Of Demons and Darkness

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Moogle-Girl, Jul 15, 2012.

  1. Thunder and lightning split the night sky, briefly illuminating the small 17th century town and warning of the impending rainstorm that Emelia sincerely hoped wouldn't come. She continued running somewhat frantically around the central room of her spacious home with only a few oil lanterns to give her light, gathering up all manner of bottles and flasks, each filled with some strange mixture or another. A powerful sense of giddiness rose up in her head as it hit her just how close she was to accomplishing her goal.

    As was painfully obvious to anyone who stopped to get a good look at her or what she was doing, Emelia Reragon was no normal woman. She was pale, and had straight, dark hair that reached her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright, piercing red, a color that contrasted sharply against her ensemble of a dark blue dress, especially in the dark, when those eyes seemed to glow with otherworldly energy. Despite the fact that she was only nineteen years old, she'd been living alone for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, as far as everyone knew, she'd simply appeared one day and purchased a house on the edge of town without warning or explanation.

    Lightning flashed again, pouring light through the windows. Emelia worked quickly, drawing lines and circles and writing in some arcane language on the floor, and it wasn't long before they all began to take shape. Soon, she had the radial seal completed, and she began mixing the ingredients she'd gathered in a small bowl. The thick black mixture bubbled and frothed when she placed it in the middle of the seal, the air beginning to crackle with the gathering energy of her dark spell. She gave a high-pitched giggle, more befitting of an airheaded teenage girl than a powerful witch, and stepped back, eyes focused on the middle of the symbol.

    She was thankful that no incantation was required for the summoning. Within minutes, the black liquid in the bowl began to boil over of its own accord, and it spread over the wooden floor, seeping into it along the lines of the seal she'd drawn. The entire thing took on a bright red glow, which spread through the room, filling it with soft light that intensified steadily. There was a bright flash that forced Emelia to shut her eyes to shield them from the light, and then...it was all over.

    When she opened her eyes again, the bowl and the mixture it once held were gone. The seal had been burnt into the floor, a permanent mark of the completed spell. And standing on top of it, was...

    The dark-haired witch cracked a wide grin. Tonight was going to be a fun night.
  2. [​IMG]


    Resting on the attic windowsill of a decrepit house, a thick white candle burned, the flame flashing to and fro in the wind of the oncoming storm. The house was not old by any means, merely in disrepair- if had ever been built correctly to begin with. Inside the house lived a an old woman named Sarah, and her eight-year-old granddaughter Kaetriana. The old woman had been poor enough as it was back when the house was built on the outskirts of town, and the burden of raising a child on her own only managed to stretch what little coin she had to the breaking point.

    Kaetriana's parents had passed away when the first horrible illness struck the town. No doctors had been around at that point of the towns construction. Even if there had been any, they would have been useless fighting against an illness so strong. The majority of children survived, but those who had to work hard, and came home exhausted, were too weak for their bodies to fight against it. Particularly her mother, who barely ate anything herself in making sure that her mother, husband, and daughter got to eat their fill.

    And what a strange daughter it was that her mother so desperately tried to keep alive through the harshest of colony winters. Kaetriana was quiet, rarely saying so much as a word, and astonishingly disobedient, always doing the opposite of what she was told, and usually ending up hurting herself. She spent her time playing with her dolls, playing with invisible friends. Even the priests of the town church were weary of the girl, once going as far as to pull her grandmother aside for a serious discussion on her future.

    The candle tossed again in the wind, then went out.

    In her straw bed, the child stirred uncomfortably, eyes flickering open. She turned her head to the side and saw that her attic bedroom had gone dark, leaving only a faint blue glow from the open window. Letting out a sigh, she slid out of bed and walked to the window, rubbing her eyes as she went. Her rose-blond hair, kept remarkably well cut for a child in such a poor family, fluttered. It was tight with waves, and did not fall back into place so much as stop and begin to coil itself again.

    Holding her nightgown to keep it from fluttering as well, she pushed the candle aside and leaned over the windowsill to see if anything interesting was outside. Seeing nothing, she closed the window and bolted it, the wood creaking and rusty hinges whining in protest.

