, trying to figure out everything she could do to help him out. “So, what's the plan darling?”
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Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
Johnathon watched Jezebel carefully, her pale features like snow more than like a corpse, as many vampires often described their own appearance. Perhaps it was because Jezebel had done more for him over instant messaging than most anyone had ever done in his whole life. Here she stood at last, only a little smaller in height and frame than himself, but bigger than he could ever be in stature of spirit and mind.
He watched her straighten his jacket coat and shirt, wondering why she did it but not saying a word of protest. Her close proximity was...distracting to say the least, intoxicating if he wanted to be dramatic. He felt a strange buzz filling his mind, almost like the static on a radio when no one was talking. He saw her lips move for a moment or two as she said something, but he couldn't hear what she was saying, like someone had muted the volume. All he cared about was the details of her lips' appearance anyway. The way the chrome piercings pulled on the skin and flesh as she tugged on them with her teeth, the slender shape and feminine accent in form.
Johnathon had to visibly shake his head for a moment to refocus on the task at hand, not certain why he was acting this way. His mind had never before become this infatuated with anyone, or anything, not even for a moment or two. And yet, now he had to use most of his mental willpower to keep on focus the whole time.
"I am....glad...that your...journey...was...safe." He nodded and looked down at the ground, hoping she would not notice just how distracted he was. The plan...well there wasn't much of one at all, really. He reached behind the tree and pulled out a brown sack, full of many different items. "I...took the....liberty...of...acquiring....some items...that might....be...useful to...any ritual...my hope...is to...find...the......Fae...with a...ritual...then kill....it...violently." His voice became somewhat deeper as he spoke, his gaze more distant, as he relished within his mind the thought of pulling open the Fae's throat, if it had one, and watching the blood seep out and spill into the dirt. His fists involuntarily clenched, and he stared at the ground with a scowl.
He watched her straighten his jacket coat and shirt, wondering why she did it but not saying a word of protest. Her close proximity was...distracting to say the least, intoxicating if he wanted to be dramatic. He felt a strange buzz filling his mind, almost like the static on a radio when no one was talking. He saw her lips move for a moment or two as she said something, but he couldn't hear what she was saying, like someone had muted the volume. All he cared about was the details of her lips' appearance anyway. The way the chrome piercings pulled on the skin and flesh as she tugged on them with her teeth, the slender shape and feminine accent in form.
Johnathon had to visibly shake his head for a moment to refocus on the task at hand, not certain why he was acting this way. His mind had never before become this infatuated with anyone, or anything, not even for a moment or two. And yet, now he had to use most of his mental willpower to keep on focus the whole time.
"I am....glad...that your...journey...was...safe." He nodded and looked down at the ground, hoping she would not notice just how distracted he was. The plan...well there wasn't much of one at all, really. He reached behind the tree and pulled out a brown sack, full of many different items. "I...took the....liberty...of...acquiring....some items...that might....be...useful to...any ritual...my hope...is to...find...the......Fae...with a...ritual...then kill....it...violently." His voice became somewhat deeper as he spoke, his gaze more distant, as he relished within his mind the thought of pulling open the Fae's throat, if it had one, and watching the blood seep out and spill into the dirt. His fists involuntarily clenched, and he stared at the ground with a scowl.
Immortal ~ Killer ~ Shifter
- Jezebel Tzasun
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Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
As a human, the woman had known little of affection or anything else of that nature. All she had known had been pain and suffering. Between being sick and being raised in a home that was far from safe, she had suffered more than she had ever bothered to share with anyone. Perhaps that all of that had played a part in how she acted and who she was. For some, after being dealt such a horrible hand, they wanted to make sure that others never dealt with anything like that, and then there were those few people that just wanted to watch the world burn. Of course, at one point, she had been one of those that wanted to watch the world burn and crumble to ash around her, but things changed for the better.
There was something about the man that stood there so close to her. The tiny woman couldn't put her finger on it but there was something there, lurking beneath the surface. Then again, maybe she was just imagining it all, not like she would probably never know for sure one way or the other. Lately though, things seemed to have this interesting little habit of tricking her, making her think she wasn't going to figure something out only to end up realizing what it had been the whole time.
When he shook his head it caught her attention, not that doing so was hard to manage in the first place. A curious expression crossed her features but not a single word escaped her lips about the movement. Had she imagined it like she did so many other things? Of course not, that movement she had actually seen, and she was sure of it. A few more tugs on the piercings just to reassure herself that she wasn't dreaming and a small pat to his shoulder just to further confirm that he was actually there, and she was happy with the conclusion.
