#screaming into the void and the void enters my lungs and consumes my entire being from the inside so I just suck the life out of everyone

[crystalxfrost]

To Live or To Die

I gripped my steering wheel tightly, knuckles bone-white with tension, shoulders bunched up and sore. The road spun out endlessly under my tires, a strip of slick black silk painted with bold yellow lines. My eyes noticed and then promptly ignored the beauty of the dark-washed scenery around me; there was only one room for one thought in my mind.

I had been at the end of my rope for some time now, but still too much of a coward to just turn out my own lights. I had tried therapy, only for the bitch to laugh and tell me I was beyond help. I had tried talking to the people in my life, but my own parents just shrugged it off. I had even tried drugs and alcohol to drown my depression, but I had found out the hard way that it wasn't the right road to go down. I had been debating over the best method of my execution when a friend of mine I hadn't heard from in years messaged me out of the blue.

After some very emotional pouring out that left me feeling drained but somewhat relieved, my friend gave me some information that had led me to where I am now, driving down Route 236 in the middle of the night. She had told me to come to the beginning of the highway and just drive and think about my feelings and my depression, let it really take me over. Then, she'd said, that's when SHE would come and make it all better.

I remember pressing her on who SHE was, but she wouldn't tell me. She just said that SHE would come only when I was at the very very end and couldn't stand it anymore and that SHE would take all the hurt away. She had made it abundantly clear that for the entire time SHE was with me, I was not to look at her or I would belong to her. As long as I kept my eyes away, I would be fine...I would be healed. Desperate for any relief from the impending shadow of my own death, I had agreed.

I scoured the shadowed landscape around me for any sign of movement but saw nothing. My fingers clenched even tighter as hot tears prickled behind my eyes and my chest hitched, and suddenly I was bawling out loud, great big gasping sobs that racked my body and forced me to struggle for breath. I pulled over blindly on the side of the highway, threw the car in park, buried my face in my hands and just openly sobbed. It was like expressing poison from a snake bite; an enormous weight lifted off my chest in a flood of emotional downpour as I cried out every bit of hurt I'd ever struggled to push down.

In the midst of my sobs, the temperature in my car dropped noticeably, and even in the dry heat of the desert summer, goosebumps rose to prominence on my arms. A cold chill wormed its way up my spine and between my shoulderblades with an icy fingertip and my breath hung in the air like frozen crystal vapors. Then the voice spoke from behind me, murmuring soft things I could almost hear.

Immediately my hair stood on end. The voice, which I had been somewhat expecting to be deep and powerful, was little more than a high-pitched whisper of breath that drifted to my ears from somewhere beyond my vision. But it felt...wrong. My entire being screamed at me to not turn around, not to lay my eyes on whatever was currently occupying my back seat because to do so would mean the instant loss of whatever sanity I had left. And all at once, I knew that SHE had come.

As if in response to my mental acknowledgement of the heavy presence, a soft breath drifted to my ears, but with it came the sickening stench of a thousand rotting corpses under a blanket of desert sun, and I was unable to stop myself. I threw open the car door and emptied the last three days worth of food from my stomach in a splatter on the pavement.

After my stomach had settled, the voice came again. "I can taaaaaste your paaaiiin." Then a hiss like an indrawn breath. "What issss it you waaant from meeee? "

I had had a million things to ask, a million points of hurt I wanted to spill, but that all vanished in an instant, leaving only white hot honesty. With tears threatening to fall again, I sighed brokenly. "I want it to stop hurting."

There was silence, followed by a darkly throaty chuckle that made me want to scream. "Isss that all? Coommme. I want to shhhhooowww you sssomethinnng." The back door of my car opened then and I physically felt the oppressive presence leave my aura. Careful to keep my eyes averted, I followed the voice over to the side of the road. I sensed rather than saw her raise an arm and point down into the darkness. "Look theeerrre."

I squinted out into the darkness and was able to barely make out a pair of glowing taillights far down below. With horror I realized that there was no footing there, only an endless void of darkness down a sheer face. I stepped back, a lump in my throat, and turned back for the comfort of my car, but when I turned around, my car was gone.

Sputtering and stammering, I nearly forgot myself then, turning in the general direction of the voice. I managed to catch myself just as a flash of white flickered into and back out of my view. "Where is my car?"

Again I sensed her point down at those suddenly damning twin spots of flame red so far down in the darkness. "That is yoooouuuu down theerre. You drove yourssssself off the cliiiiffff."

"No, no, no, no..." I pressed my hands hard against my ears and squeezed my eyes shut in a weak attempt to block out her lies, but all at once, freezing cold hands were on mine, forcing my hands down to my sides and unblocking my ears, and her rancid breath flooded my nostrils with the odor of rot. I swallowed my gorge and forced my eyes shut even tighter, my friend's warning standing out in stark white against the blank whirling fury of my mind.

"You wanted to die, did you not?!" The voice was no longer a breathy whisper, but a deep roar of monstrous proportions. The force of the voice blew my hair back and showered my face with foul-smelling spittle. I felt the cold hands move up and grip me by my upper arms, and suddenly I knew what was coming next. I struggled to twist away from those freezing cold hands.

"No, please..."

The voice boomed again, "You wanted to die. So DIE!" And with that, I was thrown violently out off the cliff and into the void of darkness. I snapped my eyes open and screamed, covering my face with my arms and fighting to brace for impact, and when it finally came...

...I crashed against the surface and plummeted down underneath the freezing cold water. Disoriented, sore from the impact and still screaming, I clawed my way up to the surface, my scream choking off when I felt the icy hand grip my ankle and pull me down, hold me down under the water. I kicked at the fingers that dug into the tender skin of my ankle but it was like kicking stone. My lungs burned in my chest and I felt myself start to gray out. My vision went dark, and I opened my mouth to scream. The water poured down my throat and into my lungs, and just as my lungs felt like they were about to explode...

...I was hauled out of the water by more hands I couldn't see, which pulled me to my feet none too gently. I was surrounded by yammering voices, some men and some women, and was soaking wet and gasping for air, but the invisible hands that gripped me forced me along anyway to a wooden pole standing upright all by itself. The voices around me began to clear up even as I felt more hands press my back up against the pole. My hands were then tied behind me with thick rough rope that dug deep and scraped my wrists raw. It was then that I heard the chant begin spreading.

"Burn the witch...burn the witch...burn the witch..."

"Wait...what?!" I cried out, fighting to get free of the ropes that lashed me fast to the hard post behind me, to no avail. "I'm not a witch!"

"Tha's wot they all say," an invisible woman's voice jeered in my ear. "But yer a witch just as clear as I c'n see ya. 'n guess wot? Yer goin ta buuuuurn." The voices around me melted back into a wordless clamor...and then I felt the heat and looked down in horror. A flame had already been drawn to life in the pile of wood that now surrounded my feet, and the yellow-red tongues climbed higher, licking at my feet hungrily. I screamed in pain as my pants caught fire and my skin began to bubble and char as the fabric seared to my very flesh. In mere moments I was reduced to helpless agony as I felt my flesh melting off of my bones, leaving huge exposed sections of sinewy muscle and bone for the fire to take. And still the voices clamored on.

It was when my hair caught fire and my face begin to first grow warm, then melt into liquid puddles of pulpy flesh, that I found a new voice, carried on new waves of fresh pain. The flames consumed my entire body, and as I felt myself dying and was ready to give in to the sweet release of death...

...the car blared its horn as it missed me by a hair, goddamn asshole city drivers. I was no longer wet, nor on fire, but I was terrified nonetheless. I scanned my surroundings wildly but saw only a busy street filled with the hustle and bustle of the city's nightlife. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so I took a few seconds to prepare myself for whatever horrible thing might happen next.

A footstep next to me made me jerk wildly, and I glanced up to see a large man in a mask staring down at me where I was sitting. That in itself wasn't terrible. What made it much worse was the dark empty tunnel of the gun barrel that was pointed directly at my forehead. The man pulled the hammer back slowly, and when I heard the bullet enter the chamber, I froze.

"Please..." I breathed, every muscle as taut as wire. "Please...don't kill me."

The man's eyes remained locked on mine. His breathing came heavy and ragged, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and gravelly. "Do exactly what I say and I'll let you live." I let out a shaky whimper as he gripped my arm and forced me to my feet, then propelled me into the nearest dark doorway. The next thing I knew, he was on me then, grunting like a beast in heat.

The hand with the gun stayed pointed at my head while the man pushed me down with the other hand onto the hard concrete floor. I struggled to get away, but the icy hands once again gripped me by the shoulders and pinned my legs apart, through the floor somehow, and I found myself powerless to move. The man straddled me then, dripping sweat onto me as he fumbled clumsily for his knife. Almost teasingly, he snapped the blade out, turning it back and forth a few times so the light caught the silver blade's edge. Then with a few unskilled cuts, he cut through my shirt, my bra and my pants, leaving me only in my underwear. And still the hands held me down, that breathy voice now laughing wickedly in my mind.

The man turned the blade then even as I screamed and fought against the hands that pinned me down and slid the blade underneath the bottom of my underwear. With a sudden sharp jerk, he jabbed me lightly with the blade on the inside of my thigh and I bit back a sob of fear. Then he simply turned the blade again and cut through my underwear, leaving me now fully exposed and powerless to escape.

Thankfully, I blacked out before the man was done, but the torture and abuse was something I'd only ever heard about or read in books. I was used several times in several different ways as the man acted out every one of his depraved fantasies on me, and when he was finally finished and was pulling up his jeans, I looked up at him through swollen eyes from where I lay on the floor, bleeding and bruised, and he returned the look, not one of pity, but of disgust. "You probably liked that, didn't you, you filthy whore?" he growled.

Too weak to move, I simply lay there shivering and aching, and he clicked his tongue in disgust. My vision grayed out even as I felt myself fading out, but was brought back swiftly and in sharp relief by the sound of the gun cocking back. I managed to look back at him again to see that the gun was once more trained on my head.

With all my strength, I whispered through battered and cracked lips, "You said...you...wouldn't kill me...if I did...what you wanted."

The man shrugged. "I lied." I somehow found the strength to scream once more, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Nooo! Please, that's enough! I don't want to die anymore!" The gunshot was deafening in the tiny room and I tensed, waiting for the bullet to tear my skull apart...

...but instead, I found myself standing back on the edge of the cliff in the darkness. I was whole, and not naked, or drowned, or burned, but most of all, I was alive, and never before in my life had I been so happy to be on solid ground. I stumbled back in relief, sobbing openly again but with celebration of my life, and felt the familiar and welcome smooth texture of the door of my car.

The voice came then from somewhere in the darkness, once more that terribly wrong high-pitched whisper. "You no looonnngggeer wish to diiiieee?" Unable to answer, I could only keep my head down. "Tell me noooowww!" the voice whispered demandingly. "Will your life become miiiinnne? Make the chooooiiiccce!"

I shook my head back and forth furiously. "No! Never! I want to live! I want to live!" Sobbing harder, I dropped to my knees, and I felt the icy hand touch me gently on the top of my head.

"Then live you shaaaalll. But jussst know that I will allllwwaayys be watching you. And should you eeeeevvveer decide to taaaakkke your own liiiifffe again, I will be theeerre, and you wiiilll belong to meeeee." The hand drew back. "Now goooo. Go and never eeeevvveer come back!"

I needed no more coaching. I leaped into my car, shoved the key into the ignition and slammed my foot down on the pedal, spinning my tires wildly as I peeled off in the direction I had come earlier that night.

I have heard some say that their guardian angel saved them, sat on their shoulder and protected them from some danger. But what about when all the guardian angels are busy? I still say it was a demon that saved my life that night, that pulled me back from my dark thoughts and made me realize that my life is worth it. And who knows? Maybe if someday another one like me happens to feel like their life is as worthless as I thought mine was, maybe they'll find Route 236, and maybe they'll meet HER too. And maybe, just maybe, they'll be braver than I was.

[yukiwrites]

Death, a Beginning

HELLO YES of course I would write a sequel to A Spark of Life in a Cursed Body the moment Líf was summonable, so HERE WE ARE!! Watch out for the sin, ye who enters!

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Part 1 - Part 2

Líf's cursed body returned to how it had always been before Kiran had briefly sparked life into it. Under the command of Hel, Líf strode to battle the parallel Order of Heroes time and again, his body feeling heavier and heavier as he did so.

His legs felt as though they longed to return to the earth; to go to the eternal sleep Hel robbed him of after his death. After all, that would be preferable than to face Kiran again and again, refusing to look at her in the eyes as they stood on opposite sides of the battlefield. He could feel her piercing gaze burning holes into his body -- it made his chest tighten as though his heart could come back to life by simply being under her scrutinizing observation. He couldn't allow that.

He would hold onto the memory of their shared night together and complete his mission as Hel's Commander until the appointed time.

Yes.

Only until the parallel Alfonse, the one that Kiran should give her love to, pierced Líf's unbeating heart with Fólkvangr. Only then he knew he would be granted the eternal rest his mind craved for, if only to distance itself from the body that clamored to be touched by Kiran again. The body and unresting heart that longed to be watched by her; to be close enough to hear her breathing on his skin.

He wanted her to look at him and only him. But he ran from her gaze, for the pressure his weak, reawakened heart suffered from his overwhelming feelings threatened to make all of his convictions crumble. He wanted her embrace, her touch, her heat, her gaze, her damned fidgeting lock of hair. Oh, vengeful, fickle gods! He had been freed from the pains of the living only to revive them the moment she uttered his forsaken name with that alluring voice of hers.

Each new battle increased the weight of his steps, the piercing gaze of Kiran's making Líf's body waver. The day the army of the dead lost Thrasir was the decisive moment for its Commander.

It was finally time for the sweet release, but not before he did his all to at least fulfill the vow he had made to himself, as wavering as that resolve had become in the past few weeks.

He felt Alfonse's sword dig deep into his chest, a smile inadvertently sprouting under his mask. "This is it, then?" He managed to cough out, the entire body feeling numb.

Alfonse, the young man Líf once had been, pressed his lips into a thin line, as though he was holding back his tears. "I couldn't save you; I'm sorry."

Kiran's muffled sobs sounded behind the prince, her body crumpling to the ground. "A-Alfonse...!" She hiccupped, covering her mouth with both hands, tears endlessly streaming down her cheeks. "I made that promise and yet- yet!" she sniffled between sobs, crawling towards Líf as he was slowly dissolving into countless specks of light.

"Do not apologize, Alfonse." Líf felt his eyelids heavy with the approaching dissolution. He knew in his mind that that was what he wanted, but now that it arrived, he was washed over with regret. "You won. You weren't driven by madness," he huffed to the approaching Kiran, gently touching her soaked cheeks. "You weren't unable to save the ones you love." He whispered, the simple action of speaking turning more and more difficult as his body disintegrated.

Alfonse's chin trembled as he squeezed the hilt of his sword. Sharena sobbed in Eir's embrace, unable to watch the scene any further as Kiran gripped the hand Líf had deposited over her cheek.

"Oh, Al-Alfonse!" The Summoner choked on the word, her vision blurry as more and more of Líf's body was consumed by the specks of blue light. "Don't lea-ve... don't leave me again! I've only just found you..." She squeezed her eyes to shoo away the tears, at least wanting to meet his gaze, but to no avail -- they wouldn't nor couldn't stop.

The words flowed out of her mouth without her knowing, as though they came from her very soul.

Líf widened his eyes, barely the only part of him left to disintegrate, his voice not coming out as he wanted to scream Kiran's name.

Darkness surrounded his very being, not mattering whether his eyes were open or closed.

Eyes? Open? How could the Void allow one to have such thoughts? 

Líf had been released into the nothingness -- he was supposed to have finally, truly, achieved death. So why was he able to form conscious thoughts?

Not only that, but as more time passed, the more he could grow conscious of his own body -- he felt the feeling of his limbs return, the tips of his cold fingers in contact with his pitch-black armor. He felt the compulsion to breathe as though he had never forgotten how to -- and, most of all, he felt the foreign, utterly welcome beat coming from inside his chest.

