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Post by Ceraphine Davis on May 19, 2010 14:49:05 GMT -5
( OOC: Thread can be opened up to any good plot ideas or anything of that nature. Just PM me and lemme know. )
Kevala had been out of commission for some time, she had to recover from the gun shot wounds that had been inflicted upon the murder of that little bitch Chantel. Up until now, she had not returned home, and as she pushed her key into the lock, she felt a sense of dread enter her...
She knew what lay on the other side....emptiness.....She had yet to pick up Zeke, wanting to make sure the house was secure before she had to go and deal with Gabriel. No doubt her simple message stating that something had happened and she needed him to take care of Zeke a bit longer had not gone over well.
But none the less, she would burn that bridge when she came to it.
Entering the house, she shut the door and set her eyes to look about the room, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what had happened to Mischa that night......
Then icy hues fell upon the still open journal....an ache starting in her darkened heart.
As she moved over to it, she flipped through the pages, eyes scanning over what was written there, only succeeding in making that ache grow more and more....
There was not much, only one or two entries, and the note goodbye..........
She was not sure why, but in that moment, as she stared at the next empty page in the journal, she grinned, her hand reaching out and picking up the pen that Mischa had undoubtedly used to write her goodbye........
With every end.......there is a new beginning..............
Pulling out that lock of hair she had as a reminder of that night, she taped it carefully into place on the first page, a single date written beneath it and a name....
Chantel Seran
It was satisfying to see it taped there, to know that she had done what she set out to do. It made her feel better despite everything that was going on.
Then with one last look at the journal, she began to write
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Post by Ceraphine Davis on May 19, 2010 16:44:39 GMT -5
ENTRY #1 [/u][/center][/size] I do not know why I feel compelled to write in this blasted thing. To sit and record my every thought, my every dark desire. But I suppose that when you keep it all bottled up, eventually the bottle begins to overflow.
I find myself lately in a rather odd situation, not entirely myself anymore. Yet, as I sit here, looking back over the years, back to the time when my demon ran lose once before, I start to wonder if perhaps this is not the way that I was meant to be.
Is it not I that has been hated since birth? Shunned by my Father and cast aside by a Mother who could not stand the sight of me?
Is there some reason that no matter where I went, no matter how good I behaved, I was still dubbed a monster, a creature, a demon?
I think perhaps there is. I think just maybe that this evil that lurks within me, is not truly a demon, but a part of me that I have held back for far too long.
Where has it gotten me? Nowhere. I am in love with a man who will never love me back, another who will forever have a part of himself he will not share, and I have hurt the only woman that I believe could ever really love me without running away.
It is for her that I have done what I have done. For the child she carried inside of her, the one that Chantel and Uriel Seran took from us. It is for them that I set forth to murder that little bitch.
Though it did not go as I had planned. Mischa had gotten information, stormed the house for Uriel, and in her leaving me a note, I of course hurried to try and stop it. To try and save her.
But as I arrived, there she was, that little blond bitch that had ruined the life I once had. Who had taken everything that made me feel "normal" and destroyed it.
So, I went for her. I could not stop it. I needed to kill her. Needed to make sure that she could never harm another soul on this planet.
The screams...........................
They were heavenly. To feel her pain, her anguish. To force her to feel everything Mischa had felt in that single instant. It was like a drug. One of which I need more.
Once she was done, I hurried to find my Mischa, only to find her in a store, the font of which had been blown to bits, police littered the ground, and there she was, laying on the ground, her body broken, shot up.......
I rushed her to the hospital, my own wounds forgotten ( fucking security guards ) and made certain she was taken care of. I have since called to check on her condition, yet have not gotten the answers I am seeking.
But she is alive, whatever that state may be......
I have learned to hide my darker half from the eyes of those I know. None of them the wiser as to what I have become. This is good. It makes the future for me all that much easier.
But for now I must go. I have a date tonight with a very pretty girl. I wonder...
