"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
10-06-2017, 11:02 PM (This post was last modified: 10-14-2017, 08:35 PM by Modicum Mortem.)
All his life, he had been the freak show.
The joker.
The clown.
The one everyone underestimated until they were lifeless under his dark hooves. As a child, this thought actually bothered him. He used to hate himself - the blood that coursed through his veins making him the way he was, the parents who could never truly love him, the fuckers who found it funny to pick on him. But, as he grew, as he found his strength and expanded his intelligence, he grew to enjoy the name-calling, the underestimating - because little did they know the damage he could cause, the carnage he could create.
He didn't know why he loved killing so much. It was just an innate feeling in his chest, something he was unable to control. From his early years, he loved seeing (he loved tasting)others' bleed, he loved feeling them squirm, hearing them begging for their lives. He was also unsure of why murdering foals was so intriguing to him - maybe it was because of the innocence in their eyes and how trusting they were, maybe it was because he hated them for having what he hadn't: a childhood. It wasn't something sick and twisted (well, it was, but not in a perverted way like so many assumed) - he simply enjoyed how it outraged those around him.
He smirked. Good. Let it.
He took the circumstances of his life and made them into something. Transformed himself into the clown - the one everyone despised, the one everyone dreaded. He relished in the fact that people couldn't stand his presence; he knew this so very well. He knew how hated he was - he just didn't give a fuck.
Mortem hadn't forgotten Gryffen's task - it lingered in the back of his mind every minute of every day. The test that would make him worthy - with no traits, he had so much more to prove to him. From the field, he makes his presence known, something he does not do very often. A call to anyone who sought revenge, for those who deserved death for their wrongdoings. He wanders into the dense brush once more, waiting for someone to approach - someone to "help" by destroying what destroyed them.
I had been tricked. Coaxed into his lair by temptation. Before I could turn to run I was dragged into the depths of my worst fears. Three blood caked gashes were the external evidence of my visit with Carnage. His name will forever be burned into my soul...
As I limp away from the monsters lair, the pain is a constant reminder of what I had narrowly escaped. I left still alive but was I really living? My family was drowned before my eyes. Then I was promised a paradise for a sacrifice. That too was ripped from under me. Only to be brought to my cell to be tortured some more.
Eventually he grew bored with me. Tossing me away like trash. Sending me back to a world where I now knew I was alone and unloved. I should just end it now. There was nothing worth living for anymore...
Scarlett eyes scanned the area. I often didn't seek out others but when I saw the shadowed figure looming about I couldn't help but notice his need. There was a darkness clouding his eyes. A depth of pain and suffering only few knew. Masked by a boring black facade was something I read as a desire for blood. I'd bleed...
Moving towards the creature a manic grin swept across my lips. Blood red eyes fixated on him. I held no regards for personal space. Walking straight and true. Only to stop when we were eye to eye. Now staring directly into the twisted insides of his soul. "I believe I have what you are looking for," my words darned him to prove me right. "Do it. You know you want to."
Dynast
Friends with the Monsters
She just got out of Carnage lair and is a hot suicidal mess. Might wanna change the prefix to mature!
He hears her before she approaches, but does not falter. He stands deathly still; a mere shadow in the warm summer sun. Icy hues do not look at her at first, that is, until she is close enough to him that he can smell the blood coursing through her veins. He glances up at her, and listens to her taunting...her daring words.
He laughs coldly. He has seen her before - one of Gryffen's playthings. It could go one of two ways - either the wraith likes his ballsiness in killing another Sylvan, or he grows angry. He smiles, staring at her throat, teeth itching to rip out her veins, watch the blood from them cascade like a violent waterfall. With a slight nod, he is circling her.
"Oh do you?" He questions, brow raising quizzically. "Who is your enemy? Ex-lover? Frenemy? Parent? A child like you must have some kind of pathetic vendetta." The words he spits are harsh as he stops in front of her, mouth curling into a grin. He knows what she had meant, he just likes to play with his food. "Well...unless the enemy you're trying to kill is inside you." His face falls flat, as he waits for a response.
