Don't be afraid as she pulled down the shade
Said theres nothing to fear but the monster is here
So just tell me the time, is it quarter of nine
Since the suns gone away, now the creature will playAnything in Yellow is other player
*From the black mist that was rolling in came Mychal and at his side was a twisted little creature that had leather black skin. Sickly leathery wings a slashing tail and a mouth full of pointed sharp teeth. The teeth seem to chatter as it moved in a figure eight through each striding step that Mychal made. It was no bigger then 3 and half feet tall. When Mychal approached Trillium he had smiled the darkest of grins as his voice leaked out his amusement.* your pleas have reached the ear of your Saviour. How many I save you? Remember this that nothing is free. *He laughed amused by how she looked.*
Hue less eyes, meaning there is no color, they are crystal clear the depths the shadows of her skulls mind, as she glares at the one who cursed her, no Saviour, a creature like herself only powerful for killing another a DEMON, killing as she has done, another predator, she growls, perched atop the wall threatening close to being an animalistic beast blood lust stirring within her, she glares at the imp, the thing a puppy at the masters feet, he and it approaches her that looks she’d like to bite right off his face, her nails splay upon the rock which crumbles under the vicious attacks of her wild mind loose raging inside her skull.
Her pleas, rumbling in her throat….taking no amusement in knowing he is the cause for this …this distress, no, this situation, far more suiting…yes nothing is for free, one can not save something for a price, something they gave someone, like, like this,
She growls not understanding what he wants from her….
Her voice a hollow sounding thing a dagger slashing across the icy tones, freezing the thoughts in place, she hates him.
Price, price? WHAT….I am already suffering a price, you owe me…take your
Curse off of me,
She slithers under her own flesh, hatred burning in her eyes at him a beast within a beast candy coated in flesh of opal with a mantel of darkness
WHAT, is it you want vile male, WHAT....
You'll not get such relief from me. *The imp at his side smiled that mouth full of teeth at her as Mychal stroked its head.* See, Lowly creatures should know their place. And trust me I've gained a few new things sinse I've been away. But for now... *He brought his fingers up and snapped them together. That snap sent a shockwave of power through the air crushing the stone wall as if it was sand and hitting her in the meantime also. He patted the imps head as he left it to be. Her physical form was weakening from that curse along with her mind. He could feel it and that was enough for him. He smiled evilly as he spoke.* you'll know me as Master, Lover, and Father.... After all I must save all my prodigals. *He chuckled as he walked through the hole that he made.*
Her head cants the long hair falling down about the wall cloaking her in its shadows the burnt remains of her garments clinging on with desperate hopes of keeping a mortals frame modestly covered.
She growls again…his words enrage her, make her boil within she is no lap dog, no servant, no Ghoul, she is a predator population control, his fingers snap in her weakened state she can not assume what it is for, the curse horrible for what it has done, she growls and the power smashes into the wall which is beneath her she is not able to break free in time though she does lurch trying to get away from that power, rocks crushing, stones falling to dust, DUST….she falls upon the ground in a heap, gathering herself muscles of sinewy strength flexing and rippling under her opal skin as she crouches long hair coiling about her as if a serpent…her looks a frosty one like the dew within the grass.
Your not my father, he is dead, your not my master, he is gone, your not my lover, I am incapable of it, I am not your Progeny, I am not your toy…I am not yours
She sneers as he walks through the hole…her eyes glancing to the beast…
Take back this curse…I have NOTHING for you…
*Mychal tilted his head then letting it fall back laughing loudly to the night sky. Then his laughter was done in a second. But it was his speed that was so incredible. Not even her staring right at him could see him move. He was there with his fist around her hair and his teeth sinking deep into her flesh. But he didn't drink of her but tore the artery right out of her throat. He spat her flesh from his mouth and watched her life drain away the curse making it faster as he held out his wrist taking his thumb and running it across the wound. Letting the blood swell to the top.* You can feed save your life. Lift the curse or I can force you to feed and save your life and lift the curse. At this point you haven’t the power to escape. *He held his wrist out to her staring at her with his balefire eyes.*
His laughter something some
thing sinful indeed, her mind racing WHY, why is he laughing, is he mocking me, ME, what does he want with me….why.,…why do all the crazy ones come after Me, why can no one just leave her be, why is she always a pawn, a toy…a thing to be pushed about and shown no respect.
She was sitting there in her thoughts, hue less eyes glowing with hatred anger…the curse running through her, muscles trembling, then he has vanished, ALERT her senses flying a mile a second, where IS he…sound waves crashing into her skull bending about a speeding form, NO….no…She growls dodging hand flying to her belt ripping from it the dagger gifted to her from no other then her (in a sense of relation)grandfather HUNTER, for Trillium is a 2nd Gen of that vampire from the dead kingdom.
