Date: Wednesday, January 15, 1997 7:53 PM
The Trials to Unite...<two> She ran ran from the pain from the humiliation, from the anger Faster faster over broken ground shattered hopes bent and terrible dreams taunting Wyrmspawn Abomination Tainted one Spiral dancer Leecher of the Leech Taker of innocence Betrayer of Gaia The voices would not still the shrill cawing of hateful birds, turning everything she did against her FOOLS! All FOOLS She snarled, letting the rage consume her, like pure heroine finer than wine liquid torment, shaken not stirred Silence it is the heart beat of things yet to be, and things not spoken thoughts birthed in the quiet realms beyond the necessity of speech. She smiled, grimacing at the motion of numb lips. She would have her revenge oh yesssssssssss . You damn me, you cast me aside, you mock me in my own lands, and curse my name. Yeah thought I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil for thou art with me Thy rod and they staff.. yes thy rod and thy staff Perhaps I am not good enough to lead you, but you shall feel my teeth on your throat in that silence you will taste my blood on dying lips, and know AND KNOW it was I who destroyed you Ripe and thick, it clung to her in a miasma of discontent, shredding her will even as she felt the power of such convictions washing through her Such purity of thought did much to destroy her The voices grew louder, speaking in sadistic tones of all that could have been, all that was yet to be were she to simply lay down her head and sleep. She threw back her shoulders and howled to the dying day, cursing all, longing everything, lost in the maze of insanity she wove with such skill Weaver she giggled, giving herself fully to the change; it ripped through her frame. Pain, such sublime ministrations, freeing the fire of her passion on the molecular level. "Take me .," she whispered softly, laughing resonating to a deeper more terrifying chuckle. Freedom in fury to run, to glide on the rising currents of panic, begging for validation. The cliff lie ahead she did not stop, but pushed herself further The climb was steep, and rocks rained noisily, pattering down the nearly sheer incline. Furious, she dug her claws in and climbed faster. Higher faster, more, more escape! She could see the top of the drop off now. Just a little bit further It was a subtle thing at first the loose soil gave way, and she scrabble to keep her footing, sliding further with every move. The buzzing of sibilant hornets in her mind; it would not still. Beyond her means to cope she drew back her fist and slammed it into the rocky wall, trying to reach her fingers into the stone, to rip the endless monologue's tongue out of her thoughts Bright blooms of fire rooted in her fingers, and she relished the agony of bruised flesh and broken nails Nearly giddy with fatigue, she screamed out her delight, dipping her arm towards unyielding surface again and again Bone shattered, splintering into a million tiny daggers as it cut through the meat of her hand and wrist, arm and shoulder Blood splashed the craggy face in bright crimson streaks masochistic tapestry painted for her own penitent delight. Weakened by the onslaught, large chunks of stone shifted, pushing her backwards a few more feet, then stopped. She glanced at the nearly pulverized limb, cold eyes noting it's uselessness in clinical detachment Already the pain was fading, overloading her senses and shutting down into shock. It was not enough none of it was enough! With a snarl of self-loathing, she leapt from the cliff, somersaulting twice before she fixed her longing stare on rim of the cliff, now far, far above She knew she would not die but oh how she longed for it! Physical agony would have to suffice; shrill hysteria echoed off into the noiseless woods, silencing the chattering of wildlife as they watched her fall. She did not feel the impact, nor did she note the glimmering fount of blood which erupted from her mouth. Blackness consumed, and the shift was almost reflexive. She watched with unseeing eyes as her body convulsed, retching up lung-fulls of the vermilion nectar. Looking down from far above, she could almost make out the words spilling through her blood clotted throat; then all was blessed silence.
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