Post by Max Pavenic on Aug 4, 2010 21:49:26 GMT
Everything had started out black and white, with a thief and his mark - the simplest equation Max's mind knew - but somewhere along the way the line had gone blurry and he had found himself tumbling down such a dark, forlorn fate that he wasn't still completely able to perceive everything that had happened. She hovered over him now, a vengeful spirit of the dark, the corners of her lips curved slightly as she listened to his words, appearing as curious as a lioness that suddenly witnessed her meal speaking to her and she listened to him, choosing to withhold her deadly nature for the moment merely for the sake of her own amusement. She didn't seem neither offended or amused by Max's challenging words and even through his pain, Max flinched involuntarily when he felt her hand touching the side of his face, as if a lightest touch from her was enough to wound him. Her voice was seemingly gentle and soft when she asked Max why he had thought that she wanted to hurt him, while at the same time, blood - his blood - tarnished her skin with its deep red. Max's breathing was uneven and his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of her answer. She had ripped his neck open as if she was merely opening a pretty bow placed on a gift, feeling no remorse or sympathy over his agony and now she was telling him she didn't want to hurt him? Max's mouth opened slightly, even though he didn't really know how to protest and challenge her words, but she spoke before Max could, telling him how she merely wanted to bring light to his darkness and again, Max was completely stupefied by her words. She was the darkness and there wasn't a speck of luminosity to her apart from her maliciously glowing green eyes. Even Max, a thief and an outcast as he was, had more light within him than the horrible hellish fiend that now purred these ominous words at him, her voice silken and low.
Her expression suddenly shifted and if there had been any traces of doubt within Max's mind about the nature of the creature residing within the girl, they were all gone when he heard her replicating the words he had just heard in his dream. His heart skipped a beat before sinking down his chest, filling him with a cold feeling of dread. She knew. She knew about the dream. Maybe she had even visited it herself, maybe she had spied on it as he had been sleeping, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that she had been able to invade the realm of dreams and Max stared at her, almost forgetting to breathe, his azure eyes wide with fear and disbelief. As vividly as he could recall all the stories his mother had told him about the various creatures that resided both in this world and the next, beings that could shift between the two realms and which, most of the time, only wished to cause harm on the mortals they came upon, he had never been confronted by the supernatural... until he had met the girl. A sudden, natural reaction to panic and fight back gripped his muscles, yet as if in a dream, he was completely unable to act upon the desire and he merely stared, watching as the silver blade moved past his face, shining with the same malevolent light as the girl's dark hair now when the moonlight hit it and even though Max wanted to close his eyes, he forced them to remain open. He was hypnotized by the sight and his head was tilted to the side as he observed his own impending death, how she held the razor up, as if performing some ancient ritual and closed her eyes, bringing the razor closer to herself. Even through his stupor Max grimaced when he saw the sharp metal biting into her tongue, easily cutting a red line along the soft flesh and causing blood to flow freely. She did not so much as even flinch in pain, further just proving the supernatural qualities she now possessed and soon her hands returned to rest on the floor on both sides of his head and Max instinctively attempted to sink into the floor once again, his eyebrows now curved into an expression of desperation and fear. She leaned in closer and Max could see the fresh blood glistening upon her lips, feel her warm breath upon his skin. Max felt as if he had been pulled underwater and everything was surreal, slower, both amplified and toned down at the same time and he found just how troublesome it was to manage something as simple as breathing when the sensation moved in to consume him.