An excited giggle left her at the sight of the sack. Oh how she loved bags of stuff, especially if she could use them for rituals. They were something similar to a pass time for her, and one that she enjoyed very much, though a good bit of the joy she felt from doing them had vanished for reasons she never wanted to speak of with anyone. “I'm sure there are quite a few things in here that can be used for a ritual or two, maybe more. Hopefully I'll be able to find something out for you, my dear.” Jez searched his face for some sort of sign as to why his voice and everything suddenly changed. She could only think that it had something to do with this Fae he wanted to find so badly.
A very soft, barely audible sigh left her out of habit as she inched just a little bit closer to him, setting the sack on the ground in the process. One of her hands reached out and gently touched one of his hands that had clenched. “There, there dear. No need to get worked up or anything. We'll find that damned creature and destroy it somehow. If that doesn't work, we'll try something else. We'll break the hold that thing has on you one way or another.” It hadn't been like her to be very confident to begin with, but after everything that had happened to her over the past few years, things had changed. “I'll fight this thing alongside you until the bitter end.”
There was something about the man that stood there so close to her. The tiny woman couldn't put her finger on it but there was something there, lurking beneath the surface. Then again, maybe she was just imagining it all, not like she would probably never know for sure one way or the other. Lately though, things seemed to have this interesting little habit of tricking her, making her think she wasn't going to figure something out only to end up realizing what it had been the whole time.
When he shook his head it caught her attention, not that doing so was hard to manage in the first place. A curious expression crossed her features but not a single word escaped her lips about the movement. Had she imagined it like she did so many other things? Of course not, that movement she had actually seen, and she was sure of it. A few more tugs on the piercings just to reassure herself that she wasn't dreaming and a small pat to his shoulder just to further confirm that he was actually there, and she was happy with the conclusion.
An excited giggle left her at the sight of the sack. Oh how she loved bags of stuff, especially if she could use them for rituals. They were something similar to a pass time for her, and one that she enjoyed very much, though a good bit of the joy she felt from doing them had vanished for reasons she never wanted to speak of with anyone. “I'm sure there are quite a few things in here that can be used for a ritual or two, maybe more. Hopefully I'll be able to find something out for you, my dear.” Jez searched his face for some sort of sign as to why his voice and everything suddenly changed. She could only think that it had something to do with this Fae he wanted to find so badly.
A very soft, barely audible sigh left her out of habit as she inched just a little bit closer to him, setting the sack on the ground in the process. One of her hands reached out and gently touched one of his hands that had clenched. “There, there dear. No need to get worked up or anything. We'll find that damned creature and destroy it somehow. If that doesn't work, we'll try something else. We'll break the hold that thing has on you one way or another.” It hadn't been like her to be very confident to begin with, but after everything that had happened to her over the past few years, things had changed. “I'll fight this thing alongside you until the bitter end.”
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Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
Why did she insist on patting his shoulder and smoothing his shirt and jacket? The tugging on her piercings could easily be a nervous habit, and perhaps her straightening of his jacket without a word was some form of obsessive compulsive disorder, in which she felt a near need to have things be organized. That didn't exactly match with someone of her appearance, or hatefulness of the Masquerade, but then again it was Jezebel, and she was so unpredictable as to make many wonder at times.
Johnathon himself let out a breathe, which only crystalized and became a white mist in the air. The pat on his shoulder...did she have memory problems? That would explain something, she might be forgetting who he is in some kind of short-term memory loss, and simply need a quiet assurance that she knew who he was and why he was here. He could sympathize with that, lately amnesia had gripped him more than once due to the Fae's influence.
Her excitement over the bag was unexpected but not unwelcome. In fact, it was almost amusing, but Johnathon hadn't laughed in ages, not since before he had called himself Hanei. In fact, now that he thought about it briefly, he could almost remember that moment with perfect detail. He had been a boy, approximately eight or nine years old, playing in the yard outside his orphanage, pretending to be a hero or a knight or some such. He had crossed the street, something he wasn't supposed to do, and pretended to give battle to the dragon-like tree that remained there. One of the orphanage owners had appeared and been yelling at him, with an amusing expression on her face and he....he....
The memory was gone, a small flicker of joy, only to be taken away forever leaving an ice cold emptiness. That coldness seeped through his whole body, and he stared off into the distance a moment, wondering how the memory had left and why it had come in the first place. It was so cold, cold enough to rival the thickest, most frozen pack of snow in all of Harper Rock. It traveled from his head, down to his feet, up to his fingers, and then centered and compacted deep in the heart he had assumed he never had.
