Realistic or Modern A Night Bleeds (Closed)

[Silver-]

SILVER BLACKWOOD
Tags: Out Of Words | Location: Unknown​

Brambles endowed with prickly thorns swallowed the wolves into an endless tunnel that barred them from the cacophony of civilization and into what felt more like a tear in the reality that most people never lived to see. A glance over her shoulder warranted a greeting from said warped reality in the form of a yawning pit that held no sign of revealing where their footfalls had just stepped upon. The unforgiving vegetation began closing in just as they passed by what sounded to be something along the lines of a construction site and the uproars of cars whisking past on a highway. She couldn’t make out any shapes aside from Midnight’s figure as if the brambles were purposely shielding them from sight while also providing a sort of passage—but to where, she wondered. There was nothing left to do but follow the other wolf as he confidently strode forward, his unwavering gait enough to convince her that he knew where they were headed next. Just as they were moving forward due to the fact that the space behind them was no longer accessible, the tunnel they stepped through began to feel increasingly tighter as thorns that once lingered threateningly above the tips of Silver’s ears now forced her head to lower as they lapped at her back and shoulders, causing her to have to proceed at a stalking pace. It felt as if they’d be stripped of air soon, even. No time to complain. Tucking her ears tautly to her skull, her momentary lapse in focus earned her a tail to the face and she huffed softly in annoyance at herself. Midnight’s fur rippled with effort as he tore at the bramble that no longer guided them but now trapped them in a barbed cocoon. Silver pressed herself against the unyielding wall to wedge herself into the small space beside Midnight as best as she could without pushing him to far into the spinous wall, her maw twisting into a snarl as she sunk her own teeth into the brambles. A familiar iron tang hit the roof of her mouth along with the sensation of being bitten back in a way as the thorns pierced her left side and the inside of her mouth, but she could’ve cared less. The fae wouldn’t allow Midnight to do this alone.

 

[Maeteris]

Evelyn Harper

Her vision swam, she didnt fight it, the sensation passed quickly and before she knew it she’s in the Harper industries HQ boardroom. The high glass windows flanking the side provided ample view of LA. Sunlight gazing into the room, glinting over the polished wood table.

Her neck feels heavy and so were her limbs, she moved an arm, it refused with a jingle of chains. An alarm went off in her head, amplified a thousand fold when she finally noticed her father standing smugly with a leash in hand--a leash leading back to her. A growl rose from her throat, dying out quickly as a chorus of jeers came from the assembly.

She didn’t know these people. Her fingers dug into her palm. They have the gall to demand something from her?! The one who’s been working non-stop for this company for well over three centuries when they themselves hadn’t even warmed the seats they were on!

A pull on her neck sent her tilting forward, almost stumbled forward if she hadn't dug into her knees. Jaw clenched to keep the emotional outburst from manifesting. “This is unfair and--” She looked down on her chains accusingly, “Highly unprofessional--and out of conduct!” Rule of steel, Varya. Do not let their accusations veer you away from the actual violation in progress.

“Do you hear yourself father? Do you see what you are doing? Do none of you see what is wrong with this picture?” She tried raising her shackled hands. “I am not prop--Coven? What Coven?” She sneered at the board members with as much contempt as she could muster. She could’ve ignored them, tuned them out like sheeps they were, dealing with an unruly crowd for decades had taught her that skill, but they had her shackled, pig mortals had her--Varya Scuris, Exarch de Carcassone--in binds and knelt before them! She would not let them off easy.

Her gaze turned back to her father, her curiosity piqued, smoldering with anger. “You--you’re a traitor, father. I should have known your thirst for power would lead you to forsake the Aelven creed.” She spat to the side. “Your legacy does not mean shit by cohorting with these mortals. Kill me or release me, either way, I shall report this to the Conglomerate.” She glared into sharp teeth, her father’s maw opening wider than she had ever seen the male elf did.

location: Los Angeles??• tags • Smoldering Contempt • Outfit • interactions

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Razial Hale

SPOILER WARNING
Spoilers below for other characters involved with the Wright Wranch

Tags: Maylee Vinegar Bees | Location: Coven HQ​

"Saaaaaaaaaage." The voice was different from Sage's calming rumble. This one had a natural teasing tone, with a heavy pinch of disdain, and more than a cup full of sarcasm. "What are you doing?" The dark haired male came to peer down at Maylee over Sage's shoulder.

Sage gave a grin and looked at the man before glancing back to Maylee. "Trying to calm. She's confused and upset and.." Sage stopped talking when the other man patted the top of Sage's head, like one would pat the head of a child. He was one of the few who had never been mean to the minotaur. Not in ways the minotaur could understand anyway.

"Saaaage. No. That's not what we want. We want her to embrace it. Do you remember how good you felt to stand up for yourself?" Still he patted Sage's head. "We want Maylee here to do the same. She's a very powerful witch, or.. could be, if she just embraces it." Sage looked confused now, but the dark haired man nudged Sage to give up his seat, and the larger man did, moving off to the side.

The dark haired man sat down, crossing his legs at the knees and making sure he was -just- out of reach. "Hello, love. My name is Razial. And I'm going to help you find your magic." One hand moved to 'air boop' Maylee's nose before drawing back. "Now, your mother, Yan, was a beautiful woman, and a more beautiful witch."

When he talked, Razial just oozed a demeanor of self importance and confidence most never felt in their lifetime. "But you, love, oh, you can be so much more. So, I know you've just woken up, but.. let's help that along, shall we?" Razial moved out of the seat to stand next to the table Maylee was strapped down on. "Saaaage, make sure no one comes in, or out, just..." He did a little dissmissive hand wave. "Go block the door and be an immovable object, yes?"

As soon as Sage complied, Razial faced the table fully, his hands coming up to make a few gestures as he chanted quietly. In moments, his magic began to thread and wrap down his forearms starting at the palms of his hands. Like red lightning, it became a tangible, visible entity of its own. "Puer receperint ac tenebras."

Razial was undoing the seal placed upon her magic by the Coven so long ago.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Griffin Banks

Tags: Vinegar Bees Britt-21 Rhyme ⬇
Location: HQ ​

Banks felt like he was walking a fine, thin line from the time Coda killed Roje and brought her back, what the fuck, to Winnie trying to escape in the mayhem that was the present. He was intimidated by Coda, who wouldn't be, but he still felt responsible for Winnie. "Yeah, thanks. I got it."

He moved to make sure the cell was closed with Winnie inside as Coda moved to take control of Roje it seemed. Some other coven guy sealed the wards around the cell, and Banks was left looking at Winnie with a bit of regret in his expression. Tired regret.

A hand moved through his hair as he turned around in time to get Key's speech about Roje and Indy being sisters, and then Coda just barely refraining from losing his shit as he tossed Roje into one of the open cells. Fuuuuuuuuuck.

This had gone from bad to worse in seconds, and left Banks wondering about requesting transfer back to Miami. Probably not this moment, didn't seem like it would be a prudent, or wise idea. So he remained silent, standing still within the room holding Winnie's cell in the back. Were the cuffs still coming off of those now caged? Didn't seem to do much with Morgan or Foster in panic situations, but at least Morgan was in his cell.

Key seemed to have the same idea, more or less, as he looked to Banks. "You can remove Winnie's cuffs and collar, the magical wards will dampen her ability." And he walked over to hand Banks a small device that was little more than a key card. "Swipe this across each device and it should unlock."

Banks gave a grin and a nod, then turned to do so, smiling a little at Winnie. Glad he could at least take those things off her. He moved to the bars, "Winnie. Here, give me one of your wrists."

coded by natasha.