Shadows rushed at him and her poisonous words enveloped his entire being as she told him that she meant only to fulfill her promise, that he had lost the game and the price of the loss was his soul and, along with it, the man himself, too. Max had always been very proud of the fact that he was free of any attachments and that he was his own man, never belonging to anyone any more than a person could claim ownership over the wind, over the never-ending sky that curved above them or over the waves of the sea as they were born and then erased upon finally reaching the shore, yet the demon was claiming ownership over him now and Max knew there was nothing he could do but submit. In his mind he had prayed for God to spare him, to forgive whatever sins he might have committed and promptly forgotten, yet the corridor was filled with nothing but darkness and the ever glowing green eyes still kept staring at him. If God had heard him, He was either too busy with other, more important things, or then He had judged Max already, leaving him to the mercy of the hell beast. He felt the last traces of defiance leaving his body as the sense of utter hopelessness filled him, draining all strength from his muscles and dousing the angry spark that had still dared to linger in his eyes. The being smiled, a bloody, mocking smile and when she leaned in closer, Max diverted his gaze, expecting to feel her fangs ripping into his skin to tear his throat open, to end him and leave his bloody carcass there to be found by some unfortunate individual. He winced, waiting for the pain, but instead he felt something soft brushing against his skin and the wound on his neck, as if the demon was meaning to grace him with a morbid kiss. Max groaned in pain soon after, realizing that she had begun drinking his blood instead and the sensation was both utterly disturbing and agonizingly painful, making him feel as if someone was stabbing him with hundreds of tiny needles at once. She drank deep, her demonic blood mixing with his in the process and Max's fingers froze, as if he was trying to grasp at something, his eyes staring into nothingness. All he could do was to remain paralyzed in his place as he felt his soul, his entire essence and his life force, being sucked out of him, making him feel emptier with each drop of blood that was lapped up by her scarlet tongue.
He had trouble focusing his eyes on the being once she was done with her feasting, but he could see the blood dripping down her chin, snaking down in small red rivers over the pale skin of her neck, as if fresh water had finally rained down on land plagued by draught and several small streams had suddenly emerged, carving new paths across the dust. The expression in Max's eyes was now dull and unresponsive and, as through a haze, he heard her speaking dark words, like intricate carvings on the lid of a black coffin - delicate yet despondent, existing only to serve death and sorrow. He was hers now, bound to her by blood and by his soul which she now held within her pale frame, behind those poisonous eyes of green, trapped like a butterfly behind the glass of a window. Max could stand on the other side of the window, push his hands against the glass and only stare at that which had been so unrighteously robbed from him, completely powerless and unable to reclaim it. She told him her name was Eva and she assured his soul would be safer with her and, connected together by blood as they were, he would come crawling back to her whether he wished it or not. He merely closed his eyes when the girl leaned down and he felt her hot breath upon his skin as she smeared him with the blood that glistened upon her lips, its iron stench hanging heavily over them. Regarding him like a cherished pet, she leaned down once more to place a bloodied kiss over his eyelids and only once Max felt her moving away, did he slowly open his eyes and he had to blink furiously to battle the blood that stung in his eyes.
A thin, pale finger moved in front of his lips as the girl told him to remain silent and Max complied, although he wasn't sure if he had managed to utter one word, had he wished to. He was feeling drained and violated and a cold hollowness now resided within him, an empty spot that simply could not be filled, although feelings of desperation and resentment were quickly making the nothingness their home. He felt the tie around his neck slipping away and then the oppressing, dark presence finally moved away from him, leaving him there on the floor like a discarded toy, a small pool of blood having formed on the floor next to him, the red substance quickly soaking into the texture of the carpet. He could register her opening the door, throwing last amused words at him in Romanian and then the door slid shut after her, leaving Max alone in the darkness, pale tendrils of moonlight illuminating his empty eyes. He lay there for a while, silent and passive before some measure of life seemed to return to his body and the man shifted carefully, wiping blood away from his eyes. The movement of his hand was uncoordinated and lazy at first, travelling over his eyelids and over his cheek as if he was acting through the heavy veil of a dream, but then the gesture became more furious and Max brought his other hand in to rub the blood away from his face, his eyes shut and his teeth gritted together. He wanted to cleanse himself of the poison that burned upon his skin and he sat up on the floor, further using his arms to purge the demonic taint away, red smears contaminating the light-brown canvas of the trench coat as he tried to rub himself clean. Caught in a sudden state of blind panic, the man stumbled up, half-kneeling and half-crawling while a low growl emerged from his throat and he grasped at his dark hair, fingers clawing at his head, as if trying to rip his own skin off.