My life has been short. Disappointing actually. I have met few, cared for fewer. Only two stand out in my mind, the water shifter and the silver stallion with blood red eyes. Both are gone. Nearly forgotten. Just as this face as been. Forgotten. Just as I have been. Forgotten.
His eyes study me intensely. The look of them insinuating I was prey. I knew this need all too well. Fore I am a predator. A shifter. I had never grazed on blades of emerald as other equines do. I preferred blood. Flesh. My eyes never left his. A demonic curl to his lips as he questions me. I was waiting and his game of cat and mouse grew tedious. My ebony ears flattened as a smart remark left my lips, "I am my own worst enemy." Tired of playing my lips pulled back, teeth barred. Catching his black pelt across his life vein. Forelimbs struck out knocking against his own. I was small, delicately framed but I'd push to get what I wanted...
Dynast
Friends with the Monsters
She doesn't draw blood or cause injury...
And for the record I don't want her to actually die die. I mean kill her but she won't technically die. XD
10-14-2017, 08:34 PM (This post was last modified: 10-14-2017, 08:36 PM by Modicum Mortem.)
"I am my own worst enemy." She states simply, and he lets out a cold laugh. Weakness, that is all she holds. Nothing more, nothing less. To kill herself out of simple sadness, how horribly pathetic. But he had to prove himself to Gryffen, and if she was so inclined to sacrifice her own pitiful skin for his cause, he would be happy to oblige.
And suddenly she is lashing out at him, trying as hard as she can to harm the clown. As her incisors tear at his skin, as her hooves catch his chest, His eyes go red. He cannot see straight as he lunges forward, pushing her up against a tree, teeth bared just begging to pull off the skin and see the muscles inside.
"Fucking bitch," He seethes, the blood in his veins running hot and fast. Adrenaline feels familiar and pulsing. "I will rip your fucking heart out." He growls, letting her go abruptly and backing away. He turns sharply on his heels, and begins to walk away.
"Prove to me that your insides are what needs killing," He murmurs under his breath. "And then I may be inclined to do so."
Modicum Mortem
They all float…
@[Dynast] Changed to mature for the sake of the soon-to-be murder xD
Carnage had ruined me. Stripped the innocence from my flesh and soul. Branding me his own. Digging into the depths of my heart, finding fears when I believed I had none. Now that they were known I feared nothing. Not death. Not torment. Not life. Not yet...
I felt nothing but this growing need to look into the face of fear and spit in it. So when my body is thrusted into wood and he is seething, I simply grin. A manic chuckle escapes as he releases me and turns his back to me. Wrong move! A flick of my tail was all that it took to turn tassels into tentacles. The drapery of electric cords tingled on my nape as well. Scarlett eyes narrow on him as I hiss, "It's you or me clown! Maybe you aren't the killer you claim to be. Just a pathetic wanna be." I taunt as I follow his movements with my own. Slashing my tentacles across my hindquarters. The burning sensation igniting my predator inside. Do it! I chant in my mind. I dare you...
10-15-2017, 07:38 PM (This post was last modified: 10-15-2017, 07:39 PM by Modicum Mortem.)
"Maybe you aren't the killer you claim to be...maybe you're just a pathetic wannabe." The mare screeches with a cackle. He cannot contain the howl of laughter that emerges from the bottom of his throat, as he stops dead in his tracks. He looks back to the shifter, whose tentacles flick harshly against the ends of her rump.
"You do not know me," He states simply, pausing in between. "You do not know the things I have done, what I am capable of..." A full turn to face her. "You underestimate me?" He raises a singular left brow, and tilts his head. All he needed was an answer, and she would have what she craved - and he would have what he needed.
He moves closer to her now, circling her as if she is prey, staring her down. He is careful to avoid her stingers,although he wouldn't care if they struck him anyways. "Because that could easily be your worst mistake."