Shall her screams be as sweet as those of Chantel?[/font][/size] You had to have it all,
Well have you had enough?
You greedy little bastard,
You will get what you deserve.
When all is said and done,
I will be the one to leave you in the misery and hate what you've become. |
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Post by Ceraphine Davis on May 19, 2010 17:04:04 GMT -5
ENTRY #2 [/u][/b][/center] Murder has worn a bangle
Murder has worn a brace
Murder has worn a collar and tie
Murder has worn a smile upon its face
Murder shaves punctiliously
Murder hits the town in a beard
Murder baths often or never at all
Murder can be cleancut or weird
Murder has blossomed in petticoats
Murder has come out in lace
Murder has togged up in rags and filth
Murder can wear any old face
Murder has cavorted with idiots
Murder has flourished among fools
Murder has cultivated genius
Murder makes and breaks all the rules
Murder has been fired from a cannon
Murder has blasted from a gun
Murder has been delivered with rapier and sword
Murder with a nod or a wink or a pun
Murder has come wrapped in parcels
Murder has arrived in the post
Murder has been swallowed with cheese and wine
Murder has been served on toast
Murder has been commited by proxy
Murder has been agreed on by vote
Murder has been sent with roses
Murder with ribbons, kisses and a note
Murder has been done in a fit of rage
On the main street in broad daylight
Murder has been done with an icy calm
In the middle of the night
Murder has been done for money
Murder has been done for a fix
Murder has been done for good reason
Murder has been done for kicks
Murder has often been whitewashed
Murder has been painted black
Murder hired this morning
Has already been given the sack
Murder has languished in gaol
Murder has cried in the dock
Murder has sat in the court's highest seat
Sending innocence to the block
Murder sports a scowl and a bandolier
or a politician's easy grin
Some murder can murder from a distance
As it prattles of morality or sin
Murder has hidden in mountains
Murder has hidden in caves
Murder has hidden in government buildings
A murder not normally brave
Murder feels safe in large numbers
Murder feels good on a hill
Murder likes a uniform and big heavy boots
A patriot's licence to kill
Murder has worn a dog-collar
Murder has carried a book
Murder has worn solumn words and phrases
A sanctimonious look
Murder is fond of information
And has a taperecorder handy to tell
Murder likes statements made in confinement
Murder wants a signature as well
Murder has clubbed with a feather
Murder can stab with a pen
Murder comes to all from little plastic buttons
Pressed by the mildest men
Murder comes in every shape and colour
Murder can be perfumed or smelly
And only one thing can be said for certain
Murder always has a navel on it's belly
Murder has been managed in armour
Murder has hurt in a glove
Murder is like everything human
It has even been done for love [/font][/size] |
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Post by Ceraphine Davis on May 19, 2010 18:20:50 GMT -5
The door to the house slammed open, the glass on the door shattering as it collided with the wall. Stumbling in, Kevala gripped the door frame with a blood hand, leaving a trail of it down the thing as she slid her hand and forced herself forward.
She had pushed herself tonight, had taken on somebody she knew before hand was stronger than she was. But it had its purpose, just like everything. Something she was slowly starting to adapt to.
It had been a hell of a fight, but she had gotten the man down, just outside an abandoned building in the middle of town.
The hard part had been getting him back to her studio. FUCK he had been heavy. But once there, she had made quick work of securing him to make sure that he did not get up again.
That had been 8 hours ago, and his blood was still warm and thick upon her flesh. She had finally grown bored with him, having relieved him of all ten fingers and all ten toes, torturing him with every bit of ability she possessed.
The knife had been useful in cutting his flesh, leaving her mark upon every inch of him.
The pliers had been useful in the removal of his fingernails and a few teeth.....
The bolt cutters....well really no need to explain what those came in handy for, seeing as how the fact that he did not have any fingers or toes upon his death spoke for itself.
It would have been alright on her, had the bastard not died on the table. Forcing her to use her cuffs to zap his ass back to life so she could finish playing with him.
Once that had been taken care of, she had set about using the salt upon his severed appendages.