Fighting furiously against his invisible enemies, Max ended up stumbling to the side and his shoulder collided with the wall next to him, the impact bringing him sitting on the floor again, his breathing heavy and uneven. He remained there, his other hand still grasping his hair while his head bumped against the wall and he pulled his knees closer to his chest, his mouth distorted into a grimace of deep sorrow, while his breathing came in ever slower gasps as the desperation started settling in. Max hit the side of his head forcefully against the wall again, as if hoping that further physical pain would have somehow made him feel better and returned his soul back to him if he just willed it strongly enough. Of course, the only thing he felt was a dull pain and his head collided purposefully with the wall again and again, the wood and metal vibrating with each blow, never making him feel any more complete. Soon the man merely rested his temple against the wall, having calmed down from his blind fit of disgust and anger, eyes tightly shut as his lungs kept drawing in shaky breaths of the heavy air. He sat in the shadows silently, his other hand pressed against the side of his face while his other arm curled around his knees and he huddled there, quiet and unmoving. He allowed his breathing to calm down and his heartbeats slowly returned back to their normal rhythm as he settled down, eyes still closed. As his normal senses started returning back to him, he had to focus on ignoring the irritating twinges of pain that travelled through his entire being. He didn't want them to remind him of how his body still kept going through the motions while inside him nothing resided, leaving him nothing but an empty husk. What was there to see anymore, what was there to care about, what was there to experience? There could be no purpose or joy in life when he had been deprived of his soul and even the occasional, sharp jab of pain felt duller, as if it had lost its true edge along with his essence. The girl had taken it with her and he felt the distance between himself and his soul growing ever wider, filling him with mixed feelings of relief and desperation. How cruel it was that just earlier he had been certain that losing his dignity had been the worst thing he had ever experienced and now... now he didn't even possess any reason to cling to such vanities of the human mind.
Max opened his eyes slowly, blue irises full of desperation and sorrow as he stared at the opposite wall, eyebrows curved upwards while his fingertips travelled endlessly over his forehead. The rational part of him was trying to come up with a plan of action, but the wounds within him were too deep and too disturbing to allow him the luxury of such intricate thinking. Something flashed briefly in the silver moonlight and Max's gaze moved slowly and disinterestedly to regard the source of the disturbance, just to spot something small flying ever closer to him, a dark, winged shadow in front of the pale orb that loomed in the night sky. It moved closer to him and Max allowed his hand slide down the side of his face as he raised his head, mouth now hanging open when the insect fluttered through the air and landed on the wall near him, its thick legs creating an barely audible thud as it clung to the surface. Max tilted his head, failing to breathe as his gaze fixed upon the insect and for a moment he forgot the dull pain that tormented his insides.
A pair of large, dusty wings stretched open and upon the back of the dark moth a distinct shape of a human skull stared back at him, hollow eyes on a pale, skeletal face.
Her expression suddenly shifted and if there had been any traces of doubt within Max's mind about the nature of the creature residing within the girl, they were all gone when he heard her replicating the words he had just heard in his dream. His heart skipped a beat before sinking down his chest, filling him with a cold feeling of dread. She knew. She knew about the dream. Maybe she had even visited it herself, maybe she had spied on it as he had been sleeping, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that she had been able to invade the realm of dreams and Max stared at her, almost forgetting to breathe, his azure eyes wide with fear and disbelief. As vividly as he could recall all the stories his mother had told him about the various creatures that resided both in this world and the next, beings that could shift between the two realms and which, most of the time, only wished to cause harm on the mortals they came upon, he had never been confronted by the supernatural... until he had met the girl. A sudden, natural reaction to panic and fight back gripped his muscles, yet as if in a dream, he was completely unable to act upon the desire and he merely stared, watching as the silver blade moved past his face, shining with the same malevolent light as the girl's dark hair now when the moonlight hit it and even though Max wanted to close his eyes, he forced them to remain open. He was hypnotized by the sight and his head was tilted to the side as he observed his own impending death, how she held the razor up, as if performing some ancient ritual and closed her eyes, bringing the razor closer to herself. Even through his stupor Max grimaced when he saw the sharp metal biting into her tongue, easily cutting a red line along the soft flesh and causing blood to flow freely. She did not so much as even flinch in pain, further just proving the supernatural qualities she now possessed and soon her hands returned to rest on the floor on both sides of his head and Max instinctively attempted to sink into the floor once again, his eyebrows now curved into an expression of desperation and fear. She leaned in closer and Max could see the fresh blood glistening upon her lips, feel her warm breath upon his skin. Max felt as if he had been pulled underwater and everything was surreal, slower, both amplified and toned down at the same time and he found just how troublesome it was to manage something as simple as breathing when the sensation moved in to consume him.