My eyes burn into his. His words nor laughter impress me. My mind unchanged. With a shrug of my shoulder I step forwards as if I am leaving. He circles like a vulture to the corpse he wishes to feed upon. Yet I remain alive. "Guess I was wrong to think you were capable of such a task..." My eyes that had been narrowed slits upon him open again in boredom. I had no time to waste and as he danced about I find myself wasting more. He barks threats at me. Seeing as that's all they were, threats, I take my leave. Beginning to crest into the shadows of the nearby forests. My head held high, upturned, and back to the creature who had offered me so much promise...
That is all he lets out, as she speaks her daring words. Then, a smile. An evil, sadistic grin that could've come straight out of a horror movie - his teeth flash brilliantly in the midday sunlight, as he watches her begin to walk away.
You asked for it. He thinks calmly. He lets her get away briefly, until suddenly he is lunging at the dark mare. The impact manages to knock her down, and he is upon her, all teeth and hooves - gnashing canines and flailing feet. The coppery taste of blood ignites his lust further; his vision is red with it - he cannot get enough of the taste.
He isn't sure if she had even been aware of what was going on up until this point, so he keeps her just enough alive to see the horror painted on that beautiful face. He looks down to her chest, where her barely beating heart lays so effortlessly behind...
The skin peels back easily, exposing the inner workings beneath. Her muscles contract gently as she barely breaths, and for a fleeting moment, he is struck by it; it had been so long since he had last killed. So long since he had seen the last moments of life slip through someone's fingers. So long since he watched the light fade from someone's eyes.
His head plunges into her chest, and he takes out his souvenir for Gryffen - this is how he would prove his worth to him, by bringing back the dead woman's heart. Another shrieking cackle emerges from the opening of his lips. He has literally pulled at her heart strings, and the bitch's ticker dangles outside her body.
"Tick, tock! Tick, tock!" He teases fiendishly. "Time to float!"
He rips her little heart out, leaving nothing but the corpse behind. Gryffen wouldn't need to see it...Mortem's body was soaked in blood, his head caked with her insides..and of course, he has the gift. It swings almost playfully from his mouth as he trots away.
I'm every nightmare you've ever had. I'm your worst dream come true.
Modicum Mortem
They all float…
@[Dynast]
Permission to "kill" and take her heart given by @[Neo]
If you want anything changed, don't hesitate to let me know!!!
He hadn't known but I had been watching from the corner of my blood red eyes.
Waiting.
I knew he would do it. My body collapses to the hard earth. He expects fear in my eyes but all he'll see is my greedy want. Perhaps in the blur of things it looked like fear. I do not fight back as he tosses me into a position to expose the weakened space of my chest. To access the pulsating muscle inside me. Little did I know how worthless it really was.
As it's ripped from me I gasp for breath. My eyes see him dangling it from between his teeth like a shiney trinket. Good, I tellmyself. I had nothing to live for anyhow. Allowing darkness to consume me, my body lying still. I feel nothing.
...
Immortality.
What a cruel gift he bestowed upon me. In my moment of peace there was a burning, a hardening of veins that had emptied of blood as my body cavity was ripped apart. An immortal didn't need blood, nor the mass that caused it's flow. Breathing was nothing more than a instinct. A synapse of the brain. I hadn't realized that my body had shifted to my other form. Regenerating the wound across my chest.
As I shifted from one form to the next - in a new awakened state - I thrashed my limbs at the air around me. My crown rising sharply in protest, "No! No! Noooo! This can't be happening! Why?! FUCK!" I yell bitterly. My eyes fleeting across my alive body. Pulling myself up to stand I can feel a stinging pain across my chest. The semi healed wound from where he had extracted my organ was large and grotesque. "Well isn't that just fucking GREAT! " I grumble as I look about the area. Unknowing how long I had laid there dead.
Fuming, my nostrils flared as a irritated snort rumbled deep within me. My eyes burned red in distaste as I cast them upwards to the heavens, "FUCK you, Carnage!" I hiss to where I am sure he is laughing hysterically at me. Deciding to not waste anymore time here I taste a hint of saltwater in the air. Time for a long soak, I think to myself...
