The murmuring grew in strength; bouncing off of the concrete walls like hysteria moves through a panicked crowd.
Jackson lifted his lantern higher into the darkness of the room, willing whatever force was present to reveal itself. It was pathetic. Futile. A (more)haphazard effort to seize control in a situation quickly spiraling out of our hands.
It was in there with us, standing among our stupified number, whispering madness into our ears.
No one knew what to do. There was nothing any of us could do.
The murmuring reached a cresecendo, unlocking the deepest reservoirs of our depravity, forcing our filthiest, most inhuman thoughts to the forefront of our imaginations.
It would be seconds before we turned on each other; before murder, rape and mayhem consumed us.
I felt the edges of my sanity unhinging.
I watched myself crushing Delilah under the weight of my lust for her, her limp body bucking like a rag doll as I ravaged her.
I heard my jaws gnashing at Jackson's throat, reveling the gouts of blood bubbling out from his avulsed flesh.
I felt myself happy in knowing that my friends were each caught in the throes of their most disgusting fantasies. I wanted to be the object of their greatest perversions.
It was over.
I knew we were done for.
We had dug too deeply into the darkness of the earth and we were never getting out.
The murmuring pelted our minds like a biblical typhoon, surpassing its crescendo with ease.
I began to shamble towards Delilah, my legs propelling me towards my unspeakable fantasy.
My hands reached out for her, my fingers bent and twisted like a crones.
There was no point in resisting. I knew I would fail if I tried, so I gave in, completely.
Then the murmuring stopped.(less)
Like this, rather than their distinct thoughts, what came across his weaving network of links with them were closer to emotional wavelengths, nuances of their thought processes and current state. Though he had no regrets of his connection with Frankenstein forged of their contract from long ago, for the(more) rest of the household--his household...--he preferred this subtle joining of their hearts and minds.
Sharp sparks, twists and turns, branching trails that dispersed into tens of hundreds of threads. To keep track of them all would be a daunting feat, but there was no need. The strongest auras gave way to his most thorough plans, for work and for fun. Undeniably Tao.
Waves not necessarily the calmest, but arguably the most stable, quick and fluid, staying on point to keep track of his comrades at all times. Careful, but not wary, they quietly watched and analyzed all he could see. Like Takeo, they were precise and straightforward, stoic but not uncaring.
Uncertainty of his forgotten past and identity made ripples in the deep pool, but growing perseverance kept him moving forward. At times he lost his footing, wading through the depths, only to right himself soon after. He could expect nothing less from M-21.
Elegance radiated sans relent in his intent behind each word and action, even when snarky quips emerged instead. Flow and ebbs of feigned irritation over doubtless caution. But Regis was a noble, and young as well; he was as honest in his thoughts as he was in his everyday actions.
At times, they were the most alike in the ways they carried themselves. Graceful, poised, stoic, but not indifferent. Blossoming knowledge, power, and maturity melded as she did, a new and greater potential forming each day she interacted with them. And that was Seira J. Loyard.(less)
Ellen fell to the ground crying, she felt pain cutting through her whole body. Her head was spinning, questions swept through her mind.
"Who was he?" Her body was shaking with a mixture of cold and fear. The moon beamed down through the trees making the forest just visible(more).
Ellen slowly rose up from the ground and brushed her knees, she noticed her hands covered in blood. She could feel it slowing dripping down her stomach, but no pain could be felt.
She heard the trees rustling, but there was no wind? Ellen started walking hoping to find a way out of the woods praying she would not come across her attacker. She had never come to these woods before. Stories of the woods circled her school of ghosts. Mostly from the victims of the recent killings. She could have sworn she could hear her parents calling her. That was impossible, she though, they were gone, forever. Ellen had a warm sensation sweep over her body as though the sun had just come out. She stopped for a moment and looked down at her watch. It was 2pm. why is it so dark? Suddenly the trees starting murmuring amongst themselves. The rustling got louder. Ellen panicked, she wanted to run. The trees started moving. Ellen noticed they were rising from the roots and slowly creating a path, A light could be seen, a light like no other, she felt herself fall, but noticed she was still standing. She looked down at the ground and saw her body in a pool of her own blood. She looked back at the path, at the end were her parents, smiling. She was not scared anymore. They had come back for her. She understood now. (less)
There was a city where my village had been. It too looked like it would fall from the cliffs into the sea at the slightest breeze. Low tide stench still rose from the dead fish, the sun still beat down, the labor was still hard, the whispers still hung(more) on the air.
Everything had changed, and nothing.
We stood on the rocks where our journey had begun.
The goddess was still beautiful, but in a different way than she had been before. Her eyes were older, sadder. Her skin was lined faintly, and her hair autumn hair looked more like winter. The power still pulsed beneath her frame, refined, controlled, but as strong as ever.
“You are the god of fear,” she said to me.
“I am what I am,” I whispered.
The sea wind lifted our words from our mouths and flung them back, across the worlds we’d walked together, into the past where I was a child too bumbling and awkward to be of any use on a fishing boat.
“You are not what you were,” she said, and the war sparked again in her eyes. “You remade yourself in my light, here in the very place where we now stand. I asked you then if you would follow me. Will you still?”
“Unto the breaking of the world, though we break it ourselves.”
“Are you the god of fear?”
“I am what I made myself into.”