Then he felt a strange warmth, and a calm, soft reassuring voice telling him that he wasn't alone in his fight against the Fae. He blinked and looked down at his hands, seeing that one of his fists had been carefully held by one with beautifully dark nails and slender, strangely warm and pale fingers. The warmth came from where she was holding his hand and went up into his head, so that he could think clearly as he looked up into Jezebel's face.
"Thank...you...Jez..." he slowly and raspily said, his unfortunately immortal ailment forever haunting him and making him sound both sick and depressed "I don't....know...how I could...do...this...without you...." His fists had unclenched when he realized she was holding his hand, and now hung limply at his side, unsure of what to do with them he left them as they were. If only he didn't have to speak so slowly, he would express himself now, but he feared his illness would ruin the emotion he wished to convey.
Suddenly, there was a flicker in the corner of his left eye, and Johnathon's head wheeled towards it in time to see some kind of black substance dart behind a tree. Was it a mist? A puff of smoke?....The fabric of a dress? Wild with suspicion and a slowly building fury, the man who was still at times called Hanei pulled his hand from Jezebel's and ran towards the tree, not activating his Anima yet but not needing it as he sprinted to the other side, looking about frantically into the darkness. He heard a laugh almost an instant later, a cackle that sent a chill down his spine like a torturously cold ice cube being pressed against his back. Looking towards the source, he saw what could have been nothing but the trail of an all too familiar black dress flit behing a tree further away. "You won't get away *****!" He screamed, blood trickling from his mouth a moment before he again sprinted after it, not realizing when he got there that he was being led in a large circle around where he had left Jezebel, angrily darting from tree to tree in an attempt to catch his tormentor and rip it's heart out if it had one.
Johnathon himself let out a breathe, which only crystalized and became a white mist in the air. The pat on his shoulder...did she have memory problems? That would explain something, she might be forgetting who he is in some kind of short-term memory loss, and simply need a quiet assurance that she knew who he was and why he was here. He could sympathize with that, lately amnesia had gripped him more than once due to the Fae's influence.
Her excitement over the bag was unexpected but not unwelcome. In fact, it was almost amusing, but Johnathon hadn't laughed in ages, not since before he had called himself Hanei. In fact, now that he thought about it briefly, he could almost remember that moment with perfect detail. He had been a boy, approximately eight or nine years old, playing in the yard outside his orphanage, pretending to be a hero or a knight or some such. He had crossed the street, something he wasn't supposed to do, and pretended to give battle to the dragon-like tree that remained there. One of the orphanage owners had appeared and been yelling at him, with an amusing expression on her face and he....he....
The memory was gone, a small flicker of joy, only to be taken away forever leaving an ice cold emptiness. That coldness seeped through his whole body, and he stared off into the distance a moment, wondering how the memory had left and why it had come in the first place. It was so cold, cold enough to rival the thickest, most frozen pack of snow in all of Harper Rock. It traveled from his head, down to his feet, up to his fingers, and then centered and compacted deep in the heart he had assumed he never had.
Then he felt a strange warmth, and a calm, soft reassuring voice telling him that he wasn't alone in his fight against the Fae. He blinked and looked down at his hands, seeing that one of his fists had been carefully held by one with beautifully dark nails and slender, strangely warm and pale fingers. The warmth came from where she was holding his hand and went up into his head, so that he could think clearly as he looked up into Jezebel's face.
"Thank...you...Jez..." he slowly and raspily said, his unfortunately immortal ailment forever haunting him and making him sound both sick and depressed "I don't....know...how I could...do...this...without you...." His fists had unclenched when he realized she was holding his hand, and now hung limply at his side, unsure of what to do with them he left them as they were. If only he didn't have to speak so slowly, he would express himself now, but he feared his illness would ruin the emotion he wished to convey.
Suddenly, there was a flicker in the corner of his left eye, and Johnathon's head wheeled towards it in time to see some kind of black substance dart behind a tree. Was it a mist? A puff of smoke?....The fabric of a dress? Wild with suspicion and a slowly building fury, the man who was still at times called Hanei pulled his hand from Jezebel's and ran towards the tree, not activating his Anima yet but not needing it as he sprinted to the other side, looking about frantically into the darkness. He heard a laugh almost an instant later, a cackle that sent a chill down his spine like a torturously cold ice cube being pressed against his back. Looking towards the source, he saw what could have been nothing but the trail of an all too familiar black dress flit behing a tree further away. "You won't get away *****!" He screamed, blood trickling from his mouth a moment before he again sprinted after it, not realizing when he got there that he was being led in a large circle around where he had left Jezebel, angrily darting from tree to tree in an attempt to catch his tormentor and rip it's heart out if it had one.