It was faint and scarce, mayhap only once every a long while, but it was definitely there.

His heart was beating again; too faint for it to belong to a living person, but still too much for a dead, cursed one. It was the sensation he only felt during his hastened stay with Kiran; the hold the curse held on his body, mind and heart had weakened to the point of his entire being clamoring to return to where it belonged: beside Kiran.

His body fought against the death that claimed him, refusing to obey what the mind had decided to be the best course of action.

His heart was beating.

Was he alive? It couldn't be!

The eyes that were too heavy just a moment ago shot open, the breath the lungs took burning his insides for it was still a foreign action.

"You're awake." A familiar, highly unlikely voice spoke from the side. Líf's eyes were still getting used to the surroundings; his vision was blurry as though he were a newborn baby getting used to the outside world.

The former Commander of the dead squeezed his eyes, rubbing them with the back of his hand. "Veronica?" He asked with a groan, shaking his head so as to dispel the thick fog grasping his consciousness.

Thrasir, Líf's second-in-command, stood by the door, her crossed arms signaling her slight annoyance. "I've been awake here for a bit, but there's nothing but an empty corridor. The architecture resembles the ones we've seen on the ancient ruins, but this castle looks brand new."

"How long have you been here?" Líf cleared his throat, overly conscious of how his vocal chords trembled as he spoke.

Thrasir bobbed her head to the sides. "Less than five minutes, I'd wager. You appeared a little after I opened my eyes."

"Minutes?" Líf felt his body move, the muscles he'd forgotten he had stretching as he did so. "You've been defeated weeks before I did. Are we in a world where time flows differently?"

"Weeks? Hm." Thrasir took one hand to her chin in thought. "I didn't wander too far since you were still unconscious, so I can't really tell where we are."

"So we've failed to die yet again? What madness is this?" Líf dared to move his body, getting up with difficulty.

He remembered how that felt.

It was the weight of life that hindered his body. His movements didn't flow effortlessly like they did while he was dead. He needed to use his own energy to move, resulting on his limbs cramping as though they needed lubrication.

He felt... alive. Just barely, as though only a thread connected his cursed body to it, but it was certainly the burden of life that weighed his movements.

Not giving either of them the time to come to terms with the new life shining within their death, an overwhelming presence made itself known just in the corridor next to the room they were in. The raw power it exuded made both of them widen their eyes in shock, unbelieving that such an omnipotent being could exist in any of the worlds.

Startled, the former commanders of the dead reached for their weapons, gluing themselves to the wall to form a plan.

The presence threaded closer to them, uttering no sound from its footsteps.

"Prince and princess of a ruined realm..." An otherworldly voice spoke -- one couldn't tell if it belonged to a man or a woman, for it simply rang in their heads as though it could consume them with but a whisper.

Líf felt the faint beating of his heart speed up, the sensation of being pressured by a world-shattering power one that he hadn't felt ever since his life was taken by Hel's scythe. He gripped Sökkvabekkr in his hands, painfully aware that nothing he could possibly ever do would subjugate the being walking towards them.

Even so, because he didn't know what was its intention, he decided to fight for this draft of life that had been granted to him. If he could be alive again, then...

"Know that the heavens have witnessed your battle." A woman-shaped being walked through the open doors, her palms facing her front as though she could all but summon every single particle in this world to obliterate them if she wished.

Thrasir narrowed her eyes, adjusting her tome on her hand. "And you are?"

The woman lifted her chin to assert her superiority, a smirk sprouting at the corners of her lips. "I am called Thórr. In the eyes of mortals, I am seen as the god of war."

The always pleasant smell of the flowers were already making Kiran feel sick of them. The weather was always good and the flowers were always in full bloom inside Ljósálfheimr, the land of dreams. The Summoner sat by what anyone would call an idyllic hill, surrounded by all sorts of beauty, digging her face between her knees, holding her legs as she sighed.

An unidentified amount of time had passed since Líf's demise. To be more precise, a little over six weeks had gone by before Kiran found herself trapped inside the land of dreams, and ever since then, she couldn't tell day from night; weeks from months.

Though that had been the case ever since she witnessed Líf disappear right within her grasp -- time felt meaningless. Even now, in Ljósálfheimr, good and bad dreams seemed to avoid her: both dökkálfar and ljósálfar steered clear of her, as though she were either invisible or inconsequential to their agendas. She saw a few nightmares roaming about, destroying anything they touched, but she barely felt any compulsion to stay away from them.

She just watched as everything happened to her or around her, her own life turning into that of a passive agent: waiting. Simply... waiting.

Kiran had cried until she had no more tears left before she sniffed Hel out of existence with her enhanced Breidablik -- and yet, the void inside her chest ate away at herself with each passing day, refusing to allow her to be whole again after she had truly experienced the happiness she had always sought.

Her world had turned grey, little by little, little by little. Even now, the land of dreams looked dull, the myriad of flowers she used as cushion doing nothing to faze the heart that had given up on trying.

Even the nature of Ljósálfheimr -- one that would show those the dreams they wanted -- could barely scratch the surface of what Kiran truly needed. Whenever her mind wandered to the only one that could bring color back to her eyes, the world would show phantoms of her and Líf walking hand in hand, smiling happily.

It would show her scenes that had never happened before -- at least, not during this time. It showed her pulling him along towards a garden she had found and was eager to show him, followed by the both of them tripping and rolling down a hill, dissolving in laughter at the bottom. The Líf in the memory was the Alfonse he had been before the curse took ahold of him, though they still shared the same loving gaze when directed towards herself. The images of the cursed and the live man would overlap, showing Kiran the passionate night they had shared together before he had practically ran away from her in shame.

"Enough," Kiran covered her face with both hands, quivering her brow as her heart ached. "These aren't good dreams at all..." she choked a soundless sob, though her eyes remained dry since a long while ago.

Not even when a dökkálfar found her did the nightmares they showed manage to rattle her heart -- so what if they kept repeating the day she last touched Líf in a desperate attempt to keep him whole? Her own mind already did that at every waking moment (and she had not slept ever since arriving in the land of dreams), so they had no power over her.

Trapped in a world where nightmares snatched scoffs out of her and dreams would slowly chip away the remainder of her shattered heart.

Kiran was tired.

So, so very tired.

With a sleight of hand, she summoned Breidablik, which obediently materialized in her hand within a flash of light. The ancient weapon hadn't worked at all ever since she first set foot into Ljósálfheimr, no matter how many times she charged it.

As she stared holes at the fancy-looking gun, her chin trembled. A dream started to dance in front of her, showing happy moments of herself and the Alfonse Líf had been in the past. They were always laughing, their hands never apart from each other.

The thoughts of that Kiran flowed into her from time to time, showing her that there plans of ring-exchanging in the near future... One that never came after Hel invaded.

"... enough...!" Kiran's vision blurred as she slammed the weapon on the ground, scattering petals and disturbing the dream, though being unable to stop it entirely.

She thought she had no more tears to cry.

She thought she could finally at least allow her own self to breathe without hacking a sob and burning her throat with her cries.

Oh, vengeful, fickle gods! She thought she could simply exist without confronting all this pain!

"If only I could-" she sniffled, large teardrops flowing out of her eyes, "if only I could choose which Hero would come next... I would've taken the you from a moment after we became one. It would've been the you who whispered how much you loved me in the stupor of the moment, thinking I hadn't heard you." On her knees and pressing Breidablik on the ground with every ounce of strength she had, Kiran felt the tears trickling down her nose towards the weapon. "Even though I know those words were meant for her," Kiran bobbed her head to herself of the dream, smiling happily at her Alfonse, "I would've still chosen that you." She sobbed, her entire body shaking with grief as she lowered her head to rest it on Breidablik. "Oh, Alfonse!"

The moment her skin and tears touched the ancient weapon, a blinding flash of light emanated from it, engulfing its entirety.

Startled, Kiran fell on her behind, watching as Breidablik levitated and floated just a bit overhead, pointing towards the place the dream was repeating itself as though it were a damaged video file. The Summoner's eyes widened as the light started to focus on the muzzle, redying itself to shoot.

A summoning?!

Thórr and Loki had proposed Thrasir and Líf to join their ranks simply because they had struggled until long after they had failed -- not because they had even gotten closer to winning.

"Was it your power that brought a whisper of life back into us?" Líf asked before he could give his answer, one hand silently clutching his feeble heart.

The god of war simply smirked, ultimately remaining silent. That stole a snicker from the god of mischief beside her. "Isn't she a delight? It's always so amusing to watch her deal with her subjects."

"Subject..." Líf and Thrasir exchanged glances, the answer already etched into their hearts. The former Commander of the dead took a step forward, looking down at the god of war's short stature, though aware that that form was far from her real one. "Thórr, you have my word. I will bind myself to your contract. I will fight for you."

Thrasir nodded beside him, while Thórr’s expression remained impassive, her chin always hanging upwards proudly. Before Líf opened his mouth again, the corners of her lips went up, as though anticipating his words.

"But remember this: I will not bind myself to you for all eternity. I will free myself from you -- I'll serve as proof that the arrogance of the gods has its bounds." He narrowed his eyes menacingly. "I vow this not only for myself, but for another..." He lost his voice by the end of the sentence, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"You are an exemplar Prince." Thórr opened her arms, giving a nod as a greeting of her newest General. Líf barely had the time to reciprocate the gesture before Thórr spoke again, her eyes trailing to someplace above his shoulder. "Perhaps this vow might be fulfilled sooner than one would expect." Her smile grew to the point that it almost went from ear to ear, her face contorting into a nightmarish abomination. She looked up to the ceiling, a presence knocking at the borders of that fabricated world she had made solely for this meeting. "I'll allow!" She pointed upwards, prompting the two royals to follow her gesture with a start.

Loki hummed gingerly as reality distorted itself to open a path to the nothingness that surrounded it. "Oh my, she managed to use it even inside Ljósálfheimr? The rate she keeps getting stronger is simply delicious!"

A tiny ball of light shot through the now open hole, unceremoniously flying straight to Líf, piercing his chest and enveloping him in its warm embrace.

"What manner-" Líf looked at himself in confusion, his surroundings enclosed in a blinding white.

"Alfonse-" Thrasir meant to grab him, but by the time her fingers reached where his hand had been a heartbeat ago, he disappeared. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Thórr and Loki smiled in their own way as the distorted hole returned to normal. "Step forward, Princess. Let us watch their next battle..." Thórr turned on her heel towards the endless corridor preceding the room and left with soundless steps. Loki winked at Thrasir before following along.

"Don't worry, dearie, we'll hear from him soon. Very, very soon."

Breidablik shot straight at the fuzzing dream, a blinding light promptly engulfing it and its surroundings, forcing Kiran to cover her eyes.

For the first time in a long, long while, Kiran felt something akin to hope being sparked into her heart. What was that light? Could... could it be?!

Forcing her eyes to see despite the unfading light, Kiran peeked through her fingers to the shadow that made itself seen from within the summoning grounds. The patch of earth surrounding it had been scorched to ashes and the dream had dissipated with the fog, leaving only the silhouette of a befuddled, familiar man.

"Where... am I-" Líf huffed for breath, his body aching due to the brute force throwing him around between worlds. Narrowing his eyes to see within the thinning mist, the now General of the gods looked around in confusion.

Kiran brought both hands to her mouth in shock, her eyes wide with tears still fresh upon her cheeks. "Al-" she hiccupped, her entire body shaking. "Alfonse?"

Hearing the name he had discarded in that wonderful, loving voice made Líf's legs tremble as he searched for the source. A timely gush of wind did away with the mist, lifting petals, hair and capes alike as their eyes finally met after what seemed to be an eternity apart.

The pale sunlight shone on Kiran's tresses, the draft making them dance as time slowed to a halt. He saw her tender hands clutching in shock; her drenched face gleam in wonder; her unbelieving gaze never leaving his own.

Ahh, Líf didn't even realize he had ran towards her until she was already in his arms, her warmth bringing a shocking, dull ache in his limbs and a surge of energy -- his heart that had been beating at long intervals started thumping with the vigor of a living man, his entire body flaming in response.

"Is that- this isn't another dream, is it?! Oh, tell me this is real!" Kiran sobbed by Líf's febrile chest, fumbling her hands without knowing where to put them.

Líf pulled away for but a second -- enough to peel the mask off of his face -- and dove into Kiran's lips.

"Mmph...!" Surprised by the sudden action as she was midway to a sob, Kiran coughed right as Líf inserted his warm tongue into her mouth, cutting the kiss short. "Hak... hahh..." She panted, grabbling around from Líf's chest to his neck, then his scalp.

Pressing his forehead into hers, Líf gasped for air, quite rusty with all this breathing business. "Forgive me, I... I should not have done that-"

"No, no, nonono," Kiran slowly shook her head, digging her nails into his scalp to bring him closer. Their lips brushed against one another, her tongue impatiently peeking out, eagerly seeking his. "Don't... don't apologize for doing this. Not now," she nipped at his lower lip, then bit it and sucked on it, unwilling to move away, "not ever again."

Líf closed his eyes, unable to keep up with the overwhelming weight of his and Kiran's feelings clashing and mingling. He hugged her tender body tightly, binding her entirety to him as he inserted his tongue into her mouth. Her taste stole a hungry groan out of his throat, his entire body throbbing with the desire to be with her.

He sucked into her lips, dove into her mouth and tasted her unique flavor, his hands securely pressing her into him while she wrapped both arms around his neck, tilting her body downwards. Unwilling to part from the kiss, the couple flopped down on the soft flowers while a phenomenon that hadn't happened ever since Kiran arrived unraveled around them: night fell in an instant, its bright stars and moonlight illuminating their eager bodies.

Dissolving their kiss into smaller ones, Líf huffed as he sucked and licked Kiran's lips, his body inadvertently moving back and forth as her own accompanied from below him.

"Hold me, Alfonse- hold me-" she cupped his face so they could look each other in the eyes. She saw that his red brimmed with life; a warm light deep within glinting with desire. "Show me that this is truly real..." She pecked his lips, pulling him closer so she could kiss his cheeks, then ear and hair.

Inebriated with her taste, warmth and appetite, Líf reciprocated her gestures -- a trail of kisses starting from her lips went down to her cheeks, ear, then to her neck and collarbone. As Kiran moved her hands to grasp Líf's hair, the General slowly stopped, his own, large, hands taking hers out of him so he could lift his body upwards.

Lying down in the middle of his spread knees and watching him tilt his body backwards to as to strip himself of his gloves and cape made Kiran gulp and rub her legs in anticipation.

His red eyes shone in the dim moonlight -- and to be the recipient of such deep, unfazing desire made the Summoner's whole body shiver. Líf placed his mantle on the space right beside Kiran, dutifully claiming her back into his arms to move her to the softer surface before once again diving into a passionate kiss. The Summoner arched her back eagerly as Líf trailed his hands down to her thighs, squishing them between his fingers in delight, reminding himself of how her soft skin felt. He lowered his touch to the back of her knees, pulling her legs upwards and spreading them in front of him as she promptly wrapped them around his waist.

"Kiran, oh, my Kiran..." he bemoaned as he felt her hips moved up and down close to his own, enticing him to hell and back. He took delight in tasting every inch of her skin, kissing and sucking his trail from her lips to her cleavage, leaving marks in his wake. He groped her breasts under her thin tank top, huffing in pleasure as he was once again reminded of how she usually went without a bra.

"Eek-ah...!" Kiran felt a jolt of sensations as his cold yet warm hands lifted her top to reveal her bare chest, her nipples hardening immediately under his touch. Her inebriating voice fogged Líf eyes -- moved by the primal urge to claim the woman he loved, he could barely keep himself from biting the softness of her areolas as he carefully ground them with his teeth.

Another zap of pleasure flooded Kiran's body as Líf licked and sucked on one nipple while rubbing the other one between his fingers. She arched her back upwards, urging him to continue; to take all of herself to him -- to fill her insides with all of him. Panting, Kiran took one hand to her mouth to muffle her moans while the other dug into Líf's head.