    Strange. She had the strangest feeling. A feeling like she needed to stay awake. A feeling like she needed to go outside.

    Kaetriana slipped on her leather shoes. They were painfully tight, and she needed new shoes soon, but her grandmother simply could not afford new ones at the time. On her way out of the attic room, she grabbed her grey coat off her bed and slipped it on hastily. Her grandmother was surely asleep by now, and slept heavily. Leaving the house would be no problem.


    Once outside, the child was greeted by the flash of lightning and peal of thunder. She slunk back against her house, grating her teeth at the loud noise still echoing in her ears. Looking around, she still saw nothing of interest. Her mind was determined to tell her differently, though, and she found herself turning towards the forest, away from town. Surely the forest was safe from lightning. It was open areas to be afraid of. Already her eyes were adjusting to the dark, and she was no longer afraid of the storm.

    She pulled her coat tight around herself and headed into the midst of the dense trees.
  3. "Heeeeee hee hee hee hee hee hee heeeee!"

    The mad, high-pitched cackle cut through the night air like an axe through flesh. The faint whoosh of wings accompanied it, signaling the flight of some large creature heading right for the center of town. A few townspeople, having been awoken by the sound of the insane laughter, started to rush out of their homes, various makeshift weapons in their hands. The sharp sound of glass shattering rang out just as another clap of thunder shook the sky. Rain started to fall as the small mob grew in size and ran for the house the noise had come from.

    But when they kicked down the door, it was far too late: all they found was the man's deathly-still body. His neck had been sliced open; the bright white bone of his spine was starkly visible against the rapidly-growing puddle of blood surrounding the torn flesh. His head wasn't completely severed, however, as though the murderer had stopped partway through his actions, and when the townspeople focused, they were able to spot a trail of bloodied prints that led through the house to the back door.

    When they followed the trail, their search proved in vain. The prints faded just outside the house, and the killer was long-gone.


    The creature ran past the outskirts of town, claws patting the grass and dirt without a sound. He was muttering to himself, strange words that no one would have understood had they been around to hear, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper in the night. He ran for the nearby forest on instinct, seeking shelter from the rain that was now pouring down. He found a tree with branches growing particularly close together and took the opportunity to shake the water from his leathery wings as best as he could, though he knew he wouldn't be able to fly very well until the storm passed.

    His ears perked up, however, when he heard footsteps crunching the leaves and twigs littering the forest floor. There was someone here with him? He snickered a bit to himself as the girl passed him, his dark color providing worthy camouflage in the shadows. What a stroke of luck...

    Flying into the branches would be too noisy. He simply scaled the trunk, claws digging into the bark, and perched himself on a branch hanging over the girl's head. Despite his attempt at secrecy, though, the rustling of leaves was sure to grab her attention, so he decided to make himself known.

    Dull red eyes watched Kaetriana from the midst of a tree to her left. "Helloooo there," said the creature hanging over her, grinning widely and bearing rows of short, but razor-sharp teeth.
  4. Broken twigs, dry leaves snapped underfoot of the young girl as she picked her way through the trees, headed toward something that she herself wasn't sure of. Hugging herself for heat, she walked very carefully. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to disguise her, for she was truly loud. Any nearby animal could hear her, and that was likely why they were all gone, leaving merely a silence occasionally interuppted by the noise of a child crashing through the underbrush.

    Thunder continued to rumble far overhead, but the tops of the trees, tangled and thick, blocked out the sky from view and left her feeling sort of comforted, as though this was a home to her.

    Then, there was sound. Scraping, like the way her cat sounded while climbing a tree, only louder, and more forceful. The give of a branch to her left. Wild cat. Kaetriana spun on her heels to face the sound, not quickly, but calmly, knowing not to run or make a lot of noise in the presence of hostile wildlife. The blue-black haze of night made it impossible to tell the form of what was in the tree, leaning over her, only that it was larger than a wildcat. All she could see were dull red eyes, too close. Her sense of comfort vanished, replaced by a tingle of fear in her stomach.

    "Helloooo there," the figure said. Wildlife did not speak. Or at least, she thought it didn't. It sounded practically human.