 

[Britt-21]

Tags: Vinegar Bees Rhyme Out Of Words | Location: The Demon's Lair

When Roje heard Indy over her screams, her eyes widen as her struggles became more violent "Kittenette!!!" she shouted "Don't you dare! It's not worth it!" her heart was out of control now, the fear rising for her newly found sister. Always wanting a sister as a child was a longing she knew she wouldn't ever get. But finding out that this woman was her sister, she was going to fight till her last dying breath -again- just to keep her alive. "It's not worth getting blood on your fucking hands!" the young Vampire had plenty of blood on her hands and knew that once you kill, it stays with you forever. It plagued the mind like a sickness till it wiped out it's victims and conquered the world. Despite her violent thrashes, Coda held her tightly to him, making it harder for her to move. A sudden wave of hunger rushed over her. Though Roje couldn't react to the feeling in time because she was thrown into a cell of her own with such force and collapsing onto the floor, growling as she sat herself up and looked back to Coda who slammed her door shut and turned away from her, locking her within the cell.

"You son of a bitch!" getting up to her feet, she rushed up to the bars and grabbed them tightly, knuckles turning white in the process before she tried to shake them violently with her own strength. But of course, they were strong as fuck and wouldn't give out. Those hazel eyes landed on him, listening as he coughed and the scent of sulfur hit her nose as if she had just been slapped in the face with it. Was he...Was he coughing up blood? I don't care what the hell is going on anymore, I want to get my fucking supposedly sister, out of this demon lair. She didn't need to be dragged into this. This is for supernaturals of evil. Vampires, Demons, Evil Coven members like Key. Shoving herself away from the bars, she began to slowly pace within the cell she was placed in. So much for being on the side that didn't make her a prisoner. Suddenly her stomach began to hurt, making it perfectly clear that she was hungry. Though that's what she thought. But in reality, she still hadn't known about the bond with Coda, in which she was starting to feel the hunger he was feeling.

It was definitely a different feeling from her usual hunger pains. This one...was a little more intense. As if she hadn't eaten for a month or so. One thing after another with this guy, I should have Killed him when I had the chance. Right in the middle of my living room. Sitting in that chair, messing around with that fucking magic in his hand... If she killed him then, she wouldn't be here now. She wouldn't have found out about her little sister. An innocent soul who was dragged into this. The vampire was so stressed, frustrated and Angry that she just wanted to scream and cry her eyes out. Doing that would only show weakness to her captors now. So she held it all in. It was similar to the situation back in the past. Going through a portal, seeing Fae that made her want to punch each one. Especially those who felt up on her man... Then the queen...Ooohhhhoho the Queen. Wanting to rip that bitch's head off for hurting her lover, for flirting with him... It's the same, it's literally the fucking same. I'm going to go insane, I can feel it. I'm a vampire but I have sanity too...Whatever fucking is left of it. her breathing was a bit rough, almost as if she couldn't keep up with her own body.

Lucky bastard Banks was the only one even remotely sane from this insanity.​

 

[Vinegar Bees]

She stiffened and flinched in surprise when the man, huge and formidable as he was, laid a hand on her arm as if to steady her—he wasn't hurting her, she realized dimly, but rational thought was quickly chased from her brain when her mother's name passed his lips. Yan—her own time with her mother had been too short for anything but vague impressions of memories, the sharpest being the yearning for a warmth the woman seemed incapable of providing—but she had learned her name after almost demanding it from Dad. Hearing it always sent a little rip of pain through her, and now was no different.

Why did this man know her mother's name? And what else did he know? Magic? She wanted me to have... magic? What the hell—?

A shudder ran through her, and, with teeth gritted, she began to tremble harder; the man—Sage, he said—was trying his best to calm her down, his voice a thick yet gentle rumble, but she didn't particularly want to calm down, her body weighed down with restraints and her mind with thoughts of her mother.

And then—

The Coven. There was an eerie familiarity to the term Sage used, and, reaching back in her memory, Maylee fumbled for a smooth, gentle voice just out of reach. A group had come, the voice said, and taken some faeries, skinwalkers, a minotaur—

Angry tears burned at the back of her throat. Cillian... Oh, God. Cillian.

Her body would not calm down as the gentle man continued to speak—there was an earnest simplicity to his voice and mannerisms as he produced a box and offered first a lollipop, then a weathered plush cow. A pang tore through Maylee's chest at the sight, and all at once she remembered flinging Winkle cruelly onto the floor. How much time had passed since then? Was he still there, gathering dust...?

Her hands clenched at her sides, the fur still growing along her arms bristling as she tried to wrestle words from an increasingly-feral tongue. Before she could raise her voice, though, another's eclipsed it. It was at once smooth like honey and sticky, too, clinging unpleasantly to her skin as its source slid over like water. Sage, though formidable in appearance, had an opaque, genial voice; this newcomer was altogether the opposite, untold secrets crawling behind a silver tongue and venomous dark eyes.

A shudder ran violently through Maylee as the man came closer, ordering Sage away and taking a seat in his place. Every cell in her body screamed in protest at his strange, alien insistence that she was, somehow, a witch—a powerful one at that—and the insidious lies angered her so deeply that, the moment he made himself comfortable in the chair, she flung herself at him with a violent cry.

Of course, she scarcely moved more than an inch before the restraints yanked her body back, stars flooding her field of vision as the back of her head snapped against the table she was bound to. Angry, rasping breaths quivered and threatened to melt into sobs, and she forced the latter back by channeling a throaty, wolfish snarl of frustration. She didn't understand. She didn't understand. Why did this man know her mother's name? Why was he telling her she had been a witch? Why was he convinced that she, herself, was somehow more...?

You don't understand, she wanted to scream out. I am not my mother's daughter. She had no use for me. I was only in her way—!

Rage and grief spun together in a heady waltz within her. This man, Razial, whoever he was—he was mocking her, right? Surely he was mocking her. If she had even a fraction of the power he seemed to impute to her, she wouldn't have stood by so uselessly while Dad and Papa were slaughtered like animals.

Finally, her gritted teeth separated long enough for her voice, thick and guttural, to force its way through: "What—the fuck—are you talking about?!" Each breath was strained and tight, as if the restraints were squeezing her lungs inert, too. "My mother—if you're expecting me to be anything like her—you'll be even more disappointed in me than she was—ah—!"

A sudden, skull-splitting pain rent her body as red streams of magic struck out swiftly and hungrily from Razial's fingertips; throwing her head back in agony, Maylee tore at her own ears with a painful shriek as white-hot, blinding pain pulsed behind eyes she wrenched shut. Tendons in her neck strained; stars exploded against her eyelids, and as the catastrophe consuming her neared a crescendo, Maylee heard herself cry out for her mother.

She wasn't sure whether it was a plea or a curse.

( Tags: Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Razial Hale

Tags: Maylee Vinegar Bees | Location: Coven HQ​

Razial continued to chant, the red magic growing brighter and brighter. The seal on Maylee would be responding, probably trying to defend against an unknown attack. Making her back tight and tense like a brick wall. The longer Razial chanted, the more painful it would be. And it went on longer.

About five minutes were spent in this chanting, with the red glow brighter and brighter still. Sage had to cover his ears from the screaming as it made him want to go and help, but he had been told to block the door. And Razial wasn't one you disobeyed. Learned that very early on and never repeated the mistake.

When Razial felt the unlocking spell had reached its zenith, he laid his magic laden hands upon Maylee directly. Heat and electric currents would be forced through every fiber of her body as the seal finally unlocked, and the magic inside was given a long sought after freedom.

Razial sat back down in the chair, a little winded from the exertion, but he usually recovered quickly. More so as he took a small vial from a pocket and dumped the contents into his mouth. For a moment, his eyes flashed bright white before it settled. Now he just sat there, letting the dust refill his spent energy and magic. All while he watched with great interest the results of Maylee's magic being set free at last.