Líf felt that he was slowly but surely going crazy -- he rolled his eyes in pleasure as she rubbed her inner thighs into his throbbing erection, hidden within his pants. The taste of her body was immensely different than when he was still dead.

It was addicting.

He wanted to kiss and lick every part of her body and call her his own.

Her bashful, muffled moans echoed inside his head, louder and louder the hungrier his mouth was, filling his entire being with the sole need of pleasing her and uniting with her.

Under Líf's mouth, Kiran's entire body trembled -- she felt the fire of climax hover around her cells, simply looking down at her and refusing to come while it didn't have what it truly wanted; what it truly needed.

"...ease-" She choked a huff, breathing heavily. "P-please, give it to me- I can't-" she rubbed her already wet underwear over his erection -- it was so hard! Was it always that way? Oh, she needed to know -- biting her lower lip in anticipation.

Líf squeezed his eyes shut with the wave of desire that came from her words, wanting more than anything to shove it all in and bring them both the pleasure they wanted.

But he was so hungry.

He was so very hungry for her.

He wanted, he needed, he craved for her taste.

Once again he trailed down his mouth. Towards her bellybutton, then hips and finally reaching her inner thighs. He lifted her miniskirt and pulled down her underwear, tossing it somewhere behind him as he licked his lips in anticipation for his meal.

Spreading her labia to reveal her moist insides, Líf readily dove into her vulva, sucking into her clit with unparalleled thirst.

"Ah-ahh...!" Kiran squeezed her eyes in pleasure, digging her nails into Líf's scalp. She felt the fire of climax spread through her legs towards her innards, enveloping her heart in a hot embrace. The more Líf drank from her, the wetter she became, and the closer climax loomed into her insides, shaking her very core.

Feeling her vaginal opening twitch endlessly with the approaching orgasm, Líf stole a look at her from his position, immediately closing one eye for his erection hurt with lust.

Her flushed face; her shut eyes, her gaping mouth.

Líf wanted it all. He had it all.

She was his.

And he was hers.

"My one and only," he kissed her inner thighs, trailing his lips until her calf as he pulled her closer to him, placing her legs over his shoulder. 

Panting, Kiran's vision was blurry with the approaching orgasm -- she needed just a little bit more to grasp it when Líf stopped his caresses. He freed his bulging erection at last, shuddering a bit when the cold air slapped it before prodding it at her vaginal opening.

"Hahh, hahh..." Kiran huffed, biting her lower lip in anticipation. She hadn't realized she cried tears of pleasure, so no wonder she could barely make out her surroundings. "P-please- give it to me-" she begged once more, rolling her head to the sides in a drunken plea. "I- I... I also love- ahhh...!"

Before she could finish her confession, Líf put it in slowly, enjoying how her inner walls accommodated him once again -- it was as though she had molded herself to him and him only. It was overwhelming to the both of them: Kiran's entire body shook with the orgasm the deeper Líf penetrated until it was all inside; and Líf had to take a moment to blink as his vision had darkened from the rush of emotions and feelings he felt the moment they were finally joined.

Kiran squeezed herself around Líf, her entirety trembling and pulsating as though to keep him inside of her forever. Overwhelmed, Líf slowly bent back down to her, making the penetration feel even deeper to her as she stretched out a long moan.

"I love you," he confessed as he pulled it out with difficulty -- she was sucking him in so much he had to roll his hips to poke at her sensitive spots to allow him out, "I'll always love every bit of you." He slowly put it all back in, enjoying her choked moan as she struggled to handle the pleasure over pleasure she was feeling.

"You- ahh... You stole my-ann..." She tried to speak under his constant rhythm as he went in and out, in and out... He was igniting the fire inside of her once again, not allowing the previous orgasm to cool her down. "My line..."

Líf kissed her cheek and licked her ear as his rhythm accelerated slowly, ever so slowly, driving her crazy. He huffed by her ear, his warm breath tingling on her skin, forcing her to dig her nails onto his back lest she lost herself entirely.

"Only that I, ah, feel that I've beeeen... waiting for you to unlock my heart ah-again..." She sniffled as her body shook with his pounding into her, growing faster and faster. She truly felt that the sole reason for her to be summoned into this world was to meet him; to meet Alfonse as Líf.

It was as though she had a compulsion to be with him the moment they first met; making her soul lurch towards him whenever their eyes met. She was his.

And he was hers.

Líf felt his eyes tingle with emotion, his lower body accelerating his movements to accompany the rush inside his head and heart. "Hahh, hahh... Kiran, my Kiran... it's always been you..." He squeezed his eyes in pleasure, his breathing mingling with hers as their lips brushed on one another within their shared heat.

"Alfonse-" she bemoaned his name over and over again, cupping his head to dive into his kiss at the same time their bodies shook with the climax.

Líf liberated himself inside of her, making Kiran feel the warm fluids streaming down within her amidst the tingling and fogged sensation of the orgasm. Exhausted, the Summoner's hands fell limp on the sides of her head, small moans escaping through her gritted teeth as her insides once again pulsated around Líf.

The General pressed his forehead on hers, his mind a blank while his lower body shuddered, wanting to rise again to claim her until neither of them could take it.

To think that he would only feel complete again after dying and being brought back to life.

It was all so he could meet her again.

It was all so she could meet him again.

Crying tears of pleasure, Kiran held Líf's tender hand that had caressed her cheek and smiled weakly, kissing its palm. She took a short breath to speak, but Líf was faster, resulting in the both of them confessing at the same time:

"I love you." They huffed in the same tone, a wide smile leaving Líf's lips. "Thank you for bringing me back to you."

[emma-nation]

Within You - Bloodbound AU - Chapter 14

Summary: One year after defeating Gaius, the gang has finally found peace… Until a tragic incident awakens the ultimate and most dangerous threat they ever faced.

Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance

Rating: T - Warning for violence and language

Amy

"Congratulations, Bloodkeeper. I had to come and see your accomplishments with my own eyes. In only six weeks you managed to do what I never could, to unite vampires and humans."

Amy stood paralyzed as Rheya entered the box, acting like if she owned the place. She gritted her teeth in anger. How could she be so innocent to believe she was truly gone? Especially upon the perfect scenario she had created for her comeback. One where Rheya could murder thousands of humans and vampires in order to obtain more power. Peace was never her goal. The First Vampire always had a greater purpose in mind, to become a Goddess with powers that could overcome anything, even death.

"Rheya..." she finally spoke. "Get out of here. Now!"

She ignored her, sweeping around the room and observing each one of her friends. She paused at Lysimachus, cocking her head confused.

"Curious..." Rheya furrowed her brows. "How could you survive Demetrius' blood? You were supposed to be dead."

"I guess I had to stay around and watch your downfall," Kamilah's brother answered, "bitch."

The First Vampire replied with a sarcastic smirk before keep moving, watching carefully all her surroundings.

"What are you doing here, Rheya?" Kamilah asked, frowning her face.

"Leave those people out of whatever you're planning," Adrian added. "If you've got anything to deal with us, we can solve it somewhere else."

This time they didn't have a plan, or even a weapon to use against Rheya, but Amy didn't feel intimidated. She felt angry, thirsty for revenge. She could feel that power burning at the depths of her soul, ready to unleash all its strength and defeat that woman once for all.

She walked to the glass, pointed to the crowd and spoke:

"This is how you create peace, Rheya. Not by putting a species above the other, making them believe they're superior. Or by starting an endless cycle of bloodshed and violence. Tonight we both win, humans and vampires."

"You're wrong, Amy," Rheya approached and stood by her side, touching the glass windows. Her eyes were shining red as fresh blood. "Humans started this war, when they killed Demetrius and took my daughter from me."

"You still can change it, you know? You can end this cycle. We can live in peace," Amy tried to reason with her, counting that inside the dark shell, a little bit of humanity remained intact. "Rheya, I'm your granddaughter. I'm a part of Iola and... a part of you."

Rheya grinned and looked at her. Amy gazed deeply into her eyes, diving into them. For the first time she could feel it. The link they shared. The part of Rheya that was running in her veins. The part that screamed for power.

In that moment everything stopped. There was no music or chanting coming from the crowd. All her ears could detected were all those heartbeats... thousands of them. The blood being pumped from their hearts and flowing inside their veins. Their lives... so weak and so fragile. And they all belonged to her.

"Don't fight it," the First Vampire said, "embrace the blood, Amy. Join me and together we can build an era of true peace and reign as the goddesses we are."

"N-No!" Amy resisted those thoughts. "I'm not like you. I won't..."

"Too bad, darling. I don't need you anyways."

Rheya lifted up her arms, ready to take and absorb all those lives. The visions quickly returned to Amy's memory. She needed to act before it was too late. Without thinking twice, she pulled the entire group into a memory void. The only place where Rheya's powers were limited and she was restrained.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rheya angered, noticing the invisible chains holding her down. "So clever, but it's a matter of time until we have to go back to the real world."

"But right now we're in my world, bitch. You'll stay and watch."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was searching for you through my Bloodkeeper abilities the other day and I discovered the truth..." Amy walked behind Rheya, and though she was much taller, she seemed completely vulnerable and small in that moment. "What happened to Iola, Rheya?"

"The Sons Of Ares kidnapped her, making me believe she was dead," some hateful tears filled the First Vampire's eyes. "Depriving me from seeing my own daughter to grow up!"

"You never saw her again?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because I found this inside your memories, something you can't quite remember..."

All of them were taken to a port city in Ancient Greece, where an adult version of Iola walked on the streets in company of her husband and daughter.

"When she turned out to be completely ordinary, the Sons Of Ares simply raised her as one of their own. She lived. She aged. She had a family on her own, until..."

Sounds of slaughter started to be heard, screams of panic and cries for mercy were heard across the streets. The group spotted a familiar figure holding a blade, not sparing a single life that stood his way.

"Die!" Gaius snarled. "Die for the Goddess!"

The flashback appeared so real and close some of her friends drew their weapons, thinking they were being seen and would have to face that man one more time in their lives.

Meanwhile, Iola turned to her husband, pushing their daughter into his arms...

"We need to get onto a ship! Now!"

The three of them rushed for a merchant vessel. Ajax, Iola's husband, was first, hoisting up their daughter, Minerva. A hand grabbed Iola from behind, preventing her from joining her family in safety.

"And where do you think you're going?" The figure was Rheya herself.

"No," Iola tried to plead for her life, "wait, I-"

Before she could even finish, her head was slammed into a wall, crushing it. Blood spilled in the group's direction. Someone let out a horrified scream. In front of them, Iola was lying dead on the ground.

"Pathetic human," Rheya said, before resuming the slaughtering.

Back to the real world, the First Vampire was on her knees completely destroyed.

"No!" She screamed, while she began to sob. "I killed her. My little girl. My baby. I killed her."

"You did," Amy told. "And all these centuries you blamed it on humans, generating so much hate, so much violence."

"Everything I did... everyone I hurt... all of it was a lie. It was me. All along. The monster. The killer. The abomination."

The others stared at the scene in silence, completely shocked.

"Amy," Kamilah threw her one of her daggers, "end this. Kill her now."

Amy grabbed Rheya's hair and pressed the blade against her throat. She could feel through their connection, in that moment she was hurt, broken and scared. There was nothing left inside of the First Vampire, except for a desire of ending her own life.

"Rheya, I'm sorry. You can't change the past and erase all you've done, but... I promise to honor your legacy. There will be peace among humans and vampires, but no lives will be lost in this process, not anymore."

"I still..." Rheya panted hard, barely breathing between her sobs. "I still can bring her back! I still can fix this!"

In a flash, she used her psychic powers to throw Amy across the room with the dagger buried in her stomach. The others immediately reacted. Kamilah lunged forward, only to be hit by a fire blast that sent her flying across the room. Adrian grabbed Rheya from behind attempting to hold her, she entered his mind, causing an intense pain that made him collapse.

"No," Lysimachus threw one of his daggers, preventing her from absorbing Adrian's life. The blade hit the First Vampire's shoulder. She scowled and jerked her hand, trying to force him on his knees. However, it didn't work.

"Demetrius... he's protecting you. How dare he?!"

"Even Demetrius grew tired of your bitchcraft," Katherine stepped forward, whirling her sai.

"Your useless little mortal..." before Rheya could made any moves against her, a ring on Katherine's finger blasted an intense light that involved her as a shield. The Nighthunter successfully stabbed her in the chest.

It didn't affect her much. Rheya pulled out the sai, wincing in pain. She approached the glass again, lifting up her arms and ready to collect all those lives in trade of power.

"I need to stop her," Amy crawled, trying to reach her. She was still weak from the blood loss, yet she managed to stand on her feet. "Rheya... stop..."

"You're not worthy of my genes. Once again, I failed on my creation!" Rheya kicked her legs, making her fall on the ground again. Using the sai removed from her chest, she pointed it to Amy's throat. "Good riddance, granddaughter."

Like a blur moving through the room, somebody managed to tackle Rheya, getting her away from Amy. She lifted up her eyes in time to see...

"You!" The First Vampire grabbed Lily by the neck.

"No!" Amy yelled and tried to hit Rheya with a psychic blast, but she had no strength. She watched as the First Vampire buried the sai directly into Lily's heart. The girl glanced Amy one last time with a small smile on her face, before her body converted into ash.

"Weak as an insect. Her life barely served for my purpose."

Rheya laughed and turned around, ready to return to her mission.

Amy kneeled down, her hands covered by Lily's ashes. Her eyes filled with tears and she started to tremble. In that moment there was no pain or weakness. Something else had ignited inside her. Something ancient, powerful... and terrible. She felt like she was consumed by an intense fire. The wound in her chest healed immediately as the new source of power took over her body. A power deeply moved by anger and loss.

"Rheya," she ordered. "Stop."

----------

Kamilah

"A-Amy..." Kamilah clutched the spot where Rheya hit her with a fire blast. Her chest hurt intensely. She opened her mouth to speak, noticing her wife was completely out of herself. Her eyes were glowing like two fireballs, exactly like Adrian when he took an excessive dose of his serum. "AMY!"

She couldn't hear Kamilah's voice or even notice her presence. Her mind had succumbed to those powers completely.

"She was my best friend," Amy walked in Rheya's direction. "How could you?!"

"Do you understand now, Bloodkeeper?" Rheya said. "How does it feel to lose someone you loved so dearly? Don't you desire enough power to bring her back? Wouldn't you trade all those mortals' lives for your friend's?"

"HOW COULD YOU?!" Amy screamed loud and powerful enough to make the entire box shake. The impact sent Rheya flying against the wall. The girl grabbed her by the neck, exactly like she did to Lily. "I could make it fast and painless as possible but for all you've done, all the pain you caused... you deserve to suffer."

Kamilah couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but she seemed to have entered Rheya's mind causing an excruciating pain inside her skull. The First Vampire attempted to fight for her life, but Amy's influence had weakened her.

"Farewell, Rheya," using her psychic powers, Amy moved Kamilah's dagger back to her hands before slicing her head off her shoulders. In a few seconds, the legendary vampire became nothing but ash. Like Lily, or any other vampires she murdered before. Everyone in the room exchanged glances, trying to process what had just happened.

"It's over," Adrian was the first one to speak. "She's dead. The First Vampire is dead."

"And so is Lily," Jax lamented.

However, Kamilah still could feel her essence, her power lingering in the air seeking for the next host. A body that could accept and embrace all its darkness. Suddenly she saw as it began to surround Amy's body and slowly get absorbed.

"No," Kamilah muttered, forcing herself to her feet. "Amy, y-you did it, my love. You defeated her. Rheya is gone."

There was no answer. Amy approached the glass windows, staring down at the crowd again. This time, her look was hard and completely cold.

"I can do this," she said, staring down at her hands. "I have the power to control, to manipulate, to shape... and the power to create."

The girl waved her hand, making a flower blossom in the middle of the room sparkling with beauty. She fixed her eyes on it, fascinated.

"I can make life! I can bring Lily back. I just... I need more power..."

"Amy, sweetheart," Katherine interrupted. "You're starting to sound exactly like her."

"You don't understand," Amy told her. "I can bring back what you've lost. Katherine, I can bring Ava back to you."

