like ink, like blood (Jack || Day 4)
Nov 6, 2015 1:52:13 GMT -5
Post by arx on Nov 6, 2015 1:52:13 GMT -5
Jequirity Eckhart
feelin' it, i'm feeling a change
Can you hear it?
Your heart beat, steady—steadier than it has ever been. Thump...thump...thump... The keen of a banshee, the AWHOoOoOOOoOoOoo of a lone werewolf—the dark soul of every creature here moves in time with the beat of your heart. You are the percussion, the driving force behind every dark melody that echoes through this place. You thought you lost your song the moment your arm rolled across the ground, but oh how wrong you were. Every note you have ever played, every song you have ever mastered, every chord, harmony, melody—they are nothing compared to what's in store for you. Thump...thump...thump...
Can you feel it?
It's black, darkness. It's like a stain you can't remove; it grows darker and more noticeable with each passing second. You can try to cover it up, you can attempt to wash it out, but like thick, dark ink it will never come free. It will only grow. Spreading across your heart, the long dark claws of destruction will blot out every imperfection—benevolence, sympathy, patience, kindness, honesty, righteousness, graciousness—and replace them with better things. Qualities that had been hiding beneath all those impurities will rise to the surface, until the only stain anyone sees is the smattering of blood against your dark heart. But no longer will you cringe. No longer will your adversaries laugh as you weep, cry, moan in agony. Because now you are the monster that they fear.
Why do you fight it?
The transition has already begun. In fact, it began the day you were born. Alone, screeching, cold—a lowly orphan, you were destined to embrace darkness, anger, rage. Your family tried to teach you to cover up that innate pull of darkness, but you know they failed. You drowned yourself in drugs and alcohol just to try to escape the weakness they threw on you. The darkness rose to the surface for the few years you yelled, screamed, and ran from the people who took you in. In those days you were powerful. In those days you were a demon.
And now that demon is back.
The small girl from 8 you called a friend fell first and instead of wishing for her back, you wished to drive your blade slowly through the neck of the guilty party. (Go ahead and kill her. Wake her so that you can see the whites of her eyes as you lean against the hilt of your sword, driving the blade straight through her trachea. Smile as she coughs blood, laugh as her eyes beg for mercy. Kill her.) You may have wept over the body of the dead girl from nine, her soft blue eyes may taunt you in your sleep, but underneath all those useless emotions is a rage that will help you kill the boy who took her life. A Fox he may be, but a demon you are. You can kill him. You can kill him and not feel a single thing.
You attacked first today.
And you enjoyed it.
You call it vengeance, but it's obvious you are lying to yourself in a futile attempt to preserve what is left of the old you. You're trying to justify an unjustifiable act; killing makes you a killer, sweet girl Everything you ever thought you were or could be was a lie. You are a demon now, the spawn of the night and dark souls. Deny it for as long as you want. Just know that the moment you give in will be the moment you have won. Welcome your demons home, girl. They will deliver you safely back to District 6 before you know it.
LET ME IN!
I jolt awake, freeing myself from Saxton's embrace and gasping for air. Remnants of the nightmare linger in my mind; Leo's arm drags me into the ground, Hannah's eyes pierce into my skull, Rodrick pins me to the ground and chops each of my limbs from my body. (LET ME IN!) The screech of a creature nearby jolts me into the present. The moonlight baths Saxton in white light, our skin glowing as if we were deities. Sadly we are anything but, otherwise we wouldn't be here in the first place. I glance at the edge of the cliffs, letting my heart settle as the soft glow of candle light still flickers against the black sky.
Leo's memorial—nothing more than a rigor mortified arm stuck into the ground made to hold a turnip and a candle in the air—is my piss poor attempt at an apology. It wouldn't have been necessary if I had simply killed Rodrick. But I hadn't been strong enough or quick enough to defeat the boy from 10. This time. But I would find him; I would kill the boy who took everything from me. (LET ME IN!) But before I end his life, I will make sure I have taken everything precious to him and crushed into dust.
For Leo. For Odile. For Hannah. For Paige. For home, home, home I will kill them all. I settle myself back in next to Saxton, laying my head gently on her chest. Her steady heartbeat lulls me slowly back into sleep, my eyelids closing around the flame that dances in Leo's hand.