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

Winnie's ears were ringing with from the impact of slamming into the wall of her cell, her arms clutched feebly around ribs that shrieked in pain at the touch. Distantly, faintly, she could hear harsh, angry voices—Key, Roje, Indy; somewhere beneath them all, Coda's animal breath rasped hungrily—but all sights and sounds had constricted to pinpricks in the face of immediate, unrelenting danger. Winnie backed herself as far into a corner of her cell as she could, her arms scrambling up to shield her head, instead; more than anything else, she did not want to be here, and if she just wished it hard enough, she wondered whether she might turn to stone, cold and bereft of pain.

My Lady, she found herself calling out silently, why am I here? What did I do? Please, please come back. Save me. Allow me one more chance, just one, I'll never disappoint you again—

And then another voice, low and gentle, cut through her heart roaring in her ears, and Winnie trembled violently as she lowered her arms from her head and looked up at a stolid, smiling Banks.

Banks—the only thing in this nightmare that was even of remote comfort. When he summoned her to the bars, Winnie feverishly obliged, racing toward him like a dog greeting its master. Her hands curled around the bars as her forehead knocked into them, an inexorable barrier reminding her of her place beneath Banks. And yet her magnanimous guard still smiled at her.

When he directed her to offer her wrist, Winnie shakily slipped one of them through the bars, her eyes straining for a frightened glimpse at Key—was this some sort of trick? After every sinister trick he had pulled, she somehow couldn't imagine Key allowing her to shed her cuffs so easily, but indeed, Banks swiped a little keycard across her wrist, and the cuff snapped open and fell into his hand cupped beneath. An excited tremor ran through her as she offered her other wrist and was similarly extricated, and she swept a thumb across her now-bare wrists, the leather of her gloves crinkling as she traced one of the fat, plum-colored bruises she had expected. The brief interstice of skin between her glove and sleeve was unnerving, and Winnie hurriedly pulled the cuff of her sleeve to cover it.

Banks's hand began to draw back through the bars, his task complete; hastily and perhaps foolishly, Winnie wrenched her feeble little hands around his wrist, squeezing desperately.

"Th-thank you," she mumbled, Banks's image in front of her swimming as tears rippled in her eyes. "Thank you. Please... please don't go far."

Then, head lowered in contrition, she released his hand and scooted back to the wall of her cell, pressing herself up as far away from Key and the others as she could get.

"Please don't leave me alone."

( Tags: Out Of Words )​

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

A Simple Life | Current Timeline: ??? ​

Tags: Edwin Thropian

The mother bear and her cubs moved deeper into the thicker woods, with Edwin padding along behind. They left the cave they had spent a year in, no longer safe, no longer home. Now they needed a new one. Hopefully one where man wouldn't be able to track them down so easily. It might be a long journey, but they were together, and that was what mattered.

The longer they traveled, the more the nature seemed to be thriving, colors were richer, vibrant. The sounds of the birds shifted, sounded more real as they were singing individual songs. They passed by a river teaming with fish, looked like salmon trying to swim upstream for their mating season.

The mother bear took a detour to the river, figuring it was a good time for a food break. They let Edwin rest on the banks while she helped the cubs learn how to catch fish. It was peaceful, it was serene, it should have felt right and just. It should have felt like home.

And maybe it would have, save for the glimpse Edwin had of a white wolf in the trees on the other side. However, when he moved to look at it directly, it was gone. Or the brief visage of a spotted yellow feline lazily lounging in the branch of a tree. Gone next time he blinked.

No, this was fine. This was good, everything just the way it should be. One of the cubs brought a fish to him, dropped it at his paws and gave a little woof of a sound, stub tail wagging. This was fine.

Everything was fine.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Good Guys Finish Last | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Rhyme Britt-21
Location: HQ

While Banks was taking the suppression units off Winnie, Key tilted his head and looked to where Coda stood. He could feel the man's tightly coiled spring from where Key stood. "Coda." Once he had some type of a response, a shoulder movement, a head nod, a look, something, he quietly added, "Please come here a moment."

Key trusted the half demon to do as asked, so he waited, not even sparing a glance to Roje or Indy. When Coda did come close enough, he kept his voice lowered, but wasn't truly caring if it was overheard. "The task we spoke about on the plane?" Again, he paused for some type of acknowledgement. "It's time."

One hand did a sweeping motion toward the room where Banks was finishing up with Winnie, and started to turn around to see what else Key needed. "Remember. Don't kill. Just make him wish you had." Key was going to stay nearby, but outside of the room itself. He found it best to observe at a small distance.

Banks seemed to know something really bad was coming. How could he not? He had heard Key's words, and saw Coda moving toward him. Yeah well, something in him knew this was too good to be true. "Winnie. Face the corner. Got it? I order you, face the corner and do not look." Maybe he could spare Winnie some of it.

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

(CONTENT WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE)

It's time.

The words echoed in his ears, an eerie chorus like the wordless chant of wind chimes. He hated wind chimes. There had been a pair hanged by the front door of Adrien and Malik's house, and on that eerie, quiet night, the wind at the windows had whipped them into a cacophonous chorus that still drifted through his head in moments of half-sleep.

A shudder traced his veins as he turned to look at Banks. Why him? What exactly had the inoffensive cop done to incur Key's merciless punishment? Well, it didn't really matter what he had done, did it? Every atom of Coda's body was clamoring for blood, and here it was on a silver platter.

As far as I'm concerned, they're all in my way.

His fist was still clenched, and the sharp sting of his fallen teeth biting into his palm drew his eye downward. With a fleeting twitch, he loosened and then tightened the fist again, allowing the teeth to clatter to the floor in a noise that pierced his ears much louder than it should have.

The look in Banks's eyes told him he knew, and Coda's gaze drifted past him to the runt pressing up against the bars of her cage as Banks addressed her for a final time.

"No, no, no, please, Banks—" Her voice was thin and reedy and grating. "Banks, no, no, please just, just run, I—please, you're not locked up or anything, please just..."

Her voice trailed off weakly. Banks had already made his decision, it seemed, and then, startlingly, the scrawny little vampire fixed her eyes on him instead.

"Coda," she cried out, her pale gray eyes boring into his. "Coda, please, just listen to me, please—I don't know what you've been through, or, or—but—I know you're more than this; I know—you're not a villain, Coda, you're not—"

He stiffened as a jolt ran through him. What the hell? What does she know about me—? Lip curling back in disgust, he prepared to fire a vicious dismissal at her, but all at once her eyes were growing, widening, filling his vision; Coda found himself swaying dizzily as he was drawn into her gaze.

"Please, Coda. I know you have someone you love. We all do, even the worst of us. Even me. You see? I love Banks, Coda, I do—"

Images flashed across his field of vision, interposed over his own sight; he watched, confused and disoriented, as he stood in a room like the one he and Indy had shared for a night, and Banks stood over him, reaching to pull a box of crackers from a shelf high above Coda's head.

What the hell—this isn't my memory. This is hers.

"I don't want him to get hurt. Please. You have someone you don't want to get hurt, too; I know you do."

The images in front of him twisted, and Coda hissed through gritted teeth as he wrenched his eyes shut; Banks's spectral form shattered and reassembled into a little girl with scabbed knees and a pigeon-toed stance and a pair of ribbons fluttering at the ends of her pigtails.

"It's okay." Winnie's voice, distant, serene. "I see her, too."

"No," he hissed, clenching his hands over his eyes as they pulsed with pain. "No, you little freak, get out of my head—"

"It's okay. Don't fight it, Coda. She's trying to reach you."

The little girl grinned and waved jovially, her lips forming a greeting; behind her, the dark, skulking form of a wolf lurked.

"Your sister? I see her. She's lovely, Coda. She is. I had a sister, too, a long time ago. My treasure." The vision in front of him rippled slightly as Winnie's voice wavered, but then it was back, that skin-crawling wrongness as the little vampire probed around inside his head. "Don't fight her, Coda. She wants to talk to you."