"Amy," Lysimachus shouted, attempting to get her attention. "You don't want to do this. This is unnatural!"

"You... you don't understand. None of you!"

The way Amy spoke those last few words showed how angry she felt about them all. She turned back to the crowd extending her hands, ready to mimic Rheya and draw in all the lives of the thousands of humans below.

"Amy, no!" Kamilah yelled. "Stop. This isn't you!"

"This has always been me, Kamilah," Amy gripped tightly on the dagger she still held. "You just couldn't see it before, because you were blinded by what you call 'love'."

"No, love never blinded me. Actually it made me see clear. Amy, when I met you I could finally find myself again. I could get back what I had long lost. I realized I'm worthy of redemption, love and happiness. We are."

"You once told me love was only a chemical reaction."

"I was wrong and you showed me. Because you have the most beautiful heart I've ever known."

Kamilah closed her eyes and reached out, touching her shoulder. Without any fear Amy would injury her. She knew the real Amy, her Amy was still in there. She wouldn't be capable of hurting her. Ever.

"Come back to me, Amy," she smiled. "I love you. Now we can finally have that future we always dreamed of."

She hesitated for a moment, before a single tear ran across her cheek. Kamilah slowly involved her wife in a tight embrace and she started crying against her shoulder. That dark energy rushed out her body, vanishing in the air.

"This is okay..." upon her wife's desperate sobs, Kamilah couldn't hold her own tears. "Everything will be okay..."

"She killed her. She killed Lily, Kamilah! And I didn't have time to say goodbye or to say how much I loved her. She saved me, even when I treated her so badly."

"Lily knew it. This is why she did it."

The others gathered around them, huddling together exhausted and destroyed from the fight.

"What do we do now?" Amy asked.

"We go home," Kamilah answered, kissing her forehead.

----------

Lysimachus

A few days passed since Lily's death and Rheya's defeat. For the crowd present at the concert, a minor accident happened at one of the VIP boxes. They didn't know about the battle or even about the deaths. Humans and vampires were still in peace. However, for some of them the world seemed to have stopped.

Lysimachus stared at the mirror while finishing to get dressed. He hadn't sleep in days. The adrenaline, the memories of that night made his body unable to get any rest. His dreams were often disturbed by Rheya's presence in the air, just seeking for another opportunity to rise again. Something told him that wouldn't be the last they'd see of the First Vampire.

"I hate funerals," Katherine spoke as she entered the room, wearing a black dress.

"So do I," he said. "Listen, I know this brings you some painful memories. You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"It's okay. I want to be there for Amy, as she has been helping me a lot. Besides, I've been in her shoes. I know how she's feeling."

She squeezed his hand, trying to bring some comfort. Lysimachus turned around and kissed her cheek. Together, they went to Kamilah's penthouse. His sister was alone in the living room, contemplating the streets through the window.

"Hey, sister," Lysimachus squeezed her shoulder. "How are things going?"

"Still the same," Kamilah told. "She's locked inside the bedroom, refuses to leave or even speak to me. I can't get through her. And there's those powers... I fear her emotions will bring them back to surface at any moment. I feel I'm losing her, brother."

Since Lily's death, Amy had been severely depressed. She wouldn't speak to anyone about her grief, refusing to eat or even leave the bedroom. As they opened the door, they found Amy sitting on the bed holding the urn that contained Lily's ashes. She barely noticed their presence until they approached.

"Hello, sweetheart," Katherine sat down by her side, wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders. "How are you?"

"It hurts so much," the tears Amy had been fighting so hard against started to run across her cheeks. "I feel like a part of my soul has been ripped off."

"I know. It will take a while to feel better, probably will never fully heal. But Amy, you don't wanna get into this hole. You have an amazing wife and friends who love you. Most of all, you're strong."

"Yeah," Lysimachus joined them at the bed, "besides, that was what Lily wanted the most. She wanted you to live and be happy."

"Was it? I mean, I'll never know. I-I... I didn't even had a chance to have a final conversation with her. I pushed her away for all these last few weeks."

He sighed. Rheya wasn't the only presence he could feel. Lily was still around, for some reason. From his brief knowledge about his new found powers, she still had something pending that prevented her from moving on.

"What if... what if there's a way for you to say goodbye? If we unite both of our powers, it's possible you can see her one last time."

"Really?" Amy's tearful eyes finally met his, a hint of hope shining on her green irises. "Can we do that?"

"We can try."

Katherine gave him a small and supportive smile, indicating she was leaving the room to grant them some privacy. Lysimachus took a deep breath and held both of Amy's hands firmly.

"Okay..." he told. "First thing, we need to connect our minds."

"Got it," for such a skilled psychic as Amy, that was the easiest thing to do.

Once he felt they were in sync, Lysimachus channeled the powers that came from Demetrius blood. The air suddenly got colder and a heavy wind wrapped around them, taking them both to another level of the mindscape, one that had grounds in the Realm Of Death. When they opened their eyes, both of them were standing in some kind of forest with a dense fog that prevented them to see much further.

"Do you think she's here?" Amy asked, examining her surrounding for any clues.

"I don't know," Lysimachus answered. That place was absolutely creepy and he had no idea of who they could run into by accident. "Do not move. Let's just... focus on her."

"Okay. Come on, Lil. I just wanted to say goodbye."

They both closed their eyes, thinking of Lily and their purpose in there.

When they opened their eyes again, the forest had disappeared, giving space to a completely blank space. Lily was standing in the middle, wearing the same clothes from the night of her death. She opened a grin as soon as she saw them.

"Lily!" Crying, Amy ran straight to her best friend's arms. Lysimachus watched from distance.

"Amy!" Lily also broke down in tears. "Girl, you did it. You defeated Rheya. You're the boss now, baby!"

"But... you died. You died to protect me, even after I was so mean to you."

"I understand. In your place, I'd be probably be mad too. Trust me, I'd never do anything to separate you and Kamilah. You guys are OTP."

"Do you..." Amy took a deep breath to recompose herself. "Do you forgive me?"

"You don't even have to ask," Lily wiped off some tears from her face. "But you gotta promise me one thing okay?"

"Anything."

"First of all, you need training. For your own safety and for all those around you. You have a great potential inside you, Amy, but you need to use it correctly. Then, be happy. Live your life with Kamilah at fullest. And if someday you two have kids, make sure to tell them about their aunt Lily."

Amy let out a laugh followed by some sobs.

"Of course," she hugged Lily again. "I'll make you proud, Lil. And I'll honor you, for the rest of my life. You'll be my best friend forever."

"Forever," Lily grabbed both of Amy's hands squeezing them tightly.

The scenario started to fade, suggesting they didn't have much time longer. Lysimachus gave the girls a signal.

"I love you, Lil. Goodb-"

"No, not a 'goodbye'. It's an 'I see you soon'."

"See you soon."

With Lily's last words of "I love you too", both of them got pulled back to reality.

"Oh man," Lysimachus fought a few tears himself. "That was intense."

"Thank you so much," Amy embraced him. "It was all I needed."

"You're welcome. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, only if we can have this massive party with lots of gaming later. In Lily's honor."

"Sure! We can arrange that."

Katherine and Kamilah were waiting at the living room. Amy greeted them with a smile, looking a lot better than before.

Before they left for Lily's funeral, Lysimachus' spoke in private to his girlfriend:

"So when you will say goodbye? It worked for Amy. Removed a burden from her shoulders."

"Someday," Katherine sighed. "Someday I'll be ready. I let you know."

----------

Kamilah

"No," Kamilah spoke over the phone, rolling her eyes, "I do not wish to model for your new line of hair products."

Amy quietly watched her from the couch. Lily's death had a great impact in her life. She was no longer that usual upbeat and optimistic young woman. Like, Kamilah she decided to stay away from the spotlights and social media for some time. Together they decided it was the best for her protection and for her mental health in that moment.

With the consent of her parents, Kamilah took Amy to her hometown. Being away from New York's never-stopping action and find some peace and quietness could be helpful to restore her mood. They'd be staying on the family's lake house for a few days.

"Oh, #Kamilahshair is also trending on Twitter. Again." Amy's father announced, making the female vampire almost drop her coffee.

"Excuse me?!"

"Your hair is becoming quite famous," Amy said as she sat by her side on the couch. "It's not exclusive for me to worship anymore."

"You know every part of me is exclusively yours, my love," Kamilah placed a kiss on her lips.

From the kitchen, Amy's mother cleared her throat, interrupting the moment. Though she was more tolerant, she still wouldn't accept any affection displays in her house.

"You two are almost as popular as the Twilight couple," Kamilah's father in law continued with his jokes. She learned where her wife had inherited her sense of humor from. "There are fandoms dedicated to your ship, thousands of fanfiction too."

"I don't understand any of these terms, Mr. Parker, but I suppose it's a good thing?"

"Come here to check it out."

Kamilah approached the man, who showed some of the work of their online fans. Some were very pleasant to read but some...

"Oh," Kamilah blushed in embarrassment. "This is... very detailed. And accurate."

"Okay," Mr. Parker closed the browser. "This is more information than I wanted to read."

"Guys!" Amy finally broke into a laugh. Kamilah closed her eyes savoring that moment. It was so good to hear that sound after so many days of silence and tears. "Stop, please."

After finishing breakfast, they returned to the lake house where Kamilah took the moment to appreciate the view in front of her.

"Remember the first time you brought me here? I was so frustrated I'd never be able to enjoy this place in your company during the day."

"Yes, then I showed you how fun it still could be at night. By breaking into the neighbors' hot tube."

"I'm feeling a little criminal today," Kamilah raised a suggestive eyebrow at her wife. "Aren't you?"

"Not really," Amy took a moment to answer. "It's Summer. The kids must be around."

They hadn't shared many romantic moments or any intimacy since the fight against Rheya. The girl turned around and headed back to the house. Kamilah could tell by her voice she was about to cry. She decided to follow her.

"Amy, what's happening? Is it because of Lily?"

"It's more serious than that. Those powers... I can sense them calling for me. Everytime I get angry or sad I feel I'll slip out of control and succumb to darkness again."

Kamilah sighed and joined her wife by the window. She tucked Amy's hair behind her ear and kissed her wet cheek.

"If that happens, I'll be by your side, making sure you'll come back."

"No, Kamilah. You don't understand... I could've killed you! In that moment I felt absolutely nothing. I was consumed by anger and hate."

"We can find a solution..." Kamilah spoke softly in her ear. "Together."

"Actually," Amy moved away from her, "we can't. I think we should follow separate ways for a while. It's the best for both of us."

"Amy..."

"Go back to New York, please. I'll stay here."

"Y-You can't be serious. We've been through so much together."

"I know," Amy approached again, holding both of her hands. "But this is something I must go through alone."

Respecting her wish, Kamilah packed her bags and entered the car. There was no goodbye kiss, Amy briefly waved her hand from the porch and returned inside. She thought it'd be better this way.

Kamilah felt like she had been punched in the stomach. In fact, a punch would've hurt less. All the times her enemies attempted to stake her or even extract her heart still didn't hurt that much. She felt crushed. In the end, Rheya had gotten exactly what she wanted.

"I absolutely hate this place," Kamilah complained inside the car, before starting to drive away.

----------

Amy

At night, Amy walked around the woods surrounding the lake house. She needed to clear off her head. Some kids were having a party somewhere nearby, she watched them from a distance. Only a few years back, she used to be one of them. In Summer, the whole family would reunite in the lake house, where she and her cousins threw great parties that gathered people from all over the town.

Those were good times without vampires, evil villains and sociopaths that wanted to take over the world.

"That's it, Amy. How it always meant to be. You brought back the First Vampire, defeated her and brought an era of peace. But... what now?"

Feeling sad and completely lonely, she stopped by the lake. The night made it appear dark and bottomless. She stared at her own reflection in the water.

"Demetrius, if only you could talk to me again. I could really use some advice."

Being without Kamilah was the last thing she wanted. God, she loved that woman so much. She could spend the eternity by her side and she knew she'd never grow tired or bored, Kamilah made it impossible. They had so many plans for the future, so many dreams... now everything seemed so distant again.

Footsteps behind her made her quickly react and turn around.

"Sorry," Katherine spoke. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here?" Amy asked. "Did Kamilah send you? Because I was very clear when I said I didn't want to see anybody."

"She didn't. Last time I saw her she was drowning in some fancy bourbon with Lysimachus. Actually, that may be the best bourbon I tasted in my entire life."

Amy forced a small smile. Of course Kamilah was drinking. Whenever she was too upset or too happy, alcohol was always present. She gave Katherine a sign to follow her inside the house.

"So," she grabbed the only thing she found inside the fridge, two cans of soda, "why are you here?"

"For a job," Katherine opened the can, drinking some of her soda. "You've been helping me to fight my demons, I'll help you to fight yours."

"How? I mean, there's nothing we can do. Rheya is gone, but her powers are eternal, immortal. They'll always linger in the air, seeking for a compatible target."

"We can't destroy it but we can banish it, and trap it inside of some container."

"And how much is it going to cost?" Amy let out a chuckle. "I mean, you always say your time is precious."

"Nothing," Katherine sighed. "Let's make it a girls night thing. Deal?"

"Deal. Where do we start?"

"Find us a container where we can trap Rheya's essence. I'll be outside preparing the ritual."

Amy searched the bedrooms hoping to find something, but as the house was rarely used in the last few years, there was nothing that could serve. She searched the kitchen's cabinets next, where she grabbed the only thing she thought that was appropriate for the purpose.

"Did you find anything?" Katherine asked while she finished placing some runes in a circle.

"Yes," Amy grinned ear to ear,s what she had in hands. "An empty jar of strawberry jam."

The Nighthunter broke into a laugh.

"Such a decadent ending for a Vampire Goddess, huh?!"

"Exactly. I thought my grandma's cookie jar was still too much for Rheya."

"Great, now give me the jar and stand in the middle of the circle."

Amy did as told. Being the most viable target, Katherine ordered her to attract the powers to herself. The girl bit her lower lip, feeling insecure.

"Are you sure this is safe?" She asked.

"No, it's not. I won't sugarcoat it for you," Katherine replied, bold and direct. "But do you have any other choice?"

She was right. If Amy wanted any chances of having a future by Kamilah's side, her only option was to trap those dark forces forever. She started to think of everything that made her sad, frustrated and especially angry. She remembered Lily. She pretended to desire for those powers to bring her back. She called for them. Suddenly that familiar cold breeze made all al her neck's hair spike up.

"It's here," she warned Katherine. "I can feel it."

"Stay in the circle until I tell you to leave." Katherine focused and started mumbling a few words in an ancient language. Amy could sense it coming closer and closer, starting to wrap around her body like dark tendrils. "Now!"

As Amy left the circle, Katherine switched places with her. The dark fog started to surround her, as if it was scanning for a vulnerability.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not a viable host. It won't get me."

"That's what you think! Rheya was a mortal when Goddess Phampira granted her those powers. Katherine, get out!"

"Only a little longer."

After a few seconds, Katherine opened the jar and the dark force was immediately drained to the container. She quickly closed it, safely sealing it inside.

"Is it... over?" Amy asked in disbelief.

"I think so," Katherine concluded, examining the jar. "Now we must bury it somewhere no one will find."

"There's some rocks by the other side of the lake. Me and my cousins used to bury stuff there all the time. No one ever found them."

"If you say so."

With a shovel and a flashlight, Amy confirmed all their childhood treasures were still there, inside a deep hole among the rocks. She carefully placed the jar in there and covered the hole again.

Both of the women returned to the lake house, where Amy set up a fire outside. They both sat down in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

"You can come back to New York now," Katherine was the first to speak. "For your relationship's sake and mine too, Lysimachus gets really annoying when he drinks."

"He does," Amy laughed in agreement. However, there was something else that still prevented her from running back to her wife. "I can't go back. We banished Rheya's powers that remained loose on the universe, but I carry some of these powers myself too. Look what I did to the Order Of Dawn soldiers. I can lose control again."

"Oh about that, I have some contacts in Japan. There's this psychic vampire named Kano Yoshimasa, he's kind of a legend. You could appeal to him and ask for help with your powers."