Immortal ~ Killer ~ Shifter
- Jezebel Tzasun
- Registered User
- Posts: 117
- Joined: 06 Jun 2011, 16:47
- CrowNet Handle: DarkAngel
- Location: Argent Manor
- Contact:
Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
Despite how she was and the way she could act from time to time, the woman always wanted things to be nice and neat. It was something she didn't quite understand but the want, bordering on need, to have things just right was always there. Perhaps it was just her way of getting over never having control over everything in her old life, or perhaps it was actually some sort of obsessive compulsive disorder. Whatever the reason behind her actions she was certain that the answer would elude her like everything else.
Often times she would find herself randomly needing to make some sort of physical contact with someone or something, mainly just to reassure herself that the person or thing in front of her was actually there. Every once in a while she could ignore the need to do so but the majority of the time it got the best of her. Her memory issues never really got any better after she had been turned. In fact, if she didn't remind herself, through her writing or art, who someone was it was very likely she would forget them in a matter of months. There was something about the man though. He quieted those pesky inner demons of hers, even if it was only briefly. She could be herself around him, and only one other person, but still, for the longest time, or so it felt like that, he was the only one that seemed to understand her.
It was rather interesting sometimes how she would react to things. The bag of goodies was definitely worth the reaction. The tiny woman loved anything that would help keep her busy. Work, work, work, oh and more work. That's all she really seemed to do but she loved it. Time flew by a bit faster, or at least to her it did. It gave her very little time to think of anything too personal, which was a blessing in so many ways given how the past couple of years had been for her. Her expression shifted, matching various emotions that hit her. Those pierced lips of hers would twitch and turn down at the corners at memories of certain people, then turn up at memories of events. Next thing you know she looked angry then she was back to normal, a somewhat blank stare and a fake smile plastered in place.
Oh this man was probably going to get her in trouble but she didn't care. Despite how he might appear, blank gaze and all, she saw a kind and gentle man that had a troubled past. Some might even go as far as to say he was broken, but so was she and troubled by her own haunting past. Somewhere, in the depths of her mind, she had decided that no matter what happened, she would stand by him. It didn't matter if it was a fight with inner demons or some asshole that thought they were high and mighty, Jez wasn't going to stray. Not even at the risk of being sent back to the shadow realm.
Those pierced and painted up lips of hers twitched, turning up in to a sweet smile, but she knew that despite the outward appearance of it, there was always something sinister lurking beneath the surface for her. “You're welcome dear.” Jez looked about for a moment as her body gave a small shudder. That was something that she hadn't felt in a while. The feeling was extremely uneasy, almost threatening in a way, but then again, it didn't take much for something or someone to come off that way to her. Could it possibly be?
She vaguely remembered being tormented daily by something similar to, or perhaps it was exactly like, the thing that haunted him. His sudden movements did little to startle her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew to expect it to happen. Jez watched him closely, darting around trying to catch the thing that bothered him so much. For a moment she stood there almost hypnotized by what was going on, in fact she was so intrigued by it that she hadn't noticed the fact that he was being led in a circle.
The woman went completely still, not even daring to blink. Something wasn't right. Was there a reason he was being led in that circle? Was it just toying with him? Maybe whatever it was was just acting as a distraction. Whatever the reason all she knew is that she wanted to run, run far away from the area and get to some place safe. Oh how she tried to move but her body did not obey. She was stuck in place whether by fear or by something else, she didn't know, but not being able to move bothered her more than anything. Not even her mouth would obey her. It would not open for her to be able to call out to him, to hopefully draw his attention back to her for the time being. Great. Somehow the woman had ended up being a 'living' statue in a way. That was just bloody freaking wonderful.
Often times she would find herself randomly needing to make some sort of physical contact with someone or something, mainly just to reassure herself that the person or thing in front of her was actually there. Every once in a while she could ignore the need to do so but the majority of the time it got the best of her. Her memory issues never really got any better after she had been turned. In fact, if she didn't remind herself, through her writing or art, who someone was it was very likely she would forget them in a matter of months. There was something about the man though. He quieted those pesky inner demons of hers, even if it was only briefly. She could be herself around him, and only one other person, but still, for the longest time, or so it felt like that, he was the only one that seemed to understand her.