She did. She was trying to say something to him, her lips forming a familiar syllable that had become anathema to his ears; horrifyingly, he heard the beginning of the sound pass Winnie's lips as she plucked it from his brain:

"She just wants to talk to you, K—"

No no no that's not my name that's not my name that's not my—

And so he cut it off with a baleful cry pulled down from the darkest depths within him, and with a feral, frenzied rage, Coda threw himself at Banks and drove him violently into the bars of the cell.

Winnie was shrieking, every bit of feigned serenity ripped from her voice. "Banks, Banks, just run, please, BANKS—"

No. No one runs from me.

Coda grasped Banks by the shoulders and tossed him violently to the floor, his head spinning with rage; as he launched a heavy, clubbed fist again and again and again at the shape on the floor, it transformed; one moment, it was Banks, and then, like a snake, it shed its skin and was Maria, and then Adrien, Malik; it was Roje, it was Indy, it was Key, and then it was Maylee as she pleaded for him to tell her why, and then it was his own skin draped over the figure, the most detestable creature of them all—

With a wet, furious squelch, Coda brought his bludgeoning fists down onto a face that had grown unrecognizable in its pulpy, bloody ruin, but breath still hissed from between its cracked lips, fingers still twitched—

Fingers. Fingers, fingers. Coda's vision was a fractured blur, his lungs bursting in his ears as he reached down and violently grasped one of the trembling hands; tucking the fingers between his own teeth, he tasted blood as he gripped the arm at the shoulder and elbow—

"BANKS, NO, BANKS, PLEASE—"

—and tore it away with a harrowing crunch; bone, muscle, skin all spurting hot blood as it dangled out of his hungry mouth.

One down. Three to go.

( Tags: Out Of Words | Rhyme | Britt-21 )​

coda.

half-demon

 

[Britt-21]

Tags: Out Of Words Vinegar Bees Rhyme | Location: ....

Hearing that son of a bitch, Key, was irritating her. Almost making her sick. However, what she heard had made her eyes widen and whip her head in that direction. W-What? No. HE'S GOING TO KILL BANKS! No no no no. She couldn't let this happen again. Roje threw herself into the bars, screaming and doing what she could to break the bars to no avail. No, not another innocent. Not like this! it felt like her soul was being torn in two. The words that followed after informing Coda... Had made her wish she was the one out there instead of Banks. He was the only one who didn't have to suffer this hell the way everyone else was. He was almost clueless in it all... Maybe that's why Coda was losing his mind, the smell of an innocent soul driving him up the wall. This thought alone made her so mad but with all the emotions swirling within her mind, all she could think of is saving Banks regardless of her feelings. Backing up from the bars, she tried kicking the door off with her strength, using her body. Everything she could to break open that door.

Unfortunately it didn't Budge. Fucking Coven and their damn magic! "CODA! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" she shouted, grasping onto the bars with her hands and shaking her head. "KITTENETTE COVER YOUR EARS AND CLOSE YOUR EYES!" if she was going to save anyone without physically doing so, it was going to be her sister. Man what the fuck. I'm going to hear the past all over again... I'm not prepared for this but I need to be. she thought, her eyes filling with tears. Roje began fighting the frown that threatened her face and pursed her lips tightly. Shaking her head over and over again, trying to fight what was to come. Trying to prepare her body for the screams, the blood that would fill her nose, the growling and roars from the demon in the room. This was far worse than she had imagined. Perhaps maybe it was time to stop trying to be a badass and start doing the right thing. Become a cop or something..Though it was possibly too late. The underside of the world was so ugly, so cruel, and no one knew a damn thing about it. It was for the best. It was so cruel, violent, terrifying...no one deserved to see any of it. No one.

She knew her words fell on deaf ears because she began to hear the other girl trying to calm down Coda, but from her ears, there was no calming him down. The breathing, the rapid heart... Coda wasn't going to back down. Not with that rage. Soon enough the girl yelled out Banks name and Roje began to hear the scuffle, she could only imagine what was going on as the sounds filled her ears, closing her eyes tightly, tears began to stream down her face Fuck...fuck...I couldn't do anything... the smell of human blood began to fill her nose and she knew that it was getting bad. Suddenly her eyes snapped open, the hazel now glossed in gold as she stared into nothingness. Her hands grasping tightly onto the bars to keep herself up before slowly sliding down and onto the ground where she sat. The tears only flowing more as her hands eventually came to her mouth at the scene she was looking at.

Roje was looking at an unrecognizable form of Banks. It was so gruesome it almost made her puke from the sight. Her ears picking up the faint sound of his breath before fists had slammed into his face one last time. W-Why am I...S-Seeing this what.... her body began to tremble, not wanting a front row seat to this. She wasn't doing the hitting, and she knew that because the hands were not her own. From the looks of it, she was dragged into his mind, looking through his eyes. How to turn it off? She had no idea. But she was forced to watch as Coda shove the fingers into his mouth before ripping the arm straight off of Banks. The crunch making her body cringe and the blood spewing out. Before she knew it, she was back in her cell, looking at the back wall while her back was to the bars. Her body trembling as tears streamed down her face I cant take this anymore...Dean I wish you were here...Dusk... Joe...Twig... Nancy...any of you... I can't do this alone...I'm useless... I'm a prisoner just like the others...

Her head tilted back, trying not to sob as her eyes shut tightly I may be a hard ass... I may kick ass...but there's only so much I can do. the words of an old friend rang in her mind "There's always someone who has had more, or is stronger, faster, a better fighter, a better lover.." almost a bittersweet laugh left her lips as she shook her head, hands over her mouth still. "As long as you need whatever I can give you, you have my card, darlin'." ha...right... Dusk was gone. He wasn't coming back...Not after the incident. Her mind began to go into the safe haven that was her dream she had hours ago on that plane. Recalling very specific moments when she spoke "I've been Cocky and Arrogant all my life and I'm still somehow alive." that was true, she was even alive in this situation. "I act like a cocky bitch, but I know that there are others out there to shoot me down. It helps me push, it helps me go the extra mile when I need it." but could that even be applied here? There was no help. She had to rely on herself, she had to push. There were others to shoot her down, but if that's what helped her push...Then so be it.

Though right now... She was at her lowest. Seeing such a beaten face of an innocent being... and hearing/seeing the arm being torn with that crunch... She hit rock bottom and she needed to get out of it.​

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Griffin Banks

Tags: Vinegar Bees Britt-21 Rhyme ⬇
Location: Heading Home ​

Banks had tried to keep Winnie out of it, shielded even to the perceived end. "Winnie! Winnie! It's.. turn around, don't watch." Indeed, when Coda made a lunge forward, Banks thought he might be trying to go for Winnie and purposefully moved to meet the half demon.

The knock to the floor took his breath, but he tried to shield his face with his arms. Arms that were batted aside like paper. He tried really hard to not scream, telling himself it was for Winnie's sake. At first it was just the sound of fist to face, blood gurgling in his mouth by the time he felt Coda moving to his right hand and arm.

And this is where Banks couldn't help but scream, anyone not insane would have screamed. Maybe some of those who were insane, too. Good news though, the agony only lasted a brief moment before shock settled in. Shock of watching his right hand and forearm dangling in Coda's mouth. Bad news, he was bleeding to death, and quickly.

Key was sort of an expert in telling how long someone had left to live. "Coda. That's good. We don't want him to die just yet. Drag him over to the bars by Winne, would you please? Leave him there, and I'll have someone take you to the labyrinth where your real meal is waiting."

There was blood everywhere. Banks' eyes fluttered and a guttural, gurgling groan left him when he was moved. Blood escaping with a heavy cough, past a mostly unrecognizable face. His eyes were bleeding and swelling fast, but one of them was still able to look around.