"Really? I mean, Kamilah told me the vampires from Japan are far from friendly."

"Sweetheart," Katherine rolled her eyes, "you're kind of their leader now. Want them or not. They will have to accept you in their territory."

"Would you come with me, as some sort of mediator?"

"Okay but..."

Amy knew what the Nighthunter's face meant.

"I'll pay. I've earned more than enough selling details of my life to that movie."

After driving as fast as she could, Amy used her vampire speed to move faster. She didn't have to care anymore if mortals would notice it. With a smile on her face, she knocked the penthouse's door. Her heart pounding anxiously inside her chest.

When Kamilah opened the door, the first thing she did was pull her for a long and passionate kiss.

"Amy," her wife was kinda shocked by her sudden return. "This was quite a surprise."

"I know," she blushed and smiled. "I've got everything solved. Would you come to Japan with me?"

Kamilah took a moment to answer. She involved Amy in her arms, holding her very close to her chest.

"I'll go wherever you go. I'd follow you into hell itself."

----------

Lysimachus

"I thought we had an actual job here," Katherine complained inside the car. "And I only agreed to come because I know these lands."

"Really?" Lysimachus gave her an ironic look. "Or is it because you wanted to be here? It is an actual job, except that my employee is... not alive."

Lysimachus decided to accept Adrian's offer. In a few weeks when he started his campaign, he'd be taking the lead of Raines Corporation. Before that, he would be traveling Japan along his girlfriend and friends. Besides Amy and Kamilah, Jax agreed to follow them too.

Until then, he decided to enjoy his time by doing a few last jobs as a Nighthunter, together with Katherine. Their final stop was at a small town in New Mexico.

"I haven't visited since I left to New Orleans, about ten years ago."

"Come on," he placed a hand on his girlfriend's knee. "She want you to do this."

They left the car and he handed Katherine some flowers.

"Violets," she smiled, touching the petals. "Ava's favorites."

"Yeah, she was very specific."

Together, they followed into the cemetery. Despite the long years, Katherine still knew the way very well. They stopped at Ava's grave. The emptiness suggested no one had visited in a long time.

"Can you give us some privacy?"

"Sure."

Lysimachus sat down at a near bench, observing as Katherine kneeled down to place the flowers and caressed the picture in the tombstone. Then, she closed her eyes for a few minutes, muttering some words.

"Done," she returned to his side. "I told her how I feel, apologized for the millionth time and even said a prayer."

"Are you religious?" He asked. "I didn't know."

"I used to be, a little. Even if my parents..."

"Would you like to visit them?"

"No, we didn't part in good terms. They wished to never see me again. I'm respecting this wish."

Back to the car, Lysimachus couldn't understand how Katherine's parents could be so cruel and abandon her at the most difficult time of her life. No wonder she was so closed about her past and her feelings.

"It's not enough yet," Katherine broke the silence. "I can feel it. What's next?"

"Let me see," Lysimachus was pensive for a moment, remembering all the things he heard Ava's ghost saying. "There's one thing. I think we'll have the perfect opportunity for that."

They arrived in New York just in time for the party to honor Lily's life and to celebrate their next journey in Japan. Everyone was reunited at the Shadow Den bowling station. A few arcades had been installed, as well as a karaoke machine.

"Hey guys," Amy greeted them excited. "I thought you wouldn't be coming."

"Are you kidding?" Lysimachus messed up her hair. "We wouldn't miss it for anything."

"Can I steal Katherine for a minute?"

"Sure."

As soon as they left, Kamilah approached him bringing a drink. She looked happy and relaxed. Things between she and Amy were finally back to normal.

"So brother, are you ready? Have you ever been in Japan before?"

"Once. I must say I faced some trouble. This woman, Aiko Nakamura, wanted to capture me and throw me inside a dungeon. She said I remembered her of somebody she knew."

"Oh," Kamilah nearly choked with her drink for some reason. "I'm sorry about that."

"Anyways," Lysimachus shrugged. "I hope they're more friendly this time."

"And so do I."

Lysimachus reflected about everything they went through in the last couple of years. He let out a laugh.

"Due to our history, I doubt it. Trouble will always find us everywhere we go."

"Exactly. But as long as we're together everything ends up alright."

"To victory," he extended his glass to his sister. "And to family."

"Always," Kamilah clicked her glass against his.

"A minute of your attention please," Amy's voice, coming from the small improvised stage where the karaoke machine was set, got their attention. "To attend a very special request, I'll be singing Party In The USA. And Katherine will be helping me with this one."

A furious and embarrassed Nighthunter emerged from the middle of the crowd, playfully punching Lysimachus' arm.

"What is that?" She asked. "I know you're involved!"

"You said you'd do anything for Ava to move on," he started pushing her in the stage's direction. "Go. She wanted you to sing again."

"I hate you guys..."

"Welcome to the group, Katherine," Kamilah smiled. "I've been there too."

While the twins watched their significant others to playfully sing and dance at the stage, they exchanged one final glance and a smile. Their journey was far from over but after 2000 years of pain, both of them had finally found peace and love.

----------

Note: It's NOT over yet. Stay tuned!

[grimweaver]

A piece from 2011. Bear in mind that a lot of details (too many to list) have been changed since then and I was fresh into writing Elder Scrolls stories at the time. 

----

PART I

It seemed too perfect to exist outside the pages of a storybook; a hillside farm house with a grand view of the Imperial City, not far from the edge of the Upper Niben. It was a piece of country undisturbed by the bothersome ruckus of town, but close enough to the city to make the weekly trip for necessities hassle-free. Aaron was especially ecstatic about the new home, but for his own special reasons. There were more insects and small animals for the young boy to catch and play with, and the nature-enthusiast had a lot of yard explore.

"Remember, this is not at all like the city!" A voice called out from the front porch. "Do not wander too far or out of sight." "Da!" Aaron blasted from where he was playing, not more than a hundred feet away. "I'm ten years old! I'm almost a man!" "Doesn't matter- there are things out here that make an easy meal out of people- boy or man."

"Yeah, and you face them almost every day!"

"Because it's been my job for almost fifteen years now. I have skills and wits that help me survive each encounter."

Indeed. Since the raw age of thirteen his father made a living as a large game hunter. Because he was one of the few that dared to take on an animal twice the size of an average man he was well respected and heavily paid. It didn't hurt that, as one born under the Shadow, he had the ability to make himself invisible for a brief amount of time- that was a valuable power for someone who had to strike his target before it even suspected that it had company. One could say he managed well for a single parent, but because he was alone it was still a struggle in the beginning. But when Aaron was older and experienced enough to share chores and look after himself, it lightened the burden his father had to carry.

Aaron noticed him wincing with a sharp, backwards hiss through his teeth. He abruptly jumped to his feet and raced over to see what he was doing, carrying the large toad he caught in his gentle hands.

After reaching the steps of the the porch he was met with an unexpected and disturbing sight. "Da? What are you doing?"

"Something I've meant to do for a long time." His father's right arm was covered in red marks, which were made by the edge of the dagger he carefully scraped over his skin. But careful or not the bleeding couldn't be avoided. Aaron was shocked and confused by what seemed like an act of insanity. Perhaps being bored out of his mind in the country was what drove him to do it. "And I think you're old enough to understand why I'm doing this."

"Ya, I really hope you do tell me why you're cut'n yerself up! Are ya going crazy?" "No." His father chuckled. "Y'know that this part of my arm was always covered, right? Wrist bands, long sleeves, gloves, gauntlets..." "Yeah, come to think of it." "And you see what I've been covering up, since I haven't finished removing it?" "A... tattoo. But da you have a few others that y'never cover up. Why this one?" "Because this one was a declaration to the world of a commitment and promise."

Aaron was in silent contemplation for a moment, sighing as he watched the remaining black marks on his father's skin turn red. He cringed, not because he was abhorred by wounds, but because he thought about how much the process of removing the tattoo must hurt.

"To ma?" Was all he uttered after being quiet for so long.

His father paused briefly as he looked down at him with his solemn brown eyes, before narrowing his brow and coldly paraphrasing. "To the woman that gave birth to you. There are probably a thousand things one could call her, but 'ma' is not one of them." He continued scraping.

Aaron's brow popped up. Had he been a boy who knew his mother at all he would've been offended by his father's criticism, which seethed with an old contention. But until he learned about how life began he thought Lucien LaChance was the only parent he ever had.

"That's gonna scar bad." Aaron pointed out, half distracted from the subject. "Probably. But it'll be much easier to look at." He smirked as he applied a disinfecting paste to his arm.

"What happened?" He asked, taking his gaze off of Lucien's arm to give him direct eye contact. "Please, da. Like ya said I'm old enough to know... and don't sugar-coat it." "I never have, and I certainly don't intend to now. You deserve the unadulterated truth."

Aaron seated himself on the old wooden chair next to Lucien, waiting attentively for what he believed was going to be a long story. As Lucien began to wrap his arm he searched the sky for his reflection.

"She got into the skooma... and then entered the world that revolved around it. She left us for it... and then it killed her." Was all he said, crunching the entire story down to a few simple sentences. Aaron sighed heavily, petting the toad as he watched it's throat bubble out each time it took in a breath.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Lucien heaved as he slouched back. "It's alright." "We've been doing just fine on our own haven't we? I've tried to be both parents... to give you a happy life..." "I know... yeah everything's fine. I never knew her so... it's not that big'a deal. I'm happy. But are you happy?" Lucien chuckled. "You make me happy, kiddo. I think that I'd be lost in this world without ya." "Aaaw." Aaron made a wry face at his father's 'mushy' words. That's when he decided to change the topic. "So, y'gotta hunt tonight?"

"No, Aaron. It's Sundas. We're going into town." "We?" "Yes, 'we'. You and I." "But what about the goats? Don't ya want me t-" "They'll be fine. I put plenty of food in the trough to keep them happy all day. Go wash up real quick cause if we want to be back before sunset we gotta leave in a few minutes. Alright?" "Sure!"

Aaron bolted through the creaky front door with zeal in his heart. Lucien picked up the toad that was sitting contently on the table in front of him and gave it a quick pat on the head before releasing him into the field.

Lucien did not 'sugar-coat' the story at all, but he withheld lot of details. He did not want to be a man that allowed his past to consume him or anyone else. That is why he decided to finally remove that tattoo, which was a part of a traditional Imperial marriage. He did not want to drown others in the grimy tales of what he had to endure since the night his ex-wife, Rosalla, started behaving strangely. He also avoided telling Aaron that it began shortly after he was born because he knew that the boy would ask if it had anything to do with him, and Lucien would have to answer truthfully. The truth was 'yes'.

No one needs that on their conscience. He thought.

As Lucien waited for Aaron, the memories he struggled to distance himself from lurched out. Memories of Rosalla's mood swings that got worse and more frequent during the five days that followed Aaron's birth; Lucien was verbally and physically assaulted every time he returned from a hunt- she was convinced that 'hunting' was a code word for 'seeing other women'. It wasn't the truth, but the quirky voice in her head told her that it was. The voice also told her that Lucien drank heavily and hit her with the broken leg of a chair, and she distributed those rumors through her equally eccentric friends. Fortunately the people Lucien had to worry about receiving those rumors knew it was a lie, seeing no evidence whatsoever that she was even pinched.

Lucien didn't know it at the time, but this was the first prominent sign that Rosalla was ingesting skooma. If he did he would've been prepared for the next appalling act that happened a week later. He returned one night to a house void of anyone but a very neglected infant. Aaron was crying at the top of his lungs over several things that were not tended to- he was hungry, heavily soiled, cold, and deprived of parental love for what seemed like the entire day. The desperate father rifled through the entire town for help because he did not have the means to feed him. Fortunately Velus of the Merchant's Inn had a good alternative to breast milk and the starving child was finally well fed.

Rosalla's whereabouts and reason for absence was unknown to him for quite some time. After another week, worry promptly turned into fury when she returned. She was not kidnapped, trapped, or harmed in any other way- she was staying in one of the hotel rooms at "The King and Queen Tavern", taking in enough shots of skooma to completely loose sense of time and concern for anything but herself. Lucien demanded an explanation, and that is when she revealed to him the shady life of self abuse that involved not only skooma but lewd activities with groups of men and women that were also lost to the substance. She poured out all of her hatred for the tedious repetition of...

"Eating, baby, cooking, baby, sleeping, baby! No more thrills! No more joy! Just routine!" She screamed.

She did not have Lucien's sympathy. Instead he expressed how disgusted he was by her lack of strength and willpower. He contested with the fact that...

"Everyone has to put up with a long stretch of dull and strenuous routine every now and then! That's life! And it's not like this all the time, you just dwell on nothing but the negative and ignore all the wonderful things that are right there within reach- I ask if you want to go out you pout'n say you don't feel like it! I ask if you want me to stay home and you say you want me to go ahead and get the hell out of the house and leave you alone! You are such a piece of work! And this skooma... and everything you've been doing... God, I thought you were above this! I never thought you were stupid enough to fall into it... do you know what it does.. or what it has done to you!"

It was pointless for Lucien to recount the fact that he didn't leave everything up to her. He helped out around the house when he was able to- but Rosalla stubbornly believed that she did everything and he did nothing. She hardly noted the many nights Lucien got less than two hours of sleep because he offered to lift the baby burdens off of her weary shoulders. But the one thing that made it clear to Lucien that Rosalla was no longer going to be in the picture was the unforgivable act of abandoning the infant. It was not going to take more than one incident to convince him to extinguish her from their lives. So the night that Rosalla returned was also the night he would see her for the last time. Out of fear of harassment Lucien decided to move out of the Waterfront District house and live secretly with Velus and his wife Janine. One month later, imperial legionnaires reported to LaChance that they found Rosalla's body in Bravil.

He felt no remorse.

The first five years did not simply roll by- they sluggishly moved through a horrible grit. Such times in Cyrodiil were unkind to single parents.

But we made it. I don't know how... but we always found a way. Lucien thought. One can get through anything if they have unwavering faith and spiritual endurance.

Lucien did not give up, and keeping his son in mind inspired him to preserver.

[the-truth-behind-redacted]

Red light; Blue light

I shall be treating my writings as an official documentation of events that have happened and those that will. Therefore, I will be writing as if I was reporting information to someone then that of a regular journal. If I make it out of this place, it will be easier and much simpler to turn in this journal than give a full mouth recount. Not only will it be more accurate as I'm writing things down as they happen but it will save time. If I'm to die before I can make it, at least people will have an easy account to read as it was already formatted with the expectation that someone will read it if ever found.

Dear Locket, Entry 1

When I awoke today everything seemed the same but I'm sure it wasn't what it was before. All I can see around me is a vast empty black space as I lay on a solitary purple path. I searched through the assortment of items in a bag attached to my waist with a familiar but unknown language inscribed onto it but I found nothing of use. On my body, I wear a set of crystalline armor of unknown make or build with no marking to suggest who or what made it, where, and how. I've looked through this very journal I write in and found 32 pages worth or writings that I can no longer read or recognize that I know were written by me. What I write now is in the form of strange runic symbols which I do not know how I know or how I can read and speak it. Something had changed, most likely for the worst.

I wracked myself on what happened before I arrived at this void and what I remember only compounds the mystery. The last thing I remember was entering what seemed to be a "castle" constructed from the flesh of the dead and damned. The screams of agony and writhing faces of those just consumed were clear as day as me and a group of soldier I no longer recognize entered. Creatures that looked like a mix of real-world animals and misshapen lumps of gore and teeth bombarded us as we slowly gain ground. The smell of rancid meat, the constant blood dripping from the ceiling, the sound of the shifting flesh, and the stress of the never-ending attack made the experience, and the recollection, terrible.

When we entered well over two hundred of us were together. When we reached the throne about 15 of us remained. Much unlike the rest of the "castle", the throne was something, bearable. Constructed of what seemed like grey marble, great pillars climbed up hundreds of feet. The entire surface of the room was entangled with a red string that reaches the very peak of the room and twisted together to form a massive chandler.  A palpitating chamber loosely hung from the chandler with an amber liquid dripping. At the very back of the room sat a dainty man in a formal black shirt. His pants were a solid black with black shoes. Compared to the solid fleshy red and pink from before, the change to completely black ignoring the strings was a pleasant shift. The relief was short lived.