...
Let me help you kill them all. Let me in.
Your heart beat, steady—steadier than it has ever been. Thump...thump...thump... The keen of a banshee, the AWHOoOoOOOoOoOoo of a lone werewolf—the dark soul of every creature here moves in time with the beat of your heart. You are the percussion, the driving force behind every dark melody that echoes through this place. You thought you lost your song the moment your arm rolled across the ground, but oh how wrong you were. Every note you have ever played, every song you have ever mastered, every chord, harmony, melody—they are nothing compared to what's in store for you. Thump...thump...thump...
Can you feel it?
It's black, darkness. It's like a stain you can't remove; it grows darker and more noticeable with each passing second. You can try to cover it up, you can attempt to wash it out, but like thick, dark ink it will never come free. It will only grow. Spreading across your heart, the long dark claws of destruction will blot out every imperfection—benevolence, sympathy, patience, kindness, honesty, righteousness, graciousness—and replace them with better things. Qualities that had been hiding beneath all those impurities will rise to the surface, until the only stain anyone sees is the smattering of blood against your dark heart. But no longer will you cringe. No longer will your adversaries laugh as you weep, cry, moan in agony. Because now you are the monster that they fear.
Why do you fight it?
The transition has already begun. In fact, it began the day you were born. Alone, screeching, cold—a lowly orphan, you were destined to embrace darkness, anger, rage. Your family tried to teach you to cover up that innate pull of darkness, but you know they failed. You drowned yourself in drugs and alcohol just to try to escape the weakness they threw on you. The darkness rose to the surface for the few years you yelled, screamed, and ran from the people who took you in. In those days you were powerful. In those days you were a demon.
And now that demon is back.
The small girl from 8 you called a friend fell first and instead of wishing for her back, you wished to drive your blade slowly through the neck of the guilty party. (Go ahead and kill her. Wake her so that you can see the whites of her eyes as you lean against the hilt of your sword, driving the blade straight through her trachea. Smile as she coughs blood, laugh as her eyes beg for mercy. Kill her.) You may have wept over the body of the dead girl from nine, her soft blue eyes may taunt you in your sleep, but underneath all those useless emotions is a rage that will help you kill the boy who took her life. A Fox he may be, but a demon you are. You can kill him. You can kill him and not feel a single thing.
You attacked first today.
And you enjoyed it.
You call it vengeance, but it's obvious you are lying to yourself in a futile attempt to preserve what is left of the old you. You're trying to justify an unjustifiable act; killing makes you a killer, sweet girl Everything you ever thought you were or could be was a lie. You are a demon now, the spawn of the night and dark souls. Deny it for as long as you want. Just know that the moment you give in will be the moment you have won. Welcome your demons home, girl. They will deliver you safely back to District 6 before you know it.
LET ME IN!
I jolt awake, freeing myself from Saxton's embrace and gasping for air. Remnants of the nightmare linger in my mind; Leo's arm drags me into the ground, Hannah's eyes pierce into my skull, Rodrick pins me to the ground and chops each of my limbs from my body. (LET ME IN!) The screech of a creature nearby jolts me into the present. The moonlight baths Saxton in white light, our skin glowing as if we were deities. Sadly we are anything but, otherwise we wouldn't be here in the first place. I glance at the edge of the cliffs, letting my heart settle as the soft glow of candle light still flickers against the black sky.
Leo's memorial—nothing more than a rigor mortified arm stuck into the ground made to hold a turnip and a candle in the air—is my piss poor attempt at an apology. It wouldn't have been necessary if I had simply killed Rodrick. But I hadn't been strong enough or quick enough to defeat the boy from 10. This time. But I would find him; I would kill the boy who took everything from me. (LET ME IN!) But before I end his life, I will make sure I have taken everything precious to him and crushed into dust.
For Leo. For Odile. For Hannah. For Paige. For home, home, home I will kill them all. I settle myself back in next to Saxton, laying my head gently on her chest. Her steady heartbeat lulls me slowly back into sleep, my eyelids closing around the flame that dances in Leo's hand.
...
Let me help you kill them all. Let me in.
i'm feelin' it, in the air