    Heart fluttering, wishing she had brought a lantern, Kaetriana forced a: "Hello" from her mouth, followed briefly by "Who is this?" A storm was coming. Most people were smart enough to stay inside at a time like this, except for witches who were known to dance in the forest at this time...and her.
  5. "Hee..."

    With a soft thump, the creature jumped from his hiding place in the shadows of the branches and briefly spread his bat-like wings to soften his landing. He looked up at the girl he'd found and tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy, still wearing a wide and rather unsettling grin. He was relatively small, about the size of a common house cat, though it was clear that he was no earthly being. He looked almost like a cross between a bat and a raven, with the body, legs, and wings of a vampire bat, but with shimmering black feathers in place of fur. He had a large beak shaped like that of an eagle at the front of his dark plumage-covered head, complete with the predatory hook at the end. His dark grin revealed rows of short teeth that looked perfect for tearing into flesh. His back feet were tipped with short talons, while his front feet had sharp claws.

    "If all goes well," the avian creature said to Kaetriana, "I will be your sssavior...hee hee hee." His voice was high-pitched and just a bit raspy. It also had a strange accent to it; he hissed every "s" and emphasized every "e," dragging them out. Wings folded tightly against his feathered body, he began to walk towards her, slowly pushing her back against a particularly thick tree behind her. "Don't worry," he continued. "I'll make sssssure you feel every moment..."

    His eyes fell to her ankles, and his body tensed, shifting backwards the slightest bit as he prepared to pounce.
  6. Whatever that was, it wasn't as big as it had made itself out to be. No, it was smaller, but it was just as menacing, if not more, all teeth and claws and feathers... something so all together strange she could barely comprehend what was before her. And it spoke. It spoke remarkably fluently for an animal, though its words were stretched by a grisly hiss. It was eyeing her- it did not sound like a pleasant creature. It sounded hostile. Those words were a threat. Perhaps this was what the priests called a demon...something from hell, filled with nothing but malcontent. If that was the case, fighting would do her no good. Maybe she could speak to it instead.

    The child dropped to a crouch. She put her hands on her knees to steady herself, her back resting against the tree. As it had been staring at her ankles, it was now closer to being eye to eye with her.

    "Well, aren't you an interesting creature," she remarked, honestly curious and trying her hardest to ignore the fear in her stomach. "Now why would you want to hurt me? I mean you no harm. If you are a demon, then surely you have no business with a girl who holds only hatred for the church." Kaetriana's voice was calm and collected. Despite what others said about her, her grandmother taught her well, and she was very intelligent for her age. As she mentioned the church, her fingers tightened, nails pulling at the fabric of her long nightgown while a flush entered her cheeks. She hated that word...church.
  7. The creature took pause when she let herself drop before him. His muscles relaxed visibly, and he simply gazed up at her with curiosity lacing the murderous intent in his eyes. He was so used to his victims screaming and running for their lives. He loved the chase. It was the best time to attack their legs, perhaps even breaking their ankles, leaving them forced to drag themselves across the ground in a desperate attempt to escape. He loved the effect that created, how they left two steadily brightening columns of blood in the dirt and grass. It was so beautiful...but this girl, she was different. There was something odd about her. Especially when she began to speak to him.

    He could still detect the fear in her voice. That subtle tremble that always lingered in a person's voice was easy to notice when you'd gone your whole life triggering it, learning to notice when it first appeared. She was trying to hide it, though, that much was all too obvious. She was a courageous girl. She would be fun to bring down, he thought.

    And just like that, the shaking in her tone was gone. She sounded...oddly calm. Was she not afraid? How could she not be? He was a hellish being, summoned only to kill indiscriminately. He almost took offense at her brazen defiance of his threat. He would have to fix her attitude. She would be screaming for mercy soon enough.