The enigmatic being spoke at the time gibberish I now know, "I apologize for the bleak chamber. I had little time to prepare this abode. I'm simply here for the final curtain but I did grow weary of the wait. Mind to provide a prelude?" After his words were spoken, the palpitating sack bust and a flood of the amber liquid come down. A small slab of flesh fell and violently flopped on the ground. 12 of us 15 let down our guard while the man spoke and this cost dearly. The flab stopped flopping then quickly expanding letting our more of the red string to go forward. The three of us ready turned on our shields which burned the tentacles that tried to grab us.

Those who weren't on guard were instantly disemboweled and assembled into the slab. The substance those bodies provided created our final challenge for what it was worth. At first, the slab consumed and expanded into a weird ball of flesh, bone, and the metal of the people's armor and weapons then began to take form. Two appendages launched forward and stilted the ball balancing it's unstable "body." It elongated and randomly reorganized it's shape until it favored something. The stilts thickened and plasma claws encased in metal formed at their ends. The clawed flesh lifted the mass up and allowed two more extensions to form underneath the main mass.

The legs coiled and then split 1/4 it's total length to the ground, about a meter. The front part split again and form two hoofed looking feet. The backs at first looked the be just another hoof but a massive metal talon formed at the very back. The to be "arms" positioned themselves properly. The metallic parts at the surface of the unformed mass sunk underneath and a bulk of flesh became the surface. The back then had bone burst out which quickly got covered by flesh and muscle and formed two more outward extensions. Metal then come around and formed a funnel that plasma energy blasted from at first then sealed. As the body finished its shifting it had broad shoulders with an open center. Its center was very dense in muscle and tendons. The flesh moved to a wide open space at its center. A weird jelly looking liquid rushed and filled the core of the tendons and a singular eye with a messy pupil color formed. Plating then quickly covered its body with a strange hatch being created to protect the eye.

An abnormal bone structure came from the top which, as everything before, was then covered in muscles, flesh, then metal. With what little flesh that hadn't found a final form, a head was created. The rushing bone was molded to create first a jaw. It bent upwards allowing an empty space then encased over the top. At the top antlers looking extension went up and created a jagged crown. The flesh moved and finished its head. No eyes or nose were noticeable on the head. It had two mouths, one near its neck and the other as the majority of its face. The one nearest to the neck had jacked outcropping teeth. A long slender bladed tongue loosely hung out. The face mouth caved in with hooks. As it straightened itself on its abnormal legs the lower mouth let out a cackle as the other widen and expanded showing a great funnel with teeth squirming attempting to drag whatever gets caught inside to the stomach.

The admonition stood around a towering 10 meters. While not quite as horrific as the things outside and not even the tallest, it would certainly be the strongest with our own technology against us, it seemed. The person to my right quickly charged the monster and was dispatched quickly. The man in his charge winded his hand axe to his back and ready a large ark. Responding quicker than what you would think possible of it, the beast jumped back as the man reached rang and swung his axe down. I could catch the quick moment of horror on his face realizing his mistake.

The beast crashed its claws downwards, flaying his armor and sending him to the ground. Then in an unexpected move, one of the two funnels on it's back, flipping at a joint and pointed down at the center of the man. The sound of the man's gasp was cut short as his midsection got blasted in two by a contracted beam of plasma. Picking up the upper half of his body it dropped it into the face mouth. The hatch on the stomach opened and focused on us.

I fired at the eye but the hatch sealed before I pull the trigger. The beast was sent down from the force and let out a manic cry. The other person now moved forward but didn't rush it. Lifting itself using its arm the monster regained footing and attempted opening the hatch. At first, it seemed as if it was going to move but it failed. Already distressed the monster let out a crazed call as the blade from the other guy removed one of its thin legs. While the other guy backed away from the spazzing arms I aimed a shot at its head killing it. While it appeared scary, it was body form was impractical making it very vulnerable.

I then heard the sounds of a person in pain and turned to see the other man was being hailed in a torrent of blazing hot needles seemingly from the ether. As his life was snuffed out the man in the back spoke again.

"It was as I feared it appears. The base didn't have enough time to mature. The liquid was still amber. The construction was retarded." I looked at him, aimed and fired. The recoil pushed back on my arms and a stream of light burst forward. A flash blinded me and the sound of marble being destroyed filled my ears. Over in an instant, I regained vision only to see the man was unharmed and a hole had been blasted into the wall on his left side. I aimed once more and kept firing until my gun was near overheating. He had to be the source of the hell, he had to die.

"It's all so primitive. You're not even free of your form. What hope do you have against us transcendent? Here, let me something you could never believe." From there I felt my lungs flood with something. A crushing force pushed against all my body and an unspeakable agony flared inside me. All air left me and my vision blurred. I desperately fought to stay conscious but the more I tried to breathe the more pain I felt and the more my vision loss.

"Tell me what you saw. Once we meet again, of course." Then everything went black and I awoke in this strange world. If there is anything I can draw relief from, it is that I already know what to expect from a world by that being's making. Though, honestly, I'm not sure how much comfort that does give as I never want to see another one of those damned things ever again. The silence is welcomed despite everything. Anything is better than the flexing of flesh.

                                                        ...

Dear Locket, Entry 2

I am unsure of the time here. Some kind of cycle exists as it's far brighter now than what it was when I first awoke. Of course, that may all be a farse due to the increase of paths I can see. At the current moment, 52 different paths are noticeable though I can't tell for how long they go, and more importantly, where. It feels as if I wonder a labyrinth, but instead of a giant room with countless walls, it's an entire dimension of walkways. I'd almost wish it was a dimension of winding walls instead of open paths. At any moment a creature can come at me from any angle and who knows what they can do? It doesn't even seem that the strange man from that hell knows. This leads me to some things that have been bothering me.

That man said that "...what hope do you have against us transcendent." If he can send me to this place why does he want me to tell him, "What I saw," when we meet again? He had to be the one who summoned those red needles so why didn't he kill me? What was it exactly he did to me that made me feel all that pain? He mentioned that the monster we killed in his throne formation was retarded because it was underdeveloped, so, what would it have been if it was fully formed? He seems to have control over those monstrosities but looked normal himself. Why is that? Was it magic he was using to deflect my shots and if it was, how did he learn a dead art that has been forgotten? What does he mean that he was merely there for the "final curtain?" Why was he so human despite everything else around him? Finally, I remember looking directly at his face but I can't remember a single detail beside one dead glossy eye with no feeling or expression inside.

Needless to say, there are many questions that need to be answered and that is only from that moment. I've also come to remember more about the castle. There were too many oddities and question to list that that "castle" gave. It wasn't entirely constructed of flesh as there were rooms that seemed to be constructed to relate to some of our feelings, memories, and fates. The material to create the rooms varied from basic metals, woods, and dense weaves of plants. Some showed a person's darkest secrets, other showed a minimized version of how they are to die, and others were simply there to mess with their heads. While anomalous, we came to appreciate them.

The castle was large and enigmatic about its size, like everything else there, and it took what felt like weeks to actually get through. However, the terrors that lived in almost all of the castle didn't dare enter the rooms nor send anything inside meaning we had a safe space to rest and create a plan to get through the next floor. There was about one of them per floor and we entered I'd say around thirty. At first, we moved through the floors quickly, well rested and armed to the teeth. This didn't last long as the deeper we got the more there was and the longer we went on the slower we got. The semi-final floor was when everything came to head with the monster merging with one another because there simply wasn't enough space despite how massive everything was for the beasts to move.

The final floor was an oddity, even among this inexplicable place. Everything was dead, metaphorically. All the flesh the floor was made out of stopped squirming. Not a single scream or moan from the damned assimilated to the walls. No blood dripped from the ceiling, and not a single monster to be seen. All there was was the vast open rooms and a single feminine voice recounting a story in the language I no longer understand. There are three words I could recognize. These words are "Fall," "Child," and "hero." While I do not write them in their regular transcript but the words that share their meaning of this language I now know, it's still effectively the same.

As for when I write these entries. I have no need to use basic facilities anymore. The feelings for sleep, food, or restroom are lost on me. Nor the effects of exhaustion or fatigue. The weight of the equipment I carry is surely hefty. With my armor being made of a pure crystal substance, weapon, and other equipment such as writing utensils, it would only make sense me feeling the effect of having them. However, as I can tell they aren't weightless, their push against me feels that of a feather dropping onto a hand. Without any means to inspect me, with the armor having no obvious way to get it off without destroying it, I have no way of knowing if I'm still the same old me that I've always been.

I don't feel like I've been here for long but between the endless walking and the writing of these entries, I must have been here for a few days at least. I can't help but wonder what has happened to my home. For now, all I can do is ask "what if's" and that'll get me a momentous nowhere. I have nowhere else to be or go so I guess I'll just have to keep walking. I fear that I've already got bored of walking in this strange place. Though I know to be careful of what you wish for, especially since all that's happened, but I hope I encounter something other than endless roads. Sadly, there is no wood to knock on.

                                                        ...

Dear Locket, Entry 3

There's still been a lot of nothing but I still have a few things to note. The first and most obvious is that the amount of paths has increased massively. Some of these paths are beginning to get uncomfortably close to one another. There have been a few instances where I've had to climb over another path and jump down back onto the one I'm currently walking to move on. With everything I'm wearing it's asinine to try and go under as if I get caught between two, I have no one to help me out. Of course, I have all the time in the where ever the fuck I am to get out but I'm not sure I would like to get stuck now that I know I'm not alone.

While I haven't directly seen anything I have heard plenty. The horrific cries of a thing(s) that sound like a pack of rabid demons. I honestly can't tell if it's one or many things that are making that cry because, for all I know, it might be one thing with a thousand heads. It sounded angry and I did hear the sound of distant explosions meaning that it might have been attacking something. Of course, it might be the only other thing in here that's gone mad but I for some reason highly doubt I'm that lucky. If you can call being put in this situation lucky, anyway.

Another terrifying thought to haunt decided to grace me as I jumped over another colliding path. What happens if I fall off the trail. It seems almost mandatory to fly to get anywhere of substance in this place so, what if I fall into the void below. I have no wings. I can't be too sure that there's any kind of ground and how far down would it be. Gravity seems to be in effect or else I would've floated off somewhere in the deep black above. The only light I've encountered are the paths themselves and if the black has a ground then why the paths that clearly aren't a help in finding the way here. A labyrinth this is.

As for theories to where I am. As crazy as this may seem but I feel that this is some kind of purgatory. With the pain, I felt before awakening here, I can't help but think I died. To why the strange man sent me here instead of assimilating me to the castle I don't know. There is clearly great importance in him telling me to tell him what I saw. He seemed to speak only in past tense which I can't help but think a bit strange. Almost as if he's feigning ignorance. If he is feigning ignorance, however, why make it so obvious? It's like I'm trapped in some kind of game or story but that can't be right...right?

An odd thought just came to me. What if that odd man originates from this world. If he really is feigning ignorance then he already knows what's in this place and it would fit with this weird game like the setup. The castle could represent the struggle of life. The death, if that is what it was, shows that I lived through all of life. All the struggles, actions of others, pain and joy. Of course, this doesn't fit with everything of the castle but right now this is the best I got.

Where I am now is purgatory or the journey to the afterlife. The in-between of mortality and eternity. Maybe the long expanse I'm wondering is allowing me to relive all the time of my life, remembering everything back from the end to beginning. Once I've gone the distance I'll end up in my final judgment which I can't help but think will be Hell. There I will re-meet that strange man and I'll be cast to torment for the rest of time. This all sounds crazy! Completely and totally. All this time to myself can't be good.

If my theory is correct that would make that man the Devil himself. That would kind of explain his odd demeanor, why this would be like a game to him and the hellish place he exited. It could also cover what he means by being there for the "Final Curtain." The Rapture. What if the story the female voice told was the tale of Jesus. Maybe Adam and Eve would fit the roles a bit more than Jesus. Maybe not. I have lost my mind, clearly.

Just as the last touch on this me forgetting everything and then slowly remembering is me having my life flash before me. Though I wouldn't exactly call this a "flash", more like a slow and equally drawn out recollection of my life in real time. I wonder if I will remember things that I've forgotten. This raises the somewhat obvious question, how can I be sure what I'm remembering is correct or, if it is, how do I know if I'd forgotten it? Will I be aware that I had forgotten it when I remember. I mean, I'm aware that the castle's events are recent unless that's a lie too? I guess I can add this to the tally of questions.

[hisfatherwillhearaboutthisx]

Four-Hundred and Twenty Seconds. (Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff! Reader)

House of Reader: Hufflepuff Requested?: Yes!!!!! Request: HENLO (scREAMS AFGRESSIVELY) I loved your hufflepuff imagine omF can I request one hufflepuff x Draco fluff where the draco never knew the trade existed until they played 7 minS in heaven and got paired up and stuff escalated very quickly c; and Draco confesses or smtG (feel free to tweak or change iT!!) tHANK YOU SOSOSOS MUCH Much hugS from the puFfLe hoUSe PS I lOve slytherpuff relationships so muCh (chokEs) A/N: oMg, I just love your enthusiasm. I may be a Slytherin but I also love slytherpuff relationships// so cute ^_^. Anyway if you’re who you think you are, then I’ve checked my activity and you’re my number one follower!!please PM me so I can follow you!!!!!!!!!

This is 100% not my scene. At least it doesn’t suit my persona seeing as my whole school life I’ve been a quiet Hufflepuff and now I’m here at a part with some of the rowdiest kids in my entire year. I can safely say that I know 4 people in this room, it’s not like I’ve spoken to them before but I know their names. holding a cup full of definitely spiked drink I noticed everyone forming a large circle in the middle of the room. as a result of having little to no knowledge of parties my curiosity took over me and I stuttered over to the group of students.

“ooh a Hufflepuff has come to join us, now the party is starting” I smiled down at the very drunk boy probably in the year below me. I took a seat next to him and spotted a long green glass bottle sitting resting on its side in the middle of the circle. A tall blonde boy entered the circle and squashed his lanky form in-between two boys about 3 people away from me. He had a bright smile as his eyes landed on the bottle. “what muggle shit is this” the entire circle erupted into laughter. The younger boy from before stood up and hushed everyone.

“well this is more interesting than quote on quote muggle shit” Everyone quietened down and listened to the boy. “It’s called 7 minuets in Heaven, someone will spin this bottle and person that the mouth piece points to has to go into the cupboard with the other person for 7 minuets.” the circle once again erupted into discussion.

The blonde boy lunged towards the bottle, he wrapped his fingers around the bottle and twisted his wrist so that the bottle flew around the circle slowing down and eventually pointing dead centre with where my legs were crossed. I didn’t react as quick as the boy did; his friends all developed long grins as they chanted “Draco got the Hufflepuff! Draco got the Hufflepuff” he turned back to his friends and whispered a harsh ‘shut up’. He rose from his place on the floor and held his hand out to me

“come on then…” I took his hand hesitantly and followed Draco to the cupboard. The space was small and smelt like damp.

“It’s so dark in here” I whispered lightly into the air, Draco turned his face to me fully “but you seem so bright…” the boy trailed of his speech faltering. “What’s your name, I never asked sorry” for a Slytherin his boy was being very considerate. Draco Malfoy, I remember him now; he’s meant to be a really intimidating person that younger years will tremble at the sight of, yet here he is apologising for not asking my name?

“oh it’s y/n, I wont be surprised if you didn’t know me” I laughed gesturing at our ties to highlight our differences.