The screams had been music to her ears. Good thing she sprung for the sound proof room in the back of the studio that was equipped with every security device she could manage.
Soon enough, his emotions had dulled, he had accepted his death was coming and in such she had lost interest in it. Giving a light sigh she had shrugged, grabbed her knives, crawled atop his body and did just as she did to all her victims.........Crossed the blades over his throat and with one swift jerk of each arm she slit his throat.......
Cleaning up had been fairly easy, once of course she got her security guard to haul off the body. She had just needed to clean up the blood, which a little bleach and a mop worked wonders.
That had been two hours ago....and already she could see the sun starting to peek over the horizon. It was good that Zeke was with Nathaniel. It gave her time to do what must be done.
Shutting the door, figuring she would just have to worry about the broken glass later, she made it to her desk, throwing open the journal and taping down a bit of hair she produced from her pocket......
The date and the name recorded, as the bloody smudges were left upon the pages.........
She looked at the pen laying beside it, and with a little yawn, she shook her head. No, that could wait til she awoke in a few hours. For now she needed a shower and a nap....Good thing she didnt need a whole lot of sleep.......
Crawling up the stairs, she went about her life as usual...As though the night before had never happened.......
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Post by Ceraphine Davis on May 21, 2010 13:17:02 GMT -5
ENTRY 3
It has been another long day, another day of putting up with those around me, watching them fight each other like rabid animals for nothing more than he pure sport of fighting each other. It is sickening and it makes my anger spike. Again I find myself with the blood of some other person on my hands. I dont know her name, and I honestly never care to, though I am sure once the body is found, then it will be in all the papers, forcing me to put a personality with the seemingly soulless victim that currently lays in the room..Bleeding onto the tiled floor and begging for her life.
I have not gotten far enough to hear her pleas for death. She still clings to the hope that I will feel some form of warmth in my heart for her condition and release her. She is a fool, but that just makes me all the more determined to handle the matter with purpose and extreme care.
I hate what I have become, but at the same time I do not see where the harm in killing these people is. They are all sinners, people who have committed some offense in their life that is horrid and they have gone unpunished. I at least know that much...I can feel it, that feeling of pride in getting away with it or regret for what they did......
They don't deserve my mercy and I need their emotions. If not then I will just lose my mind.....I must do what I have to in order to survive, at least for now.
Things are too unstable to be putting myself at the risk of death. Ezekial needs stability before I can let myself go...Until then, and until I have settled myself into the path I know I am going to follow, I must continue with this horrid game.........
I suppose it is time to get back in there. I hear her crying again. Just a few more hours and death should be a welcoming thought for her. [/size] |
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Post by Ceraphine Davis on May 26, 2010 12:39:51 GMT -5
ENTRY #4 [/u][/center] I have nothing left to give
I have found the perfect end
You were made to make it hurt
Disappear into the dirt
Carry me to heaven's arms
Light the way and let me go
Take the time to take my breath
I will end where I began
And I will find the enemy whithin
Because I can feel it crawl beneath my skin
Dear Agony
Just let go of me
Suffer slowly
Is this the way it's got to be?
Dear Agony
Suddenly
The lights go out
Let forever
Drag me down
I will fight for one last breath
I will fight until the end
And I will find the enemy within
Because I can feel it crawl beneath my skin
Dear Agony
Just let go of me
Suffer slowly
Is this the way it's got to be?
Don't bury me
Faceless enemy
I'm so sorry
Is this the way it's gotta be?
Dear Agony
Leave me alone
God let me go
I'm blue and cold
Black sky will burn
Love pull me down
Hate lift me up
Just turn around
There's nothing left
Somewhere far beyond this world
I feel nothing anymore
Dear Agony
Just let go of me
Suffer slowly
Is this the way it's got to be?
Don't bury me
Faceless enemy
I'm so sorry
Is this the way it's gotta be?
Dear Agony
I feel nothing anymore[/font][/i][/size] |
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