Key spoke to Winnie directly when Coda had moved away. "He's dying. Painfully. You could give him a merciful death, Winifred. You're close enough. You can drain the rest of his life force. It'll be like he's just going to sleep."

"F..Fucker." Banks coughed up more blood, but did look toward Winnie then. "It..it's okay, Winnie. It's.. not your fault." Another gurgle of blood he had to spit out to keep talking. "Not your fault."

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

(CONTENT WARNING: ANIMAL DEATH [implied, not shown])

It didn't work. It didn't work. No matter how many times Winnie tried to tell herself that this was not real, that she was not here, that this was not happening, the images would not peel away from her eyes; trembling and throwing herself violently against the bars of her cell, she screamed her throat raw, screamed until Banks's name devolved into nothing more than an agonized, amorphous vocalization.

This is all my fault. My fault. My fault.

She trembled, her body jerking in vicarious pain at every sickening tear and crunch of flesh and bone. Banks, who had reached up to help her grab a box of crackers without being asked; Banks, who had spent his life middling, determined to carve out a path of his own; Banks, who had become a cop to do something good, to make some kind of difference.

He had made a difference, she thought. He had made all the difference in the world. Kindness had become a stranger before she met Banks; he had treated her with a humanity that she hadn't felt even when she wasn't an undead, life-sucking leech. He did not deserve this. He did not deserve to suffer while she watched, pitiful and paralyzed—

(Mars let out a truncated snort as her big brother, Cullen, swatted him on the snout, but it was swift and noncommittal; even she could see that his real ire lay with the neighbor boy who was still spasming with high, manic laughter as he pressed the blood-soaked rag to his hand.

"Would you get the fuck out of here already, you little shit-sucking rat?" Cullen spat as he yanked Mars closer by the spiked leather collar. "And don't let me catch your sorry ass fuckin' around with my dog anymore, y'hear?"

Your dog, Winnie had thought resentfully. He never fed or washed or walked Mars; he never mopped up his urine or plucked ticks from his fur, but he was his dog?)

Her screams overlapped with Banks's; she watched, skull rattling in terror, as the raging beast Coda mercilessly ripped Banks's arm away at the elbow.

(Mars was his dog, and so Cullen would never really get angry with him, right?

"Stupid fuckin' mongrel—"

Winnie felt dizzy as she watched Cullen storming down the yard, crackling like a firework on the fourth night of July; the pain in her ankle had ebbed away in shock, the spurting blood blanketing her leg with an eerily soothing warmth.

"Cullen, what's goin' on?" Wendy's wide, bright eyes peered cluelessly from behind the ratty sliding-screen door.

Cullen's arm lashed out vehemently. "For fuck's sake, Wendy, get inside, get outta the way!"

Winnie could feel her heart beating a steady metronome in her ears. Her eyelids, all at once, felt heavy, sleepy.

"Cullen, what's happened?" Auntie's voice.

"The fuckin' mutt bit Winifred."

"Oh—oh—Cullen, hold—let me—what are you doing with that gun?"

"The fuck you think? The mutt's had it coming for a while yet."

And then her eyes snapped open, and a dizzy nausea began to spurt within her as she listened to the familiar, anxiety-stewing sound of Cullen readying the chamber of his gun. No, no, this wasn't right—he was just supposed to tap Mars on the nose, and then he would scold her, and Auntie would drive her to the clinic downtown, and she would hold her breath during the ride, and then, when the nurse brought her to the back to step on the scale and avoid looking at the feeble, too-small number, she would slip over the note she had carefully scrawled and tucked into the lining of her hand-me-down bra from Mom, and the nurse would read it and understand and tell her that it was okay, that she didn't have to go home, that she was safe now—

But instead, a shot split the air, startling even the cicadas into silence, and the only sound thereafter was the ringing in Winnie's head: Your fault, your fault, your fault.)

She trembled, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, and pressed herself desperately to the bars the moment Coda left Banks to lean weakly up against them.

"No, no, Banks, I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—it's my fault, it's all my fault, you don't deserve this, you don't—"

Hiccuping with violent, frame-rending sobs, Winnie reached out in a feeble attempt to wipe the blood pouring from Banks's mouth and nose, but her leather gloves only smeared it further, and she collapsed against the bars, weeping with violent, loathsome self-reproach. Enough. Enough already. Enough. Why did she always cause pain to those who didn't deserve it? Why could she only sit feebly by while the Cullens, the Keys, the Codas of the world tore mercilessly into the innocents she dragged into her path? Why was she never the one broken and fractured at their feet when she was the one who truly deserved it?

It was true, what Key said. She could put Banks out of his misery, the misery she had consigned him to. That was all she could do for him.

"No," she hiccuped weakly, and then her voice erupted with an aggrieved violence it was unaccustomed to donning: "NO! No, no, it's not fair, it's not right, he didn't do anything to deserve this—I—I should be the one hurting, not him—I—"

Furiously, she gripped the bars of the cell in trembling fists and cast her agonized gaze up at the impassive Key. "Take me instead. I know you can do it. You can... you can do magic. Take me instead. Switch us. I don't care what happens to me. I don't care how much it hurts—! I just want him... to get to live... the life he deserves." Shudders ravaged her entire rickety, rail-thin frame, but her eyes, for once, did not waver. "So please—!"

( Tags: Out Of Words | Rhyme | Britt-21 )​

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Good Guys Finish Last | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Rhyme Britt-21
Location: HQ

Key tilted his head slowly, moving to stand in the opening of the room leading down toward Winnie's cell, where the body of banks was haphazardly pushed against. Key let a moment of reflection fill the space, as if he was just now contemplating what could be done to save dear Banksy.

"You can save him yourself, aren't you a vampire, Winifred?" He lingered, letting those words sink in as if water and Winnie was the sponge. "You have a chance to save him at least. There's always a chance it won't take but... Maybe Banks is a fighter."

A coven member came, ready to lead Coda to his feeding. So Key let those words be savored as he gave instructions. "Coda is to be shown to the minotaur's labyrinth, where his food is already in the maze for him to find. Do not interrupt him, and when he is done, he'll let you know. Show him to his new quarters so he can shower and clean up for a very, very important meeting." The last was said as he looked at Coda directly. "Roje can wait in the cell here until after your meeting."

Oh that's right, Banks. Key thought he heard a hiccup in the man's heartbeat. Whoopsie. "Winnie, you want him to live? Feed him your blood before he dies. Then, we'll see if he comes back. But it better be quick, judging by the look of him, he's minutes away, at best."

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

What? She could save him? No—no, that couldn't be right—she was a vampire, yes, but... there was no way she could turn Banks, was there...? No... she was too weak. Even her Lady, as powerful and radiant as she was, hadn't had the power to turn her into a vampire; only the Master of the estate could do so.

A memory echoed in the back of her mind, then, a conversation she had had with Banks himself not long ago: when she had been telling him about her life, her story, as he had put it, and had recounted the sordid tale of how she became a vampire, he had had a pointed question:

So... was the master the only one who could? Or just the others could but weren't given permission to?

The thought had never occurred to her, not even remotely so, that she might have the ability to turn. Her Lady, maybe—in retrospect, Banks's question had made an uncomfortable sort of sense; if the Master wanted to forbid her from performing an act that stood for control, for authority, well—it wasn't a peon like Winnie's place to question his motives. But the mere possibility that she, herself, might have that power—? It was nearly unthinkable. Never had she encountered a situation in which she might discover the use of such a power. Good girls did as they were told and nothing more.

She was a puppet, a servant, a doll. It was not her place to pull others' strings.