He grabs at her hair intending to use it for a hand hold, had not Empyreal in their fights done this, the blade flashes the moment he has a hold of her, but not at him knowing his speed be greater then hers, she is weak but not defenceless, for even a plain mortal might put up some sort of a fight in a situation like she is in right now…she lashes out and slices her hair off, leaving a mass of hematite within his hands, as she attempts to get out of his reach at first scrambling then running away what s left of her hair catching the wind she looks now like any other vampire but for her beauty which is pure animalistic like a Gangrel might seem only she is Mulo.
His teeth would snap in the air, closing in on them selves she’s not about to give in so lightly…she goes running for the shadows under the trees hoping to find a place to her advantage...dagger in hand a glaring eye shining a fang hoping to slice into his flesh
*His foot raises then slams in her directions sending the earth it self shredding towards her in a wave of rock and soil. He even snaps his fingers four times sending a wave of strength in the air the range was like that of a shot gun she was going to be hit. But was that all nope, there defiantly was more still to come he had so much more up his sleeves. Seen in his eye's he was not done by far. He raised his arms and from the shadows all around came those tendrils but unlike before these were not out to grab her. Oh, No the hundreds of them were snapping like whips at her with intentions of lashing her with his force. He started to his feet,within his hand a ball of flame that the little imp helps create. It grows and grows till it was as big as his body. He was doing this in a speed greater then her when he had that ball of flame raised he throws it towards her and like a shotgun shell it shredded into hundreds of smaller balls of hellfire. He was taking no prisoners and all his focus was on her.*
His foot slams into the ground as she runs for the cover of the trees racing past the fountain as the EARTH itself shivers trembling with the might he sends through it up heaving itself rolling towards her the sound waves crashing into her skull she hears it coming, can feel the earth moving taking up a position against her it seems, No, no not mother earth, Not the bed to which had served her well in her fledgling years before she realized she was different hiding in the soil during the daylight only to not be able to find that inner peace that state of nothingness others bragged about….No….no mother….it rolls towards her she stumbles dropping crawling, scrambling for purchase upon it…like in a dream she runs but seems to be getting no where, a thought, she leaps hoping to the air will help, levitating she resumes, though she can not just fly away, weak…weakened….no easy escape…
Empyreal….where is he….oh ….HELLFIRE….where is it whips the shadows form too against the maiden of the dead, the flower who finds no rest not even among the dead, they lash out striking her she flinches her body swivelling at the hips compensating for each strike, the tendrils whipping across her opal flesh across the remains of the burnt garments, which shred further, muscles rippling with elegant fluid motions under flesh which is torn ripping under the attacks of the lashes she turns her body as if catching eggs, the moments of the tendrils being taken and carried through past her like she is tossing them aside as if a foe in a fight, not all but many, the damage leaving welts and opening her flesh in places along her thighs and back across biceps and one she takes across the face, it rips open her cheek, she growls in anger frustration, and loathing
The whipping tendrils of the shadows spinning her in the air as she twists and turns deflecting them like she is circled by more then one foe, her hair flying about her, she is an unpainted piece of the yard, everything but her having colour his attacks adds a hue to her figure, water painting on the graces of crimson as blood flows from her wounds which are being dished out.
The ball then comes straight for her, she happens to turn hearing the sound in the air, the air being moves pushed aside by it coming towards her , the heat in the air, she knows it all too well, a cruel smile upon her lips she gives as a tendril comes across her back HELL FIRE, she watches, waits, it breaks up little balls of flame, he thought she would move, no, NO, embrace it something says deep within her, the scorched white tunic and riding breeches all but gone, she is certainly top less, the breeches a head bangers dream, The fire comes she opens her arms the heat waves pushing back her hair,
Empyreal ---she thinks---thinks of his blood on her tongue, feeding, drinking, the beast within her ROARS it leaps up from her belly it grips onto her heart it squeezes it…swallows her …racing through her veins as the Flames race across her flesh past her
It sets her hair on fire along the tips, it scorches and burns places on her flesh, it leaves it raw in places, her left arm, right leg and the one side of her rib cage has third degree burns like what a mortal would suffer, but none the less she took it, the kiss of HELLFIRE
The beast within her pouring hatred into her, a LUST for BLOOD arising if she looked like a beastly animal before now she is ghastly haunted by the hunger, she glares as the tendrils are still attacking and she goes back to deflecting what she can, her feet upon the ground now, she kicks scratches and attacks them back knocking them aside, bending light to avoid them….ANY thing…anything to show she is not going easy
to be continued
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