Shadows rushed at him and her poisonous words enveloped his entire being as she told him that she meant only to fulfill her promise, that he had lost the game and the price of the loss was his soul and, along with it, the man himself, too. Max had always been very proud of the fact that he was free of any attachments and that he was his own man, never belonging to anyone any more than a person could claim ownership over the wind, over the never-ending sky that curved above them or over the waves of the sea as they were born and then erased upon finally reaching the shore, yet the demon was claiming ownership over him now and Max knew there was nothing he could do but submit. In his mind he had prayed for God to spare him, to forgive whatever sins he might have committed and promptly forgotten, yet the corridor was filled with nothing but darkness and the ever glowing green eyes still kept staring at him. If God had heard him, He was either too busy with other, more important things, or then He had judged Max already, leaving him to the mercy of the hell beast. He felt the last traces of defiance leaving his body as the sense of utter hopelessness filled him, draining all strength from his muscles and dousing the angry spark that had still dared to linger in his eyes. The being smiled, a bloody, mocking smile and when she leaned in closer, Max diverted his gaze, expecting to feel her fangs ripping into his skin to tear his throat open, to end him and leave his bloody carcass there to be found by some unfortunate individual. He winced, waiting for the pain, but instead he felt something soft brushing against his skin and the wound on his neck, as if the demon was meaning to grace him with a morbid kiss. Max groaned in pain soon after, realizing that she had begun drinking his blood instead and the sensation was both utterly disturbing and agonizingly painful, making him feel as if someone was stabbing him with hundreds of tiny needles at once. She drank deep, her demonic blood mixing with his in the process and Max's fingers froze, as if he was trying to grasp at something, his eyes staring into nothingness. All he could do was to remain paralyzed in his place as he felt his soul, his entire essence and his life force, being sucked out of him, making him feel emptier with each drop of blood that was lapped up by her scarlet tongue.
He had trouble focusing his eyes on the being once she was done with her feasting, but he could see the blood dripping down her chin, snaking down in small red rivers over the pale skin of her neck, as if fresh water had finally rained down on land plagued by draught and several small streams had suddenly emerged, carving new paths across the dust. The expression in Max's eyes was now dull and unresponsive and, as through a haze, he heard her speaking dark words, like intricate carvings on the lid of a black coffin - delicate yet despondent, existing only to serve death and sorrow. He was hers now, bound to her by blood and by his soul which she now held within her pale frame, behind those poisonous eyes of green, trapped like a butterfly behind the glass of a window. Max could stand on the other side of the window, push his hands against the glass and only stare at that which had been so unrighteously robbed from him, completely powerless and unable to reclaim it. She told him her name was Eva and she assured his soul would be safer with her and, connected together by blood as they were, he would come crawling back to her whether he wished it or not. He merely closed his eyes when the girl leaned down and he felt her hot breath upon his skin as she smeared him with the blood that glistened upon her lips, its iron stench hanging heavily over them. Regarding him like a cherished pet, she leaned down once more to place a bloodied kiss over his eyelids and only once Max felt her moving away, did he slowly open his eyes and he had to blink furiously to battle the blood that stung in his eyes.