And yet—why would Key be telling her this if it were a moot point from the outset? Was this another taunt, a twisted psychological game? Was the sadistic Key merely offering her a sliver of false hope, only to yank it away at the inevitable realization that, no, of course she didn't have the power to turn anyone; what a fool she would be to entertain the thought even for a moment—

But that sliver glistened nonetheless. When she shuddered, it was with something more awful than fear, more awful even than despair; hope, she had come to learn, was the most destructive force of all. Again and again, it had brought her to greater heights than terror could even dream, and the inevitable collapse thereafter always plunged her into unfathomable depths.

But I have to try, she thought, trembling but resolved. For Banks, I have to try.

Furiously, she wiped at the tears still leaking from her eyes and sniffed fiercely, funneling every bit of feeble determination left within her tiny, pitiful frame. Drawing a hand up to her lips, she squeezed her eyes shut and winced as she drove her fangs deeply into the flesh of her own wrist, a tiny yelp leaping from within her throat at the buzz of pain. With tears stinging her eyes, Winnie slipped her bleeding hand through the bars of the cell, her other hand extended to support the weight of Banks's head, and she tenderly brushed at his hair with the side of her hand.

"Banks," she called out gently, trying to keep her voice steady, soothing for his sake despite the fear gnawing within her. "Banks, can you hear me? Please, I have to try this. I have to do... whatever I can to help you. So please, just... open your mouth. I know it hurts... I promise I'm going to try and make it better..."

And then, with Banks's lips parted, Winnie tilted down her wrist and let her blood flow freely into his mouth, her heart hammering in perhaps futile anticipation. If hope again failed her this time, the fall very well might drag her down beyond the point of return.

( Tags: Out Of Words | Rhyme | Britt-21 )​

winnie sawyer.

psychic vampire

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

A Select Few | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Evelyn Maeteris

The visage of her father continued to morph the wider his mouth opened. It grew and grew, until it nearly swallowed her whole, until it had blocked out everything else around her for a brief moment. But that moment was all it took for her world to change yet again.

Gone was the corporate jungle, leaving her in a real jungle instead, a forest really. Thick with trees taller than she could see, a canopy of leaves that blotted out most of the sun. Evelyn could still see her father, though the man had morphed from anything resembling Aelven into a two headed beast. Each one with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth, chomping at the bit, as if eager to devour her.

Looking down Evelyn would see a finely crafted Aelven sword nearby. Its tip had been driven into the earth, with the hilt all but calling for her to take it, use it. Slay the beast that would so easily obliterate her without a second's hesitation. A hesitation she couldn't afford to take.

Even now, the two headed visage of her father came rushing toward her, each maw open, gaping, growling. It would see her destroyed rather than risk his precious legacy. See her run into the ground. The beast charged, a challenged issued without words, only sounds. Sound of greed, sound of a hunger for more power. And oh, it was so very hungry for power. More power.

So hungry.

coded by natasha.

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Waking | Current Timeline: May 16th ​

Tags: Silver-

Silver and Midnight bit and tore at the brambles, but still the undergrowth seemed to tighten around them. Smaller and smaller until the world went black. Silent, dark, as if life had suddenly been taken from them, but a moment later, given back again.

Sound of a water fountain dribbled into their senses, along with the scent of flowers, and a strange mustiness that came from being inside a cavern. They were both laying down on one side, near each other, but weak, too weak to stand or even lift their muzzle.

What they could see of their surroundings was a strange mixture of natural rock, and an unnatural garden made natural, if that made sense. Someone had taken great care in crafting a garden to look as if created by mother nature herself in a place where no plants should have grown, much less thrived as they were.

The water came from a rock waterfall in the middle of the room, and flowers of various types lined the perimeter of the cavern walls. It radiated a sense of calm and peace, of safety. Which was good, as neither of them were going anywhere soon.

It felt like they had been asleep for a long while, months even. Mouths were dry, and muscles were stiff, resisting any command to move. They could look around with their eyes, noticing a small circle of rocks they appeared to be laying in the middle.

Magic shimmered, a mostly invisible curtain of protection emanated from the rocks upward. Rocks with some type of a symbol or rune carved crudely into it. Apparently, whoever set this up must have believed they would wake before they could return. A small sign had been fastened to a stick just on the inside of the protection ring, with the two of the wolves.

The writing was in a child's scrawl, but still legible. They didn't have any problems reading what it said, even with the misspellings. Even with the smiley face at the end.

"Pleze wate here. U safe if stay here. Hiden from othurs. Be back soon! "

(Created in FlowScape on Steam)​

coded by natasha.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

So many screams, all of them echoing in his skull, all of them blended dizzily together. What were they saying? Why were they screaming at him? What did they want—?

No—no, he understood. The world around him swelled and blurred, seemed to expand and shrink with the movements of his own lungs, as he turned and tried to pick details from the spinning, indistinct blurs that gaped at him in abject horror. Cowards. Cowards, all of them. Where were their derisive remarks now? Where were their taunts, their jeers, their relentless assaults against whatever pitiful vestige of dignity he still brandished? Where was their laughter now?

A half-crazed shudder ran through him as he sank his teeth deeper into the arm still dangling from his mouth. Whose arm? When had he torn off someone's arm—? Oh, what the hell, it didn't matter; what mattered was that he was the one doing the biting, not the bitten.

Go ahead, he thought hatefully. Call me your names now. Laugh at me now. I want to hear it.

Screams and sobs pierced his ears, a tantalizing feast for a soul that had grown weary of being stepped on. And yet he was angry.

What's the matter? Why won't you laugh at me now?

Go ahead. I'm used to it. Go ahead and laugh.

I said I want to hear it.

Distantly, he wondered why none of them were responding to his demands—even now, they had the gall to ignore him?—until he felt Banks's warm, ruined flesh slip from his mouth and squelch onto the floor below and realized he had only been screaming at himself.

The world tipped and careened as he swiveled a disoriented pair of eyes to meet a newcomer, a cloaked figure who approached him; for a moment, he didn't understand: was this his next target? Someone else he was meant to maim beyond recognition? But then the words swimming in the air around his fevered ears clicked, even if only a little: labyrinth. Food. That meant more. More blood. More flesh. More screams.

A mixture of saliva and blood—someone else's blood, blood that didn't burn for once—dripped from his chin as he stalked after the member of the coven, every muscle in his body pulled taut in anticipation. The screams behind him still swirled between his ears, and their echo left a fever within him that simmered hungrily.

You're not a villain, Coda, Winnie had said. What a joke. A creature like him wasn't meant to hear words of sweetness or care. Laughter and screams, it seemed, were all he was made for, and between the two, there was no confusion about which tasted sweeter.

( Tags: Out Of Words | Rhyme | Britt-21 )​

coda.

half-demon

 

[Out Of Words]

A NIGHT BLEEDS
A story by Out Of Words​

Out Of Words

Toss A Coin | Current Timeline: May 16th​

Tags: Vinegar Bees Rhyme Britt-21
Location: HQ

As Coda followed the other coven member, Key turned back to watch Winnie feeding Banks her blood. Banks who was gasping for his last traces of life even as he appeared to swallow the blood. Key watched while reaching for something inside his jacket. Watched as Banks convulsed, and the blood began to flow slower from the stump of his right arm.

One last tear flowed from the corner of Banks' eye, and then he grew still. A rattling sound left his chest, his last exhale, the last trace of life, gone. "Now, it's a waiting game." He tossed a coin at the body, and it landed on the man's chest. "Heads or tails, we'll see if he's strong enough to come back."

Key did a small motion with both his hands, and the room itself closed. The bottom half made of rock that slid out from the edges of the doorway. The top have filled with bars like the cell in the back so they could see in. And warded with magic. Key gave a small smirk to the side as he said, "Banks closed for now." A quick gesture to another cloaked member nearby. "Let me know if something changes. I need to start setting up some mouse traps." And soon, the only sounds would be the ones made by those left behind.