It was rather interesting sometimes how she would react to things. The bag of goodies was definitely worth the reaction. The tiny woman loved anything that would help keep her busy. Work, work, work, oh and more work. That's all she really seemed to do but she loved it. Time flew by a bit faster, or at least to her it did. It gave her very little time to think of anything too personal, which was a blessing in so many ways given how the past couple of years had been for her. Her expression shifted, matching various emotions that hit her. Those pierced lips of hers would twitch and turn down at the corners at memories of certain people, then turn up at memories of events. Next thing you know she looked angry then she was back to normal, a somewhat blank stare and a fake smile plastered in place.
Oh this man was probably going to get her in trouble but she didn't care. Despite how he might appear, blank gaze and all, she saw a kind and gentle man that had a troubled past. Some might even go as far as to say he was broken, but so was she and troubled by her own haunting past. Somewhere, in the depths of her mind, she had decided that no matter what happened, she would stand by him. It didn't matter if it was a fight with inner demons or some asshole that thought they were high and mighty, Jez wasn't going to stray. Not even at the risk of being sent back to the shadow realm.
Those pierced and painted up lips of hers twitched, turning up in to a sweet smile, but she knew that despite the outward appearance of it, there was always something sinister lurking beneath the surface for her. “You're welcome dear.” Jez looked about for a moment as her body gave a small shudder. That was something that she hadn't felt in a while. The feeling was extremely uneasy, almost threatening in a way, but then again, it didn't take much for something or someone to come off that way to her. Could it possibly be?
She vaguely remembered being tormented daily by something similar to, or perhaps it was exactly like, the thing that haunted him. His sudden movements did little to startle her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew to expect it to happen. Jez watched him closely, darting around trying to catch the thing that bothered him so much. For a moment she stood there almost hypnotized by what was going on, in fact she was so intrigued by it that she hadn't noticed the fact that he was being led in a circle.
The woman went completely still, not even daring to blink. Something wasn't right. Was there a reason he was being led in that circle? Was it just toying with him? Maybe whatever it was was just acting as a distraction. Whatever the reason all she knew is that she wanted to run, run far away from the area and get to some place safe. Oh how she tried to move but her body did not obey. She was stuck in place whether by fear or by something else, she didn't know, but not being able to move bothered her more than anything. Not even her mouth would obey her. It would not open for her to be able to call out to him, to hopefully draw his attention back to her for the time being. Great. Somehow the woman had ended up being a 'living' statue in a way. That was just bloody freaking wonderful.
Pretty things made by Claire
-
- Posts: 250
- Joined: 22 Sep 2012, 00:12
- CrowNet Handle: Hanei
- Location: Harper Rock
- Contact:
Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
Darkness comes in many shades of black and gray, from pure evil to questionable honor. Sometimes, it's not black OR gray, it's white. And sometimes its red, and a menagerie of other possible colors and shades thereof. Darkness, or evil if you prefer, comes in many appearances, but it has a mind of its own, and thus a favorite. It's favorite form, is shadow.
Shadows are innocent and natural, below suspicion and above reproach, terrifying and comforting all at the same time. Without a shadow, you can't tell what time of day it is. Without a shadow, you can't escape the heat of the sun. Without a shadow, many question if you are even human. Yet, shadows inspire the deepest fears, darkest of secrets, and most horrifying of realities. It is within the shadows that Vampires find sanctuary and imprisonment, safety and death. The Shadow Realm is where the worst of the shadows live, it's residents a horde of terror and misunderstanding.
Hanei couldn't think of any of these things, except for one thing: the shadow he lived in. Both in his previous life and now in undeath, he knew nothing but the shadow. The shadow of the Masquerade, the shadow of the Tytonidae, and the shadow of Mother Death hanging over him, choking him and yet making him dependent upon them to breathe. This wasn't an existence, it was an extended torture. So Hanei, also known as Johnathon Kelvin Anders, chased the shadow, intent on destroying it, but only being played with as he tried.
Mother Death was cackling, mocking him with an echoing hollow laugh that seethed him deeper than the skin, deeper than the flesh, deeper than the mind, deeper than the bone. It penetrated his soul, with an irritating, excruciating, infuriating, enraging pain that let out a Beast within him, an animal that was desperate to slay and flay it's tormentor, at any and all costs. All he cared about was fulfilling his Path, the Path of the Killer.