“I do actually know you, I err, well I really like you and I just didn’t want this to be awkward if I didn’t know what to talk about for the next seven minuets. You kind of make me nervous” I let out an accidently obnoxious snort. “I make You, nervous? How on earth?”

he shrugged letting his shoulders go slack and leant against a shelf of small cement objects. He smiled back at me sweetly, “You know you look a lot different from our first year… You’re hair seems to be darker, and you never slick it back anymore” I giggled pushing my hair flat against my head to mimic his old look. He laughed at me and pulled my hands away from head to make me stop. We looked down to our hands and how are fingers perfectly interlocked. I smiled up at him as his eyes fluttered shut. We closed the small space between us and our lips pressed against each other in a way of passion and love. I never knew I felt this way about him. But I guess I do…

His hands went to my cheeks and felt the heat of my face push against his palms. He pulled away running his thumbs over my cheeks again smiling down at me in sweetest way.

But his kiss left me hungry, hungry for him.

I pulled his short collar back to me as he let out a shocked gasp. Draco smiled and pushed his face closer to mine on an attempt to fill the void that he had left within me. He gripped my wrists, his long fingers wrapping around the structure as if it were that of a statues. He handled me so delicately, as if I would break at the touch of a feather. I was hungry. No, starving. He made me so very hungry… Draco released my wrists and let his hands travel, ever so slowly. Somehow his small caring gesture seemed so sensual, everything worked me up that slight bit more. His touch was like a small cut, the pain the felt so good but still makes you need release. There’s no combination of words that could ever perfectly capture his touch. My knees buckled as his hands softly ran up to my underarms, as he slowly lowered me to the ground. His knees were either side of my own, he kept moving up my body coming closer until my back met the cold concrete floor. The sudden chill with the sensation of his perfectly soft fingers pushed a whinny moan from my swollen lips. Draco’s fingers gingerly continued their adventure across my torso to the bottom of my shirt. For every inch he raised the shirt, he would leave a small wet kiss on the exposed skin. Everything he does drives me crazy. The shirt was pulled over my head making my hair shift uncomfortably against the unfamiliar surface of the floor. Now that there was no layers between me and the concrete, every little sensation of his touch was heightened tenfold. He ran his index finger down my bare body all the way down to my skirt. He experimentally rugged at the elastic. “Draco… please do something…” my voice was hardly a decidable above a breath. “We don’t have much time honey” Honey… just as smooth as his voice and touch, how could I possibly make him feel the same way I feel about him. Every little thing he does drives me absolutely insane. Every light touch makes me squirm and wriggle. I loved it… dangerously. Draco pushed my skirt high enough so that my hips were exposed. He tugged harder this time in an attempt to pull my underwear from my hips. He left a small kiss by my pelvis, making my hips rise and underwear roll off effortlessly. He stared down at me… …his masterpiece A completely wrecked girl, entirely consumed by a man who’s hardly done anything. So weak… The darkness only allowed me to see his shadowy figure, and as the figures head disappeared between my thighs, everything was so different. His soft caress had magically transformed into a hard lick from my entrance to clit. He felt so good. All the moans and groans of his name were released. His fingers followed his tongue. Slowly a finger entered me, and all sense was lost. “So wet, all for me… ah, you taste so good” he pulled away slightly to blow his icy breath over my aching pussy. A loud raspy moan left my lips once more. The complete combination threw me into over drive. “Everything, so perfect. And all mine…” The sentence played over again and again in my head as his fingers continued to go deeper and faster, building up the sensation within my lower stomach, I was so close and I knew that he could tell. He clasped his open mouth around my pussy and quickens the pace of his fingers, his eyelashes tickled my skin as he looked up to my eyes in a daring manner. The boy was too much. I couldn’t hold it anymore, everything was so perfect, he sucked hard at my clit as I released into his mouth, a shudder of embarrassment ran through me making my body become hot and flushed. Draco sat up between my legs and pushed his fingers past his lips and onto his light pink tongue. “Ahh Honey, you taste so sweet” the nickname he had given me that night referred my house and the difference between us but we always come back together eventually. Being too overstimulated too move, Draco pulled my shirt back on and sorted my hair and clothes out to look presentable again, almost as if nothing had happened in these past minutes. “Draco…” “Yeah Honey?” I bit my lip with a lump in my throat “You didn’t get to cum, and I feel bad…” my timidness had returned and I was no longer in this state of sexual confidence. Draco smiled sweetly and purely at me, his arm draped over my shoulder pulling me closer. “Well that just gives you the excuse to see me again… don’t forget this night”

• • • • • • • [x] I kinda decided to make this a smut, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and if it really bothers you Annon I could make a fluffy version...

[exhoe-imagines]

Don’t || 4

Previous Parts: [Prolouge] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Reader, Werewolf!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping and mentions of blood

Word Count: 1405

Author: Admin Jewels

Notes: I hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know how you like it ~ Admin Jewels

‘Finding Satsu’ by John Williams

~Jungkook’s POV~

“Jungkook... Y/N is gone.” Taehyung connects to Jungkook telepathically, relaying the message.

The words echo through his head but he can’t comprehend them. “What?” Jungkook gasps as a breath of air leaves his lungs like the last bit of his soul. His body is numb, void of all life. Memories of your face flash through his mind, your voice still ringing in his ears.

“She-she was just with you. I left her in your safety, Taehyung,” he pants, voice full of disbelief.

Then visions start to flood his mind, visions that are not his. He sees you being thrown into a car on the side of a gas station, the sun setting in the horizon. Then he sees the unnatural glow of your captors, their dark clothes just covering the pale hue of their undead skin.

His heart sinks as he watches the car speed off into the distance, your face disappearing from the back window of the car.

Anger begins to consume him, adrenaline courses through his veins, and suddenly he is running. He doesn’t care who sees him, all he knows is he needs to find you, save you, and take you to safety. His fingers turn to claws and immediately rip off the clothes hindering his transformation. A growl rips through his chest as his body mutates to its alternate form, an auburn brown wolf.

“Goddamn it Taehyung!” Jungkook’s thoughts scream into Taehyung’s mind, “Why weren’t you with her at all times? We’ve already lost Taecyeon, we can’t afford anymore of this-”

“I-I didn’t think they’d be so close to our territory, we were only 30 miles from the village,” Taehyung pants back to Jungkook, “I just left Mina inside the border with the elders. I’m on Y/N’s trail now, they seem to be headed south back toward the city.”

“Keep me informed, I’ll let the pack know,” Jungkook replies before cutting off their mental connection. He’s running at full speed now, headed to find the pack at their headquarters.

He finally arrives, turning back to his human form. He bursts through the back entrance of the abandoned factory they call HQ. It sits just on the outskirts of the city, close to the highway that leads north to the village.

Guards quickly acknowledge him as a high-ranking commander and bow as he enters. A guard runs up to him and throws a robe over his shoulders, as the wolves are often without clothes upon entrance. Jungkook shrugs them out of the way, rushing to the central meeting room. He bursts through the double doors, immediately causing everyone to glance up from their intense debate.

“They took Y/N, she was only 30 miles from the village and they were waiting to abduct her,” Jungkook yells, stomping to the head of the table next to Jin.

The entire room goes silent, eyes trained on Jin awaiting his reaction. His eyes glaze over for a moment before his hands turn to fists.

“Damn it!” he yells, pounding the table before standing up and pacing the front of the room. “They’re nearing the village, we need to send more units to secure the border.”

“I’ll send my men now, they’ll be there within an hour,” Seungri says, standing proudly before bowing to Jin. His men rise and mimic his action.

“Perfect, brother. Now Jongdae, I need you to send the best of your unit to go after Y/N. I assume they’ll be taking her to their eastern compound,” Jin commands.

“Actually, Taehyung is on her trail, he said the scent was headed south to the city center,” Jungkook interjects.

“Why would they head to the center of the city? They know we could easily surround them there,” Jongdae asks in confusion.

“Maybe it’s a diversion,” Junmyeon speaks up.

“All I know is that those blood suckers have Y/N and we need to be out there looking for her,” Jungkook yells, slamming his hands on the table.

“You’re right brother, I’ll send my men immediately,” Jongdae says gently, trying to ease Jungkook’s temper.

“I’m coming with,” Jungkook says, heading for the door.

“No Jungkook, I need you here,” Jin commands from the head of the table, “We need you here,” he says, motioning to the rest of the men in the room.

“This is your sister we are talking about, Seokjin. Have you forgotten her already?” Jungkook hisses at him.

“Jongdae and his team are after her, I trust them. Why don’t you?” Jin questions.

“I promised her I would keep her safe, and I will hold to that promise,” Jungkook says with a glance before stomping out of the room.

‘I Understood Something’ by Dario Marianelli

~Your POV~

Your eyes flutter open as you awake, oblivious to your surroundings. Your arms ache, but as you go to move them, you realize your wrists are bound together.

Your last memories of the gas station flee through your mind, along with the last remnants of safety and home. You can remember the look on Jungkook’s face as he watched you leave with Taehyung and Mina. His promise to you rings in your head, and you replay it over and over again.

“I will do anything to keep you safe,” he said.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when you hear a door shut and multiple men start talking. You push your ear to the wall that you’re leaned against, trying to capture any clear sentences. The room is too dark to see anything, so you rely on your other senses. A sharp odor fills the air, something like rotten meat.

The voices on the other side of the wall come closer and closer until you can make out clear words.

“She’s tied up in here, boss. Do you want us to get the furnace ready for her?” one voice calls out.

“No, that won’t be necessary… I want to put her corpse on display for the city to see,” a cold voice responds.

“Her brother surely won’t like that…” another voice interjects.  

“Well that’s exactly the reaction I want,” the cold voice chuckles. It sounds so familiar, like you have heard it before.

It all happens too quickly for you to fully react. Adrenaline rushes through your body as you hear a door next to you creak open. Artificial light pours through the doorway, illuminating the room. Your blood runs cold when you see that the walls and floor are covered in white tiles. A metal table faces you from across the room, a metal drain sitting beneath it. You choke out a gasp as you realize you were brought to a slaughterhouse. This is not a simple kidnapping, this was never going to lead to any kind of bargain, these men took you for only one reason, to butcher you like cattle.

Tears flood your eyes and blur your vision as your curl into yourself. You watch as a man comes through the door, headed toward you. His stance is predatory, ready to pounce, yet his steps are slow and precise as he nears you. His feet do not even make a sound as they waltz across the floor. Shadow hides most of his features, but you can still make out the sharp grin plastered on his face. You suddenly realize that it is the same grin from your nightmare. His eyes are the same scarlet color, glittering with malicious intent. But as soon as your eyes focus on him, he stops in his tracks, the grin disappearing from his face. He becomes something else entirely, all confidence leaving his body. His white hair falls into his face, shielding his squinting eyes that look at you in disbelief. They suddenly turn to fear, and he is backtracking his steps, trying to look anywhere but you. His feet are clumsy as he rushes out the door, hurrying away from the room.

“What’s wrong, boss?” the men call to him as he slams the door shut behind him.

“The plan has changed, we need to bring her to the compound. Now!” he yells, his voice frantic. Their steps are loud now, pounding into the room and pulling you up from the ground. You recognize Jimin’s silver hair and small figure near you, his hands reaching out to tie a blindfold around your eyes.

“Well, well, well… I guess it’s your lucky day,” he chuckles beside you.

You don’t have time to respond before a syringe is stuck into your arm, and your world turns dark.

[ecotone99]

[HR] Monsters

"H-Hello..?" I whisper, listening to the sound of my quaking voice echo throughout the large cavern, and the cool air sticks onto my shaking body as I wait for a response.

In my terrorized state, my eyes skim over the walls of the large cave, and my chest tightens when I stare at the seemingly endless darkness that consumes the majority of the space. I shiver slightly at the sight and try not to give in the wave of panic that threatens to drag me down, forcing myself to imagine a safe place in my mind. The darkness that coats the space around me seems to grow more sinister at my discomfort, sending chills up my spine, and despite the low temperature I feel sweat beginning to bead my forehead.

After a few more moments of no reply, I gather the courage to let out a louder cry for help, "HELLO, ANYONE?"

My call once again goes unanswered, squashing what remains of my hope, and I sink to my knees as my breath quickens from a sudden rush of dread that makes it hard to breathe. The safe place that I forced myself to hide in vanishes from my mind, leaving me vulnerable to the choppy waves of panic that quickly drown my rational thoughts. The overwhelming darkness seems to grow even more sinister at my surrender and I freeze in place as the hairs on my arms straighten and a pair of predatory eyes pierce through the unending void. Terror grips my body at the sight, adrenaline floods my veins, and I instantly back up against the wall farthest from the unknown creature.

oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I repeat in my terror-filled mind, trying in vain to steady my quaking breaths. I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die!

A desperate whimper leaves my quivering lips as the creature's fear-inducing presence washes over me, paralyzing my chilled limbs, and tears blur my vision before sliding down my whitened face.

"P-Please," I beg, letting out a terrified yelp as the sound of it's labored breath gets closer, and the creature's eyes become more visible through the darkness. "Don't hurt me, just let me go..."

The creature suddenly stops and its cold gaze licks across my shivering body with a glint of curiosity, as if it's thinking about how to proceed, and my blood runs cold as its emotionless husk of a voice responds to my plea.

"You have entered my domain by your own will," It says, and I fight the urge to cover my ears in discomfort. "I must silence all those who realize my existence and threaten my safety, I deeply apologize for what is about to occur."

A low growl replaces the guilt-ridden voice, making the surrounding darkness hum with a dreadful atmosphere, and the sound of something tearing toward me fills my ears.

"WAIT!" I screech, covering my eyes in terror and waiting for everything to end.

Something collides with my terror-filled chest, knocking the remaining air from my lungs and I feel my body being tossed through the air before slamming into, what I assume is, one of the cavern walls. A wave of searing pain instantly rakes across my body, making it hard to draw in a breath, and the ominous aura that stains the polluted air intensifies before I finally succumb to the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

I come to, immediately greeted with an intense ache that radiates through my quivering body, on the stone-cold floor of an unknown place. Once I find the strength to open my eyes they quickly begin to refocus, adjusting to the darkness that prowls in the space around me, and I immediately smell a foul stench in the air as the rest of my body wakes up. After a few moments of gathering my strength, the memory of what brought me here slams into my brain and I bolt upright against the cold ground below me, making my body ache in protest.

The smell fully sets in at that moment and the urge to vomit slams into my heaving stomach. I gag and cough, tasting the horrid smell, and my eyes water from the intensity of the odor. The sudden coughing causes the pain in my chest to flare up, making it hard to feed my desperate lungs the air they need, and I pray that nothing vital was damaged during that scuffle.

Fighting the urge to cough, I force myself upward, trying to ignore the intense fumes that coat the air by covering my nose and mouth with my shirt, and scan the space around me. The floor is littered with various bones, chunks of rotten flesh, and pile after pile of what looks like dried bile. My knees wobble slightly upon seeing the grisly sight, making it hard to keep my balance, and I turn my head away from the carnage.

The only form of illumination in the medium-sized room is a small glowing ball, nearly the size of my hand, near the wall in front of me. Its light is barely able to keep the oncoming darkness at bay, only able to illuminate half of the room. I stare deeply at it, not able to look away, and for the first time in ages, I feel safe.

The thoughts of the beast, the darkness, the gore, all of it vanishes in the light of this thing, and a weak smile perks my lips. I suddenly have the urge to grab the small glowing ball, as if touching it would somehow help my situation, and my hand slowly reaches toward the source of light. But before my hand can wrap around the small object, a low and menacing growl fills my ears and I whip my head toward the curtain of darkness behind me, instantly on alert.

The pair of predatory eyes from before re-appear in the darkness as if the void itself is alive, and before I can scream in terror the glow behind me intensifies. A blast of intense heat tears into my exposed back, lighting my shirt ablaze, and I let out a cry of surprise before realizing that my shirt is on fire. I quickly tear off my apparel and toss it into the darkness, checking myself for any burns or marks.

The flames quickly dispel the darkness around it and reveal a creature to grizzly to even process let alone put on paper, and its predatory eyes bore into mine. My body immediately freezes and dread sinks its claws into my chest at the sight, remembering how the last encounter with this beast ended. But instead of charging, the beast turns its gaze toward the ball of light and it lets out a snarl that makes my brain go numb in fear.