Meanwhile, Coda was led down a corridor that sloped, leading deeper into the mountain itself. He was actually speaking as they walked. "Your food should be well seasoned, they've been in the labyrinth for a couple of hours. Key said you also needed someone who well, really wasn't very good. You should find him pleasing."

They soon reached a rock wall with a carved rune to one side. "This was made by our resident minotaur, this is his home, but he's occupied. Don't destroy the rocks or walls if you can help it. Kinda pisses it off. Otherwise, there's no other entrance or exit aside from this one. When you're done, look for the rune on the floor next to a wall. Stand on it, and I'll know you're ready to leave. Ready?"

Once Coda indicated he was, the coven member placed a hand against the rune and murmured quietly to it. There was a glow, and the rock wall slid back into the wall with a bit of a grinding noise. Soon as he had cleared the doorway after entering, the member said something else, and the rock wall slid back into place, leaving him inside the labyrinth.

Somewhere, someone was crying in sheer terror. Coda could also hear the sounds of a minotaur growling and rumbling low off and on. A soundtrack they were playing for Coda's benefit, to help heighten the man's fear and keep him disoriented. The last one sounded a hell of a lot like one of Coda's growls, or maybe they had another half-demon on their payroll. Imagine that.

(Created in FlowScape on Steam)​

coded by natasha.

 

[AsherMasher]

Clementine Holt​

Clementine’s pride began to dwindle as quickly as the pixies began to assemble. She shakily lifted her shield to protect her, but was overcome with an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Pebbles bounced off her shield as she tried to counter attack with the attack.

Even with Lew’s guidance, Clementine was wary against attacking the little creatures.
Timid balls of light shot out of her hand as she crouched to block any attacks from overhead. Balancing both the attacks and the shield began to take a toll. As Clementine tried to focus on one aspect, the other dimmed. Fatigue plagued her body as the under-practiced Magic’s within her flowed haphazardly in either direction. She cowered under the shield as Clementine tried to catch her breath.

A feeble attempt at creating another attack only added to the growing frustration Clementine felt during the mock battle. The pixies overhead did not falter as the anger built up. After a more stinging rocks pelted her unprotected flank, Clementine’s frustrations exploded in an array of light.

“Enough!” She shouted at the sky as the light in her palm burst upwards towards the pixies. Her mind cleared as she took Lew’s advice and stopped overthinking her unconfident abilities. Seemingly with minimal effort, Clementine dodged a majority of the pebbles and blasted bright rays of light towards her foes. Both the shield and the attack shined brightly in the sunlight. She looked toward Lew with a slight look of regret on her face. “I’m sorry,” she shouted towards her. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper! I don’t want to hurt them!” She ducks under her shield and tries to protect herself the best she can.

 

[Vinegar Bees]

(CONTENT WARNING: GORE)

His limbs felt heavy as he dragged them through the stone-carved walls, as much a maze to him as to whichever wicked, forsaken fool was sharing it with him. Saliva flooded his mouth freely as he lifted his head up, tilted it back, sniffed the air; his senses were sharpening as the hunter within him forced its way through, and the stench of sweat and terror beckoned him like a lighthouse beacon.

The walls were alive with low, thick growls that he struggled to differentiate from those rumbling in his own throat; alive with sinister susurrations he knew, even in a pure id state, belonged to the new, unfamiliar guests that had taken up residence in his head.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

Coda stalked through the maze, lumbering; for a hunter, he did little to mollify the noise of his movements, but what purpose would it serve? The outcome was as inevitable as dusk; there was no escape proffered to the prey. Now or later, Coda would sink his teeth into flesh, and every thunderous step he took only sharpened that reality for his meal, whose screams clambered higher and higher in their futility.

For thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

His vision had constricted to a pinprick, his arm landing heavily on the wall beside him as he dug in his claws and dragged them past. Don't destroy the walls, the cloaked figure had said, but he wasn't destroying them, merely making his mark.

Coda's breath rasped thickly in the drunken, hungry murk, and the screams ricocheting on the walls around him grew sharper and louder until they rattled in his ears, and his tongue ran over swollen, bleeding gums as he found himself facing down his meal.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.

His teeth evacuated his mouth with a sudden, violent expulsion of bloody sputum; in their place, longer, sharper teeth, each a blade in its own right, forced their way through the raw pink flesh of his gums, thick and bulging and filling his mouth to surfeit. The skin lining the muscles of his jaw split in a shriek of exquisite pain, and as his teeth snapped instinctively down in a mouth that could no longer contain them, they lopped off a lump of flesh from his tongue that fell, limp and spurting, to the ground below. No matter, he thought. The soul of the wicked would replenish it.

And so he dug in. With a rattling, feral screech that drowned out any of his victim's feeble final cries for mercy, Coda lurched forward and sank his ravenous teeth into the flimsy human chest that caved in far too easily. Gnashing through the spokes of crushed ribs and sternum, his teeth sought out the warm, still-beating heart and greedily swallowed it whole.

Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

And run over it did. Coda could feel the sticky, rotten sweetness of the wicked human's soul fill him as it slithered down his throat; in the next moment, flesh was sewing itself back together, his tongue reforming as the bones of his stiff, broken left arm found their proper places and reattached.

But it did not stop at merely healing. His human form was inferior by its very nature, and the power that filled him with the soul did not stop until it had desecrated his human form entirely; the juvenile horns that had sprouted from his forehead stabbed further into the air, pulsing and swelling as they grew and curled in sinister spirals. Skin tore and bled as muscles were engorged beyond the body's capacity, his body twisting and shuddering in twin agony and ecstasy as he grew to a monstrosity; at his back, bones lanced through his skin and bent themselves into a pair of skeletal forms suggestive of fetal draconic wings. The bony shapes, he knew, would never carry his weight; in fact, they were useless in all ways except perhaps intimidation. In the end, after all, he was still only half.

Still, this was as close to being a true demon as he could get, a quivering, nightmarish monstrosity. Only when he was freshly fed did he have enough power to maintain this form; indeed, in the immediate aftermath of feeding, power surged so freely through him that he could not reclaim his human appearance even if he wanted to. And so, drunken with sickening pleasure but still unsatisfied—never satisfied—Coda again brought teeth to flesh and began to devour every trace of flesh and bone that remained of his victim. The heart was all he really needed to draw the power of the soul, but why waste such a willing feast?

As the minutes dragged, the snuffling animal noises in his throat grew thinner and smaller the closer his body got to control; by the time the only remaining sign of his meal was a fat bloodstain draped across the ground and his own shuddering skin, Coda had returned to his human size. Slowly, he lifted himself from the feral crouch he had taken up, his knees popping back into place, blood tracing warm streams down his chest. The clothes he had been wearing were more shredded than not, now, destroyed as they had been by his sudden and violent engorgement in size, and he was near-naked, an animal. The bones and flesh he had devoured suddenly found themselves overcrowded in his returned human stomach, and Coda doubled over at the waist, violently and hideously spewing the surfeit onto the rough-hewn stone floor.

A dry, loathsome laughter gurgled in his chest. That look Maria had given him over the mangled corpse of the cat. The terror in Maylee's eyes when she saw what he had done to Adrien and Malik. What sort of look would they give him if they could see him now?

He sustained himself with the agony of the thought as he dragged his stiff, shuddering body to the rune on the floor.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

coda.

half-demon

 

[Silver-]

SILVER BLACKWOOD
Tags: Out Of Words | Location: Garden of Eden​

The brambles appeared to constrict around them further like a massive, spinous snake and coiled until they were thrust into total darkness. It felt like vertigo had washed over her, similar to when the ground had rushed up to greet her just before she’d shifted into a wolf in front of her father. His aghast expression trickled away with the sound of water that echoed in her ears, her chest rising and falling with a deep sigh at the scent of flowers that combated the ever increasing ache that reverberated down to the marrow of her bones. Silver could only tell from instinct that Midnight was close by, unable to lift her head to even check to see if he was awake or breathing as she laid on her good side, eyes panning to take in as much as she could of this place. Lush moss grew in patches on the rocky floor, their bright green cohesive to the vibrant colors that several flowers and large, waxy leaved plants also emitted against the otherwise gray cave. The walls emitted a certain bluish light from which she couldn’t pinpoint the source where she laid. Rocks entrenched them in what seemed to be a circle, the air above them waving with some kind of invisible force--similar to how you could see heat rippling above a hot car on a sunny day. It didn’t feel hot in the little garden, so what exactly could that be?