But even as he ran after her, from tree to tree, believing he was getting closer but not, something was happening. His vision, as if his eyes were covered by a cloth with a picture on it, was beginning to shift, alter, and change. He couldn't really tell at first, for he saw himself running from tree to tree, then saw himself slowing down, and eventually stopping. It wasn't that he thought he could see himself, he was actually able to, like he wasn't within his own body.
Curious, he attempted to reach forward, and he saw himself reach forward. He attempted to raise his left leg, and his left leg went up. He reached into his pocket, and saw himself do the same, but he didn't find anything and stopped, while the vision of himself seemed to grasp something and pull it out of his pocket. It was a knife, a knife he knew well-it was the one he had killed Alanoth with.The one that appeared to be normal in just about every way, but was purportedly made of Iridium. No, that couldn't be right, he had thrown it into the sewers, and hadn't seen it in weeks, months! How did he suddenly have it now?
He didn't get much of a chance to answer himself, as his vision seemed to fade, and suddenly he wasn't watching himself. Instead, he could see through his own eyes, and what he saw both infuriated and horriffied him. Somehow, without even knowing it, he had stopped running, and furthermore he was back where he had started. Only, he wasn't in front of Jezebel, he was behind her. And she wasn't moving, not even the subtle movements that came with breathing or swaying in the gentle breeze, she was completely immobile. He had the knife in his hand, raised over the head of the woman he had pleaded with to help him, like he meant to strike her. A voice, one that filled him with more fear and terror than he had ever known his entire existence, whispered in his ear.
Kill her...kill her now, or I will never leave you alone. I will be at your side, in your throat, in your mind, in your heart, in your soul, in every wound and festering illness within your body. I will never leave...
Johnathon had done some research on the Crownet before asking Jezebel to meet him there in the park, and he was certain that Fae did not speak. They never spoke with vampires, they just attacked and attempted to kill them violently and painfully. They never communicated, they never tried, but this one had always done so to Hanei, forcing him to kill, encouraging him to be dependent on it, and to never allow himself a moment's rest. So why was it speaking now? Why didn't it just kill them both if it could?
He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but as an instinctual reaction to not knowing what to do. For a moment he puzzle it out, and thought carefully. Then, he leaned forward towards Jezebel, away from the presence that filled him with enough fear to want to die, and brought the knife with him closer to her. He whispered, as best as he could, allowing his lungs and vocal chords to function without much in the way of inhibiting pain. "Help me...Jezebel...I can't stop..."
Shadows are innocent and natural, below suspicion and above reproach, terrifying and comforting all at the same time. Without a shadow, you can't tell what time of day it is. Without a shadow, you can't escape the heat of the sun. Without a shadow, many question if you are even human. Yet, shadows inspire the deepest fears, darkest of secrets, and most horrifying of realities. It is within the shadows that Vampires find sanctuary and imprisonment, safety and death. The Shadow Realm is where the worst of the shadows live, it's residents a horde of terror and misunderstanding.
Hanei couldn't think of any of these things, except for one thing: the shadow he lived in. Both in his previous life and now in undeath, he knew nothing but the shadow. The shadow of the Masquerade, the shadow of the Tytonidae, and the shadow of Mother Death hanging over him, choking him and yet making him dependent upon them to breathe. This wasn't an existence, it was an extended torture. So Hanei, also known as Johnathon Kelvin Anders, chased the shadow, intent on destroying it, but only being played with as he tried.
Mother Death was cackling, mocking him with an echoing hollow laugh that seethed him deeper than the skin, deeper than the flesh, deeper than the mind, deeper than the bone. It penetrated his soul, with an irritating, excruciating, infuriating, enraging pain that let out a Beast within him, an animal that was desperate to slay and flay it's tormentor, at any and all costs. All he cared about was fulfilling his Path, the Path of the Killer.
But even as he ran after her, from tree to tree, believing he was getting closer but not, something was happening. His vision, as if his eyes were covered by a cloth with a picture on it, was beginning to shift, alter, and change. He couldn't really tell at first, for he saw himself running from tree to tree, then saw himself slowing down, and eventually stopping. It wasn't that he thought he could see himself, he was actually able to, like he wasn't within his own body.
Curious, he attempted to reach forward, and he saw himself reach forward. He attempted to raise his left leg, and his left leg went up. He reached into his pocket, and saw himself do the same, but he didn't find anything and stopped, while the vision of himself seemed to grasp something and pull it out of his pocket. It was a knife, a knife he knew well-it was the one he had killed Alanoth with.The one that appeared to be normal in just about every way, but was purportedly made of Iridium. No, that couldn't be right, he had thrown it into the sewers, and hadn't seen it in weeks, months! How did he suddenly have it now?