A thin, pale finger moved in front of his lips as the girl told him to remain silent and Max complied, although he wasn't sure if he had managed to utter one word, had he wished to. He was feeling drained and violated and a cold hollowness now resided within him, an empty spot that simply could not be filled, although feelings of desperation and resentment were quickly making the nothingness their home. He felt the tie around his neck slipping away and then the oppressing, dark presence finally moved away from him, leaving him there on the floor like a discarded toy, a small pool of blood having formed on the floor next to him, the red substance quickly soaking into the texture of the carpet. He could register her opening the door, throwing last amused words at him in Romanian and then the door slid shut after her, leaving Max alone in the darkness, pale tendrils of moonlight illuminating his empty eyes. He lay there for a while, silent and passive before some measure of life seemed to return to his body and the man shifted carefully, wiping blood away from his eyes. The movement of his hand was uncoordinated and lazy at first, travelling over his eyelids and over his cheek as if he was acting through the heavy veil of a dream, but then the gesture became more furious and Max brought his other hand in to rub the blood away from his face, his eyes shut and his teeth gritted together. He wanted to cleanse himself of the poison that burned upon his skin and he sat up on the floor, further using his arms to purge the demonic taint away, red smears contaminating the light-brown canvas of the trench coat as he tried to rub himself clean. Caught in a sudden state of blind panic, the man stumbled up, half-kneeling and half-crawling while a low growl emerged from his throat and he grasped at his dark hair, fingers clawing at his head, as if trying to rip his own skin off.
Fighting furiously against his invisible enemies, Max ended up stumbling to the side and his shoulder collided with the wall next to him, the impact bringing him sitting on the floor again, his breathing heavy and uneven. He remained there, his other hand still grasping his hair while his head bumped against the wall and he pulled his knees closer to his chest, his mouth distorted into a grimace of deep sorrow, while his breathing came in ever slower gasps as the desperation started settling in. Max hit the side of his head forcefully against the wall again, as if hoping that further physical pain would have somehow made him feel better and returned his soul back to him if he just willed it strongly enough. Of course, the only thing he felt was a dull pain and his head collided purposefully with the wall again and again, the wood and metal vibrating with each blow, never making him feel any more complete. Soon the man merely rested his temple against the wall, having calmed down from his blind fit of disgust and anger, eyes tightly shut as his lungs kept drawing in shaky breaths of the heavy air. He sat in the shadows silently, his other hand pressed against the side of his face while his other arm curled around his knees and he huddled there, quiet and unmoving. He allowed his breathing to calm down and his heartbeats slowly returned back to their normal rhythm as he settled down, eyes still closed. As his normal senses started returning back to him, he had to focus on ignoring the irritating twinges of pain that travelled through his entire being. He didn't want them to remind him of how his body still kept going through the motions while inside him nothing resided, leaving him nothing but an empty husk. What was there to see anymore, what was there to care about, what was there to experience? There could be no purpose or joy in life when he had been deprived of his soul and even the occasional, sharp jab of pain felt duller, as if it had lost its true edge along with his essence. The girl had taken it with her and he felt the distance between himself and his soul growing ever wider, filling him with mixed feelings of relief and desperation. How cruel it was that just earlier he had been certain that losing his dignity had been the worst thing he had ever experienced and now... now he didn't even possess any reason to cling to such vanities of the human mind.
Max opened his eyes slowly, blue irises full of desperation and sorrow as he stared at the opposite wall, eyebrows curved upwards while his fingertips travelled endlessly over his forehead. The rational part of him was trying to come up with a plan of action, but the wounds within him were too deep and too disturbing to allow him the luxury of such intricate thinking. Something flashed briefly in the silver moonlight and Max's gaze moved slowly and disinterestedly to regard the source of the disturbance, just to spot something small flying ever closer to him, a dark, winged shadow in front of the pale orb that loomed in the night sky. It moved closer to him and Max allowed his hand slide down the side of his face as he raised his head, mouth now hanging open when the insect fluttered through the air and landed on the wall near him, its thick legs creating an barely audible thud as it clung to the surface. Max tilted his head, failing to breathe as his gaze fixed upon the insect and for a moment he forgot the dull pain that tormented his insides.
A pair of large, dusty wings stretched open and upon the back of the dark moth a distinct shape of a human skull stared back at him, hollow eyes on a pale, skeletal face.