Amber-gold eyes soon rested on a wooden sign, propped up by a small pile of similar rocks. They would be safe if they stayed here and that whomever wrote those words upon it said they would return. Silver couldn’t help but feel wariness in reading the sign a few more times as if it would give her any leverage as to who or what was containing them here. If they were safe, why is it that they couldn’t move an inch? She growled weakly, exhaustion getting the best of her as she narrowed her eyes to slivers. Once again, they were trapped in another place manifested by unknown beings and all she could hope now was that Midnight had some sort of idea as to whom was pulling the strings.

 

[Maeteris]

Evelyn Harper

This was her end, swallowed by her father--ever a dramatic poet. He must feel it funny to devour the essence that was once his.

She will not go out screaming and kicking.

Chin held up and eyes full with ferocity.

She blinked.

The smell and sights of a forest filled her senses. There was no moment of respite she knew as she took stock of her surroundings, spotting the visage of her father close by--or what seemed to be her father. This… Thing was an abomination.

She stood cautiously, the absence of weight and jingle of her shackles didn’t go unnoticed. A glint in her peripherals forces to gaze the way. There, tip half-buried in the ground was a sword. The abomination was still unmoving. How fast was it? Could it catch up to her and close the distance?

She made a dash for it--heels dug into loose soil, her left foot almost got caught by something but she forced it back into running.Her momentum carried her past the blade, but her hand caught the handle, pulling it free from the dirt, specks and chunks thrown in the air. She twisted around, bringing the blade up in a guard.

It charged.

A monster that ripped through the dirt like a stampeding herd and she was in it’s path.
Shaeel’hasa, Exarch. We meet at an opportune time. I feel the Aelf essence in you and it is strong.

Ignoring the voice, she held her ground, would this creature blindly charge into a pointy end? It wouldn't, surely. A slap or a sideways punch from it would be quite fatal. She rolled away, got back on her feet and cautiously circled the beast. It’s two heads let out a beastial growl, unintelligible.

It certainly was not slow, but perhaps it was less maneuverable than it would’ve liked. Only one way to find out. She closed the gap, light on her feet and cautious for a wild haymaker from nowhere. Evelyn delivered a slash on the creature, followed by a jab then faded back to examine the product of her attacks.

Your flows are languid, Exarch. Fighting mortal swordsmen would do that--poor adversaries they are.

location:???• tags • mood • Outfit • interactions

 

[Vinegar Bees]

The scream that tore at her ears tore at her throat, too, an unanswered plea:

Mama, help me. Please, Mama.

Maylee threw her head back in agony, hands and feet scraping desperately at the straps that still fastened her to the table.

Mama, can't you hear me?

Oh, God, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, and she knew, somehow, that she was going to die, and Mama was going to watch—

Why won't you look at me, Mama?

(She liked to pretend she had been plucked straight from the womb and into a sunny cradle in the corner of Papa and Dad's bedroom. It was a cleaner, prettier story—a fairy tale child, a changeling raised in the home of kind strangers. Rescued from what would have been a chilly, lonely existence, she was free to bask in the gratitude of a clement childhood.

The truth, of course, was that there had been no cradle. By the time she had found herself in the safety of being wanted, she was already old enough to walk and to talk and certainly to remember the damage that had already been etched into the interior of her skull by a formative yearning. The seeds had already been sown: she would grow a pale, fragile heart that knew it was not enough and wondered why; she would grow to reach for heights she could not possibly traverse, even if she stumbled and skinned her knees every time, because even if she was failing, at least she was trying, and maybe Mama would love her a little more if she saw that she was trying—

But she couldn't possibly wear that damage on the outside. What sort of rotten, ungrateful child could look the parents who rescued her in the eye and tell them they were not enough?

And so, whenever Dad or Papa had approached her with cautious, veiled questions, she had caught on quickly, had made pretending her greatest strength. She did not remember a woman called Yan, she told them; hadn't she always lived with them? Wasn't she their daughter?

No, she did not remember a woman called Yan. She did not remember the glittering knives, the assorted bones and organs kept in glass jars, the gauze Mama wrapped around her bloodied limbs when she carried dinner home under her arm.

"This one was a runt," Mama said dispassionately as the meat slavered in the pan. "Abandoned by its pack. It would only have been in the way."

Every meal was a story, a casualty. She learned quickly to hide her tears when Mama described the killing blow.

"I'm telling you this so you'll learn to be the one holding the knife, not the one beneath it."

That first time Papa cooked spaghetti and meatballs, she pretended she could not stomach the taste of meat. Why—? A simple matter of taste. She did not imagine each slab of meat as a pair of glassy, unseeing eyes. Why would she? After all, she did not remember.

She did not remember following Mama into the woods, the handle of an axe heavy between her trembling fingers. She did not remember the feeble, paltry swing she took at the wolf's neck, the cinder of hope that, if she made the creature bleed, maybe Mama would love her. She did not remember the stunning, indescribable pain as claws tore through her dress and cleaved up her back, the dizzy terror as she pleaded for help and saw Mama looking at the creature, not at her.

The next week, she had gone to live with the man who would become Dad and his partner who would become Papa. She had been a runt, after all. Only in the way.)

The shriek that tore from within her was suffused with agony and need and anger, and when heat exploded up and down her limbs, Maylee instinctively twisted and squirmed to get away from it, and the straps binding her to the table snapped abruptly; she was tossed across the floor, teeth gnashing painfully together, and she spread her palms in front of her and saw a hot, red light swimming and pulsing in her veins, lighting up her skin like a belt of stars. Dizzily, Maylee looked around the room that was quaking in chaos and saw the huge man, Sage, cowering by the door, and then the cold, slick Razial at the center of it all, serene and untouched.

Rage bubbled within her, the same feeling that had seized her frame at the sight of Ms. Baker collapsing onto a bed of shattered glass. The strong were privileged to be so, and for them to so gleefully throw their power about, not caring whom they trampled along the way—

"You coward, let him go!" she screeched, rising unsteadily to her feet and pointing a trembling hand violently in Sage's direction. "Whatever you—" A violent wince; she doubled over at the waist as a fresh wave of pain rocked her frame, cutting off her breath in a truncated gasp. "Whatever you've—done to me—leave him out of it—!"

And then, lurching forward, she threw herself at the placid Razial, even if she stumbled and skinned her knees, because even if she was failing, at least she was trying—

She was thrown violently back, her teeth rattling in her skull, and Maylee blinked furiously through the daze of stars that covered her vision before she managed to clamber to her feet again and battered herself against whatever barrier the magician had erected.

Again, she was sent wheeling back, this time with heavy swathes of pain twisting through her; Maylee let out a choked, gurgling gasp, but it was different this time; this time, it hurt, and so perhaps that meant she was making some kind of dent in his defenses—?

And so, a final time, Maylee launched herself spitting and snarling at Razial, the eye in the room's storm, only to be flung to the floor with pain that rent her so violently she was left to do little but twitch and writhe in impotent agony.

Mama, why won't you help me—?

"C... C... Coward," she spat through teeth clenched in hatred, and though her eyes were trained on Razial, her words were for Yan.

( Tags: Out Of Words )​

maylee song.

hunter | werewolf