He didn't get much of a chance to answer himself, as his vision seemed to fade, and suddenly he wasn't watching himself. Instead, he could see through his own eyes, and what he saw both infuriated and horriffied him. Somehow, without even knowing it, he had stopped running, and furthermore he was back where he had started. Only, he wasn't in front of Jezebel, he was behind her. And she wasn't moving, not even the subtle movements that came with breathing or swaying in the gentle breeze, she was completely immobile. He had the knife in his hand, raised over the head of the woman he had pleaded with to help him, like he meant to strike her. A voice, one that filled him with more fear and terror than he had ever known his entire existence, whispered in his ear.
Kill her...kill her now, or I will never leave you alone. I will be at your side, in your throat, in your mind, in your heart, in your soul, in every wound and festering illness within your body. I will never leave...
Johnathon had done some research on the Crownet before asking Jezebel to meet him there in the park, and he was certain that Fae did not speak. They never spoke with vampires, they just attacked and attempted to kill them violently and painfully. They never communicated, they never tried, but this one had always done so to Hanei, forcing him to kill, encouraging him to be dependent on it, and to never allow himself a moment's rest. So why was it speaking now? Why didn't it just kill them both if it could?
He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but as an instinctual reaction to not knowing what to do. For a moment he puzzle it out, and thought carefully. Then, he leaned forward towards Jezebel, away from the presence that filled him with enough fear to want to die, and brought the knife with him closer to her. He whispered, as best as he could, allowing his lungs and vocal chords to function without much in the way of inhibiting pain. "Help me...Jezebel...I can't stop..."
Immortal ~ Killer ~ Shifter
- Jezebel Tzasun
- Registered User
- Posts: 117
- Joined: 06 Jun 2011, 16:47
- CrowNet Handle: DarkAngel
- Location: Argent Manor
- Contact:
Re: Finding Mother Death [Jezebel]
It was a bittersweet reality; surrounded by the shadows, practically clinging to them in the hopes of surviving yet another day. The shadows offered protection and yet, at any moment, they could rip it away, leaving one to fend for themselves without a second thought. It didn't matter which side you were on, eventually at some point in time, the shadows would abandon you, and it was usually when you needed them the most.
For the most part, there were no sides to be taken when it came to the shadows. Every single one of them relied on the shadows for survival and at times Jez believed the ever twisting, changing shades knew that. Between the ones that responsible for sending others to the Shadow Realm and the shadows themselves, it was surprising to her when anyone knew who their allies were. Then again, most of them were so fickle it was almost laughable. Just about everyone, at some point, if given the right incentive would change sides and rat out someone they once called their friend.
Jez knew all too well, more than she cared to ever show, exactly what he was dealing with. Feeling trapped by some invisible force masquerading itself around as a shadow so that it passes undetected by most people. Then again, she found most people to be completely incompetent anyway, so it was no surprise to her that they didn't recognize the silent cries and pleas for help from those around them. Of course, she was almost certain, that the majority of the population wouldn't even begin to understand how to help someone in his situation, not that she was actually much better. He wanted free, that much she knew for certain, and yet at the same time, the one known as Mother Death had rendered him completely helpless, or at least that's how the woman took it all as being.
“Just slip..Slip away for a bit. Let it take control, even briefly.” The woman urged herself but she knew better than to let that thing back in. Oh no, she knew all too well what would happen if she went back to being like that. Still, the need to help him was there and for the first time in quite some time she found herself torn between what she needed to do and knowing better.
Despite everything she knew, the fact that she needed to move, needed to run the woman couldn't manage it, not even a twitch of a finger still. It reminded her of when she was human, restrained and stuck to a hospital bed because she had tried one too many times to escape by either running away or trying to end her own life. The fact that her body did not obey her silent screams to move was definitely pushing her past being frustrated with the whole situation. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a small bit of movement, she could finally blink. Jez decided to push her luck and see if she could open her mouth. Success! But still, there was something wrong, something eating away at her, screaming at her that she was in danger. Her voice refused to work. Not even the faintest whimper would leave her.
Danger! Danger! Run you fool! She could almost hear the little voice inside her head screaming it at her again and again. Hell, her mind took it a step further and pictured her yelling at herself as if she was too thick to understand, complete with her arms motioning for her to go. It was a comical thing to her and she would have laughed if it had been possible, but sadly, even with all her struggling, a sound still wouldn't leave her. Fear was a strange thing to her. Something she hadn't really experienced even when being hunted down for something stupid, not even when she was in the hospital being informed she was going to die. There hadn't been fear even then and yet now she found herself being consumed by it, swallowed whole.