A light hiss echoes from the glowing ball, snapping me from my terror-filled trance, and the glow radiating from it intensifies once again. An inhuman shriek fills the air causing the entire room to violently shake as it tears toward the orb of light, leaving its blanket of darkness, and goes to strike it with one of its huge razor-blade like hands. The light gets even brighter, making it impossible to see, and I close my eyes right as the creature's massive hand goes to strike the orb.

I feel an immense force knock me back, and an agonized wail fills my ears, then everything goes quiet.

submitted by /u/Mindbenderr1 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3esj5Wo

[lxxmiere]

Under Water

this is an original piece i wrote three years ago and recently began work-shopping again whilst playing around with an essay format. tw for mentions of death/fear of dying so if you’re uncomfortable with that then please don’t read!!

Everything feels distant, like you’re completely separated from the reality that continues on as normal around you – it appears distorted through the water that clouds your vision, but you can make out the misshapen silhouettes of all the people surrounding you, and the bright light through the blue hue of the water. It feels distinctly like you’re floating freely in your own personal space, completely detached from everyone and everything, almost as though the single cord that kept you grounded has snapped. The sounds which were once deafening are now muffled, and when you finally open your eyes all you can see is a sea of blue. The shrieks of laughter from the children which populate the pool are dull and almost non-existent. For a moment, it’s peaceful.

The moment is fleeting. Panic hits you in overwhelming waves, like an iron grip latching onto your stomach like a vice, pulling it down towards the tiled floor. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage to a beat that is both foreign and strange. Another wave of panic hits you, a debilitating one, and you desperately to push yourself up through the vast body of water – just to reach the surface – but it only seems to get further away. You begin to doubt you’ll ever get there. A finish line that you’ll never cross.

The sheer levels of panic that consumed me in that moment felt out of place - children were playing in the water that surrounded me, joy evident on every inch of their youthful faces, floating serenely and splashing mini tidal waves in the direction of their parents. Their yelps of laughter echoed, travelling in every direction. This experience seemed to hit me like a freight train at full speed, the prospect of death lying in its wake. I realise that this initial reaction, this overwhelming and all-consuming panic was automatic when the possibility of death loomed so eerily overhead. It’s human, like the response itself is somehow encoded in our genetic makeup, identical in each and every person. I can see very clearly how my fear of death stemmed from this moment, the fear of dissolving into nothingness, of having life snatched away so easily. It had never found its way into my thoughts until the moment it barged in, completely unannounced. Death instilled nothing but fear in me from the second its presence intruded in my life. There was nothing I could have done to fight off the terror that consumed me in that moment.

It seems impossible to think that mere moments ago, before everything had been completely normal. I had splashed around in the depths of the pool with my friend, brimming with joy and feeling fully content. The atmosphere around me left me feeling completely at ease, surrounded by laughter and bliss. It left me completely unsuspecting to the horror that followed.

Mere seconds pass in what feels like hours, and you can’t believe you ever thought for one second that anything about this was relaxing. Your head is throbbing so excruciatingly that your entire line of vision seems to jump. Your throat feels like it’s on fire, and despite all the water surrounding you, closing in on you, it just won’t go out. Your limbs feel heavy and begin to ache, exhausted from fighting against the water, frantically throwing punches that don’t land. More time passes. Your head feels like it might explode, and you are so painfully aware of the lack of oxygen in your lungs. Suddenly, exhaustion hits like a ton of bricks and there’s nothing you want more than to give up already. It’s too much, and you can’t possibly go on. And then you think of everything you’d been trying to push to furthermost corner of your mind, every terrible thought you had fought down and tried to suffocate. They all break free at once and it’s enough to make your head spin. Every dreaded ‘what if?’ floods your mind.

What if I can’t get out? What if no one can see me? What if this is where and when I die?

The idea that in a few short moments my life could have ended filled me with a fury akin to nothing I had ever felt before. Finding myself at a fork in the road, where the routes led to either life or death, the decision not entirely mine to make, was something which enraged me. I didn’t want to leave, to figure out what waited beyond death, regardless of whether it was a void or some type of utopian paradise that awaited me. I wasn’t ready. Now, I know that I will never be ready. The idea of entering the unknown, of possibly ceasing to exist in the blink of an eye - it is not something I can even begin to prepare myself for.

It all sounds too surreal. You’ve heard about all the young people taken far too soon; read all the tragic stories in the newspaper. But they aren’t about you. They can’t be. Suddenly, it feels like reality has slapped you across the face. That’s all these people become: stories you’ve heard in passing, known for their death rather than the life they have lived, regardless of how fulfilling it has been. And their names are never remembered, all that amounts to their being is how their story ends. And the possibility that you may join them sends fear to your very core.

In retrospect, perhaps that was what scared me the most. The idea of unfulfilled potential, of every achievement and every aspiration being reduced to nothing. An entire life, a full life, culminating to just a singular moment that ended it all. To being remembered only at the end, being immortalised in those last five minutes which would become my identity. The fear burrows itself deep in my gut, ever present and unnoticed.

That fear is enough to keep you going, because maybe – just maybe – you can get out of this. Adrenaline courses through your veins like never before, and you recognise something that seemed so foreign: hope. Maybe someone will notice you. Maybe you will get out in time. You might just make it.

Now I realise that no amount of desperation could have saved me. I could have begged and cried and prayed to Gods that I don’t believe in, and whatever would have happened to me would still remain out of my hands. I had no say, no impact on my life in the end. Regardless of this, nothing could stop me from just wishing that something would happen - absolutely anything. Bargaining with whoever’s hands my life was in at that very moment, to have some remorse, to let this horrible ordeal be over.

You kick your legs harder and flail your arms with every ounce of energy you have left. You keep going, even when your limbs are burning, screaming out in protest at every individual movement, begging you to stop. You keep going because it’s the only option you have. You feel your energy slowly diminish, but you don’t stop, not even for one second. You can’t. You need them to notice you, to get out of all of this. All the panic is gone, replaced entirely with a new-found desperation- desperation to be noticed. To be saved.

Maybe you’ve been filling yourself with false hope as time goes by and you have progressed no further. It feels like the more time passes, the further away you float from everything. Everyone around you, your hope, your future. You are completely and utterly isolated. No one notices you and you don’t notice them. You hadn’t even thought about the pain, which had increased to a point so unbearable it feels like it will never end – it feels as though fire is coursing through your veins, burning every inch of your skin, and your bones are made of lead, weighing you down. You're not even sure if you're scared - the exhaustion seems to be swallowing you whole and the only emotion you can fully register is how eerily calm you are. Disoriented, perhaps, but most of all you're completely calm floating amongst the nothingness. It's almost peaceful again. You're so close to accepting everything that's happening when you feel something wrap around your waist and pull you up. Light bursts through the sea of blue as you finally make it to the surface and engulfs everything in your line of vision. You swallow the air in gulps, and your starved lungs stop screaming. You can finally breathe.

After that, everything is a blur. There’s a lifeguard who appears to be talking to you, but it’s entirely indistinguishable. There’s a room with a comfy chair in a corner, where you are finally able to rest your tired legs as they fire question after question at you, and all you can do is force replies out of your raw throat as you shiver, water still trickling down your back. Everything about the situation is overwhelming- the brightness of the lights, the sharp tone in everyone’s voice, the panic on people’s faces.

And just like that, it’s over. Every worry I ever had is now irrelevant. I realize that now. Looking back, the fears that I didn’t even know existed until that moment are ridiculous. I am more than simply what I leave behind. I am still here, still fighting and still determined. And everything is just as I left it. Comforting, welcoming me with open arms that I accept with no hesitation now that I’m finally home.

Acceptance. That is what each second amounted to in the end. I recognise that nothing - my pleas, my anger, my fear - had any impact on the final outcome, whether I lived or died. Despite fighting up until the last second, it is always waiting, that death can’t be eluded. I came to the realisation, the acknowledgement, that there is no defeating death, not really. I didn’t escape it, but merely evaded it for a time. No matter what I do, it will always be there, looming in the background and waiting for the perfect time to intrude once more. Waiting, always waiting.

[fallenfromgrace3140-blog]

"Darkness"

A story I wrote. Pretty amateur but I tried. "Darkness" "Alone I sat, in the darkness, pondering my existence. Lost in my mind, emptiness surrounded me. It feels strange to put my feelings into words because to put them into words is almost proclaiming them to be true, but are they? I've been stuck here so long I've forgotten what is real and what is my imagination. I'm lost inside this oblivion, did I bring this upon myself? The truth eludes me. All I see is darkness, I wonder if my eyes would still see light if it ever came about. I don’t remember where I was before here, it seems like I never really existed until now, but there's something I forgot. I must remember, the truth will set me free. What if this is all I have ever been? There's something out there in the vast darkness, there's something I am forgetting. Am I just lying to myself for some sort of solace? I don't even remember my name! There is no warmth here, my mind races with no comfort. No ease of my anxiety is or has ever been present. I've become used to the feeling, its become so familiar I don’t remember what the opposite is, my mind fails to grasp what it could be. The words are there, happiness, warmth, love, but that’s all they are, words that have no meaning to me. I can't remember anything, I only know what I am right now. I try so hard to remember, something compels me to keep thinking about these lost memories but it always leads no where. The answer lies just past the edge of my awareness, past the infinite darkness. I'm starting to give up. Why am I here? Am I being punished? All I can ever do is ask myself questions. Consciousness moving from question to question, never receiving an answer, only more questions. It is a vicious cycle that always leads me back to the same thoughts. I am only left with this ceaseless void that surrounds me. The same emptiness is now inside. How can one be so full of emptiness? Did I somehow will this torture into existence? Something tells me this is all my fault. I want to be at peace. I want this all to go away. I am helpless at the mercy of my own thoughts. I have no hope, only this unshakable anxiety that this will never end. My mind tells me to wait and something has to change but I feel I am only getting worse. What do I do? I cant do anything but that doesn’t stop the incessant chatter in my mind. I must remember how I got here. The truth will set me free. This must be hell. I can use any other word to describe it. I lost hope long ago, I wish I could say how long ago but I have no idea. Time here is only measured by the beating of my heart, its only been a subtle thump that's really slow, and it seems to only get slower. My mind speeds up while my heart slows down. I can't feel my body, the cold darkness has taken away my senses. Numb. Cold. Dark. Alone. Hell. Am I dead? My heart beats but my blood is cold. Or does my heart even really beat? Its all I've ever heard, but maybe its my mind playing more of its tricks. I don’t even know if my ears work, or my eyes. I can't hear my voice, but is that my ears or my mouth failing? I must be dead. I have no feeling in my body, while my mind wanders. Will I spend eternity here? In this timeless void? I wish that conclusion would give me relief but it only worries me more. My forgotten memory is nagging at me again, I must remember. Its there at the edge of my perception, escaping my mental grasp. It will set me free, free me of this torment. I hate it here. I wish the void inside and out would collapse in on itself and tear me to pieces, whatever is left of me anyway. I need to stop thinking about the end, I need to remember the truth. It will set me free, I know it! But what is it? I have words associated with it but no tangible understanding of what it could possibly be. Light. Love. Warmth. Joy. Peace. Why was this memory taken away? I cannot fathom why I’d be here and not in whatever the opposite is. I want to remember, if I could remember then maybe I’d understand, maybe I’d find hope and freedom. More words that have no meaning to me, only a knowledge of what I haven’t experienced, because one cannot exist without the other right? It’s the paradox of my own existence, if there is dark then there is light, if there is cold there is warm, but where is it? Why can’t I remember? I try to move but no body answers my impulses, my mind wills for movement but I either can’t communicate with my nerves or I am moving and I just don’t know it. Either way I am miserable, suffering in this fucking nightmare, darkness and despair consuming my every thought. I will my mouth to scream in agony, I cry out for death! I can’t stand being so helpless and powerless, where is the light? I would rather be dead than to live through this perpetual loop of crippling doom and needless thought! My heartbeat is still beating slow, I don’t feel any air in my lungs when suddenly something changes! What was that? It a tingle. So subtle. It must be a trick of my mind… this can’t be real. A tingle. So far away. I forgot the word! Its part of that blocked out memory I can sense it. Why do you hide from me? I must know the truth, the truth will set me free! The tingle is still there.. Its my finger!! That’s what it is! I can feel it tingling just at the tip. How? Why? I don’t understand but this change fills me with elation I haven’t felt in an eternity. Something changed! I feel it. It feels familiar and small, lovely! I wonder if any else will change from this bleak existence, I suddenly have a new hope. The smallest feeling yet it means everything! It means there is something. The truth is being revealed! I am getting ahead of myself, the tingle is still there but what does it really mean? Did I will this to happen? I need to remember. The tingle.. Its warmth! How amazing! Something else is changing, I cant tell what it is, I haven’t used any of my senses in some immeasurable time. I’ve only thought about them. The tingle is growing! The most euphoric feeling is starting to come through my hand! I am baffled and confused but it feels too good to question it. Its light! I can see it! So dim and far away but I can already behold its awesome glory! How amazing! Its light! The truth! I remember! Its chasing all the darkness away in every direction, closer and closer it slowly rises upon me! The warmth is starting to radiate through my arm and my upper torso. I suddenly take a sharp gasp and feel the warmth enter my lungs. I can breathe again! This radiant light is the truth! It dispels the darkness and endless torment that surrounds me, it quiets my mind and I can feel its everlasting love. It fills me with joy and a euphoria so amazing, the warm light radiates throughout my entire body now. I remember! The truth! I was lost and now I am found. I was in the darkness and now I am thrust into the light! It comes closer and closer, I can move and feel my entire body again when I start to hear again! How amazing! Angelic voices surround me, it sounds so beautiful! They along with the light take me I to a trance if blissful thought if endless wonder and glory. Splendor I could never have imagined is now complete and distinct reality that I can understand in its entirety. Its amazing! I can now longer fathom my old thoughts, only love and warmth surround me. The light comes closer and closer. The truth! Love. I understand it now. Light. It’s gloriously warm and fantastic. Joy, endlessly abounds and comforts me, this was my memory! I feel complete and alive. My breath is warm and I am satisfied with my existence. But the light still approaches! The voices become louder and the light brighter! The intensity I feel in my body and mind only amplifies with each passing breath! How amazing! Closer and closer and closer it comes! Closer! Closer! Its power increases and suddenly I realize, how much can I take? A doubt creeps and shatters this fantasy trance. Its getting closer! Its so bright! Loud! Then I remember where I was before this and I break out of the bliss for just a moment to wonder, why was I in darkness? If this light existed why didn’t I see it? Closer! Closer! Why? I feel amazing but this intensity starting to hurt my body at it’s core, my body cant take this overwhelming resonance! Stop! Please stop! It hurts! Yet this radiant light only increases more! Why? Please stop! The warmth becomes a fiery heat that I can feel burning my skin, my eyes! My ears hurt from the voices, they suddenly sound like shrieks and screams! Please stop! The heat intensifies, I breathe in pure fire and it burns me inside! I feel my skin melting off my body! My eyes burn and melt out of my sockets and I no longer see the light! I hear my voice for the first time, I scream out, “Please stop!, you showed me love and warmth now I am dying, end this please! This is unbearable! Send me back to the void from which I came, I can’t stand this any longer!” My ear drums explode, I feel my skin detach and my veins drain of all my blood in excruciating pain, my lungs dissolve into nothing and then.. All is silent. All is dark. The pain has stopped but my mind is still reeling. Why am I still here? Why did the light cast me back into darkness? I asked for it to stop, but I only wanted the peace back. I don’t understand. I need the light, how can I exist on knowing the truth? I understand the opposite now and it makes my current state even that much more miserable, I gained hope only to have it torn away, the light burned me alive, that’s the truth. Why? More questions than ever before play through my mind and they will never be answered. I wanted the truth, I wanted to remember.. I can’t go on like this. I can’t go on knowing the truth and not being in its grace.. I must forget it all, the truth doesn’t set me free. The truth hurts, while the darkness is merely numb. I choose numbness over pain, I’d rather be ignorant of what I don't have rather than know.. I brought this upon myself, I control how it goes. I must forget, the truth doesn’t set me free..."