05-05-2018, 09:34 AM
god make me pay
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
She fights him the entire way, and though most would see it as brave and formidable, Maugrim only sees it as foolish. There was no point in the struggle, in attempting to get away from him. She is in his domain, and she will come to know that when she is within the water’s clutches, she will never be free. No longer will she be able to sunbathe in the shallows of the ocean without picturing him, knowing that he could appear at any given moment and take her beneath the depths. He wonders idly if she will ever see the sun again, here beneath the dense canopies of the forest or the cave in which he has already planned to harbor her, with his dark and placid lake waiting cruelly for her.
Once he has her in the middle of Sylva, he only then allows her some peace - and it is only given because she is so near exhaustion that anything he may try to do to her would be less than ideal. He did not care for an unconscious victim, and he would wait patiently for her to stir awake. During that time, darkness encompasses them as night falls on Sylva, and the algae-and-lavender stallion stands over her with a dark and emotionless expression, black eyes carving out each wound he had created and the way her lungs shudder with each inhale and exhale. He should call for Modicum, for it had been his mission to bring her back for the clown, but Maugrim does not. He will do what he is told when it benefits him, and when it does not, he will disobey.
His allegiance is to himself and the water, alone.
Soon, her eyes flicker open. Bloodshot and blurred - looking intently around but not really seeing anything - and Maugrim stares into them hungrily, his breath hot against her poll as he lets her know that even in her blindness, he is here. He says nothing to her, not yet, and he wonders if she realizes where she is, or what exactly has happened besides being thrown into the ocean. She smells of saltwater and blood, still damp from the journey. His pale lips suck at her auburn skin, tasting the ocean that has soaked into her flesh, eyes flashing with intent. There is no sexuality in the kisses he places on her battered skin, hungrily roving her neck for the metallic taste of blood mixed with his sweet seawater.
“You are safe now,” he purrs in a whisper, still hovering over her and licking the water and blood from her body like a predator tasting its prey. “I will keep you safe.” He croons to her hauntingly on the muddy shoreline of the black lake, with the yawning abyss of his cave right behind them, beckoning them into its jaws.
Once he has her in the middle of Sylva, he only then allows her some peace - and it is only given because she is so near exhaustion that anything he may try to do to her would be less than ideal. He did not care for an unconscious victim, and he would wait patiently for her to stir awake. During that time, darkness encompasses them as night falls on Sylva, and the algae-and-lavender stallion stands over her with a dark and emotionless expression, black eyes carving out each wound he had created and the way her lungs shudder with each inhale and exhale. He should call for Modicum, for it had been his mission to bring her back for the clown, but Maugrim does not. He will do what he is told when it benefits him, and when it does not, he will disobey.
His allegiance is to himself and the water, alone.
Soon, her eyes flicker open. Bloodshot and blurred - looking intently around but not really seeing anything - and Maugrim stares into them hungrily, his breath hot against her poll as he lets her know that even in her blindness, he is here. He says nothing to her, not yet, and he wonders if she realizes where she is, or what exactly has happened besides being thrown into the ocean. She smells of saltwater and blood, still damp from the journey. His pale lips suck at her auburn skin, tasting the ocean that has soaked into her flesh, eyes flashing with intent. There is no sexuality in the kisses he places on her battered skin, hungrily roving her neck for the metallic taste of blood mixed with his sweet seawater.
“You are safe now,” he purrs in a whisper, still hovering over her and licking the water and blood from her body like a predator tasting its prey. “I will keep you safe.” He croons to her hauntingly on the muddy shoreline of the black lake, with the yawning abyss of his cave right behind them, beckoning them into its jaws.
m a u g r i m.
@[Krone]