How did a task that should have been so simple turn out to be so difficult? Everything was spiraling downward and out of control faster than she had imagined to ever be possible. How did it get out of hand so quickly? The woman wasn't sure by then if it was actually fear or the fact that everything had spiraled out of her control so easily. It didn't make any sense to her, not one little bit.
Finally, there was a bit of movement. The woman still couldn't fully leave the spot she was anchored to but at least she could stare up at him. Her eyes wide with a mix of emotions as she just stared up at him, completely aware of the blade and of how things could possibly end. A tiny sound that resembled a faint whine left her. Yes! Another small victory over that evil invisible force that was hell bent on keeping her trapped.
“I have told you time and time again, my dear, I'm not afraid of death. I've greeted it more times than I care to remember and welcomed it each time with open arms.” That tiny woman smiled up at him, yes, she actually smiled. If there was even the slightest chance that her being 'killed' would save him, she was willing to take the chance. “Do it if you must.”
For the most part, there were no sides to be taken when it came to the shadows. Every single one of them relied on the shadows for survival and at times Jez believed the ever twisting, changing shades knew that. Between the ones that responsible for sending others to the Shadow Realm and the shadows themselves, it was surprising to her when anyone knew who their allies were. Then again, most of them were so fickle it was almost laughable. Just about everyone, at some point, if given the right incentive would change sides and rat out someone they once called their friend.
Jez knew all too well, more than she cared to ever show, exactly what he was dealing with. Feeling trapped by some invisible force masquerading itself around as a shadow so that it passes undetected by most people. Then again, she found most people to be completely incompetent anyway, so it was no surprise to her that they didn't recognize the silent cries and pleas for help from those around them. Of course, she was almost certain, that the majority of the population wouldn't even begin to understand how to help someone in his situation, not that she was actually much better. He wanted free, that much she knew for certain, and yet at the same time, the one known as Mother Death had rendered him completely helpless, or at least that's how the woman took it all as being.
“Just slip..Slip away for a bit. Let it take control, even briefly.” The woman urged herself but she knew better than to let that thing back in. Oh no, she knew all too well what would happen if she went back to being like that. Still, the need to help him was there and for the first time in quite some time she found herself torn between what she needed to do and knowing better.
Despite everything she knew, the fact that she needed to move, needed to run the woman couldn't manage it, not even a twitch of a finger still. It reminded her of when she was human, restrained and stuck to a hospital bed because she had tried one too many times to escape by either running away or trying to end her own life. The fact that her body did not obey her silent screams to move was definitely pushing her past being frustrated with the whole situation. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a small bit of movement, she could finally blink. Jez decided to push her luck and see if she could open her mouth. Success! But still, there was something wrong, something eating away at her, screaming at her that she was in danger. Her voice refused to work. Not even the faintest whimper would leave her.
Danger! Danger! Run you fool! She could almost hear the little voice inside her head screaming it at her again and again. Hell, her mind took it a step further and pictured her yelling at herself as if she was too thick to understand, complete with her arms motioning for her to go. It was a comical thing to her and she would have laughed if it had been possible, but sadly, even with all her struggling, a sound still wouldn't leave her. Fear was a strange thing to her. Something she hadn't really experienced even when being hunted down for something stupid, not even when she was in the hospital being informed she was going to die. There hadn't been fear even then and yet now she found herself being consumed by it, swallowed whole.
How did a task that should have been so simple turn out to be so difficult? Everything was spiraling downward and out of control faster than she had imagined to ever be possible. How did it get out of hand so quickly? The woman wasn't sure by then if it was actually fear or the fact that everything had spiraled out of her control so easily. It didn't make any sense to her, not one little bit.
Finally, there was a bit of movement. The woman still couldn't fully leave the spot she was anchored to but at least she could stare up at him. Her eyes wide with a mix of emotions as she just stared up at him, completely aware of the blade and of how things could possibly end. A tiny sound that resembled a faint whine left her. Yes! Another small victory over that evil invisible force that was hell bent on keeping her trapped.
“I have told you time and time again, my dear, I'm not afraid of death. I've greeted it more times than I care to remember and welcomed it each time with open arms.” That tiny woman smiled up at him, yes, she actually smiled. If there was even the slightest chance that her being 'killed' would save him, she was willing to take the chance. “Do it if you must.”
Pretty things made by Claire