    The creature started to shift his weight slightly from side to side, evidence of his slight unease and anxiousness. "Hee hee," he chuckled. "Yes, I am interesting...and I may have demon blood, but I am nothing but an outcast, you see. In light of my...osssstracism..." he said, hissing the word with a great deal of contempt, "I have been summoned to kill. Alliance to the church means nothing. I shall start with your toes, little girl, plucking them right off from your adorable feet and dragging you through the forest as your pleas fall on deaf ears. I'll make sure to let you bleeeeeed...heeeeee hee hee hee hee..."
  8. The girl's response was delayed, it took her a moment to register that the creature was persistent in threatening her. When it did hit her, however, it did not hit her with fear. Strained and disgusted, her expression was that of someone who had been offended. Words found their way to her mouth from her stomach, bold. Daring. If it was going to play a game with her, she would play a game with it.

    "I see. I understand what it feels like, to be cast out. But your case is something different. Perhaps your demon relatives thought you were foolish, perhaps they are justified. Why would you harm someone who could, in fact, help you? That's the errand of a mindless beast, not an intelligent one like you. If that's how you're going to act, you're no better than an average rabid hound. I suppose you killed the witch who summoned you as well, because you are so mindless that you owe her no gratitude?" This last bit was only guessed at, in her line of thinking, only a witch would be responsible for this. Regardless, the child's superior intelligence and gratingly pigheaded nature was showing.

    She now sat down on the ground with a plop, revealing little of her fear. Crossed her legs. "Well, whether you will show me courtesy or not is your choice, but at least I will do you that honor." In her lap, her hands clasped together and she studied the creature seriously. "If you're truly going to hurt me, now is the best time to do it. I will warn you, though, I will not scream or make a fuss like you'd like me to. This world means nothing to me. I would rather die and find myself in a new world than continue on this course of life. Whether you kill others or not means nothing to me, and if you kill me, it would be more like a gift than anything."

    Kaetriana was quite longwinded this night...she felt the tug of destiny in the air, and she felt like this was her chance to make some use of this world and her life.
  9. "Oh no, the witch that serves as my current master is still very much alive," the avian beast said, a small smirk playing on his beak, "but she will not remain this way. Once my job is done, I will destroy her as well. She will be my final victim. Her life is the payment for my arrival, you see, whether she is aware of this or not...hee hee hee." He continued to sway slightly from side to side, now out of excess energy and desire to run and fly and kill--

    He paused when she sat down. His swaying stopped, and his smirk fell as he listened to her. She really wasn't afraid...there was a sense of finality in her voice. She was serious, he could tell. She wanted to die? He had to admit, he'd never encountered such a thing. Most people either fought back uselessly or, more commonly, ran for their lives out of sheer panic, tearing through the landscape as he closed in, jaws aching to snap, forcing his teeth through their bones. Oh, how he loved the sound of breaking bones, that delightful little crunch when he bit down with the force of an animal ten times his size.

    He realized his train of thought had trailed off into murder (which was normal when he went this long without attacking a victim he'd already chosen) and brought himself back to reality. She wanted him to kill her, he said to himself. She would be happy if he did his job. Did that make murder the right thing to do in this case? Normally, he didn't care about such petty issues of morality, but now...it was strange, doing anything that even resembled a good deed. But...she wouldn't scream? Not even run? She'd just take it and accept her fate...that was no fun. He found himself feeling conflicted. It would be nice to kill someone who actually desired it for once, but it would be no fun at all if she didn't resist.

    "You...wouldn't mind," he tried, "if I skinned you alive? I do so love to use the skin. Sometimes I fashion elaborate outfits for myself, you see. Perhaps I could use your teeth to adorn the collar and sleeves. I'd make sure they were coated in a healthy layer of blood, of course, and for that, I would have to take them right from your jaws before I killed you..." His thoughts devolved into senseless violence and his special brand of mad artistry again. He was having trouble focusing. He needed to kill something now. He began shifting his weight again.
  10. Shaking her head as he ranted over killing his "master" once his job was done, Kaetriana could only sigh in disbelief. "Such a pity you would kill her," she commented, pinky finger in her mouth as her elbow rested on her knee. "I wonder if you realize how lonely it will get once you've killed everyone, once you have no-one left to kill but yourself..."

    Doubtless, his mannerism was among the most intriguing she had ever seen, so fascinating that she wished he would tell her all about himself and his plans right then. She eyed him swaying back and forth, a very obvious sign of impatience, or excitement, and smirked as if she thought the beast silly. A part of her was afraid to keep pushing it, afraid to die, but that same part of her would rather die at the hands of something interesting like this beast than at the hands of humans or nature.

    He went on a rant about yet another horrible way to kill her and she shrugged, trying to keep his gaze as he shifted weight from side to side. "That would be no worse than any other death, torture or not, at the end of it all I would be dead. And once I am dead it wouldn't matter anymore, would it? If you're going to kill me, there's no point in screaming and crying and making a fuss. The death is inevitable. I really don't think you get as much exhilaration from kills as you seem, or you would have knocked me down the moment you saw me. The only thing you get exhilaration from is the terror of your victims. I wonder if you would still enjoy yourself if I proved to be different than the average kill, or if all this time you've been making excuses to yourself to justify your little hobby?"

    Her comments bordered on bluffing, but whether it was bluffing or not her voice was serious, and she meant every word.
  11. He tilted his head away and to the side a bit, glaring at her with one eye, now frowning slightly. He wasn't sure what to think about this girl. Not only was she not scared, and not only was she practically daring him to kill her, but she was even taking the time to psychoanalyze him a bit. It was greatly frustrating, running into such an unusual obstacle so early in the hunt of the night, and yet...he was almost intrigued. Just what was it about this little girl that left her mind so dulled to his special brand of terror?

    In little more than a moment, he decided he wanted to learn more about her. He didn't want to hurt his pride by giving in to her little dare, especially not when the kill would give him any satisfaction. There were plenty more people in this town, all filled to the brim with bright, candy red blood, ripe for the spilling. Though his swaying continued (albeit less noticeably), his frown upturned into the same toothy smirk he had flashed her when he first saw her walking through the forest.

    "You're right," he began, "I wouldn't enjoy myself if you acted like such an awful bore. Peeerhapsss...you might be of more...ussse to me than the average pitcher of paint." The little creature looked around, as though making sure no one had followed him, and turned back to Kaetriana. "My name is Yer'on. Do you have a name as well, my lovely young friend?"
  12. "My name doesn't matter to anyone. It's a stupid name." She adjusted herself on the ground, neither showing comfort nor relief in the development where he decided to agree with her, nor showing question or fear...remaining her passive self. Very slightly, she smiled at him. "My name is Kaetriana, which isn't as interesting as Yer'on. I'd rather learn about you than talk about me. Maybe you can show me what you enjoy doing the most," she said, knowing well what that meant. Her big eyes shined not with tears but serious curiosity of a dangerous sort. "Please show me."

    Tiny hands balled into fists, and a tiny mouth pulled itself into a frown. This was the most unease she'd shown so far. "Please show me," she repeated. "I want to see them die so badly." She reached out her hand to touch him, but it balled back up into a fist and pulled back, once her moderation told her that touching him would be very rude and result in missing fingers. Maybe if she asked. "May I touch you?"

    The girl had found a new, fascinating friend, that presented so much strange and unusual that she could learn about. She wanted to know everything about him, every bit of information her five senses would provide.
  13. Yer'on's grin widened as he noticed her visible anger. 'Them,' hm? So there was someone specific she wanted him to kill? He was more than happy to assist her in that endeavor; not only would he finally get to kill someone and tear them apart into a hundred pieces as he pleased, but he'd be helping this girl in a way that didn't involve senselessly murdering her without getting any fun out of it. Murder for the sake of helping another (besides his master, anyway) was a new concept to him, he had to admit, but it was one he was starting to warm up to.

    The avian demon eyed her hand carefully as she reached out, his grin still firmly in place. He wasn't actually planning on biting her fingers off, but he certainly wanted to give her a good scare, maybe lash out without actually closing his jaws around her flesh (yet), just to make sure she knew who was in charge, who was the stronger of the two. He didn't plan on having two masters. He already disliked being under the control of one, after all. That Emelia girl...Kaetriana certainly wouldn't be talking him out of killing his current master any time soon.

    His prepared threat didn't matter, though, when she reached back and asked for permission instead. That worked just as well, Yer'on thought to himself. She was aware of the threat he presented, it seemed. "You may," he said, walking a step or two closer to her.