eternal darkness.

Oh blind, oh ignorant, self-seeking cupidity which spurs as so in the short mortal life and steeps as through all eternity.  

[purgatoriurn]

                        ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE                                    Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy. 

A Bungo Stray Dogs OC written by Ghostie.

[purgatoriurn]

starter for @teslathotep​

It is by mere presence alone that attention is demanded, the strength of which draws the eyes of those that pass the tall figure walking through busy streets; and while they peer in wonder (or is it fear?), the stranger’s own gaze remains hidden, hat tipped down to shadow the face. Despite not having been in this area before, their steps are sure, the path seemingly creating itself to be followed, and it is soon that the crowds clear to smaller clusters of people, then one or two passerby's, and finally, they walk alone. There’s relief in no longer being surrounded by people, no longer having to shield their eyes, no longer fearing that they will look and be surrounded by the thing they must destroy.

It is a short-lived solitude, although the way that faith guided them towards this way has already hinted that someone or something should be expected at the end of the path. Sure enough, a shadow crosses ground before them, and when it does not move, the stranger knows that this is what has drawn them here.

The gaze is raised and it is then that the anonymity of the stranger melts away. Strong features are striking, yet the femininity of them still stand out through high cheekbones and plump lips; the woman stares evenly, unsurprising at the person-- no, at the creature that stands before her. Familiarity with that which she hates to cross raises many questions, and yet she only speaks one.

“Here I thought that you would have finally returned from whatever home you came from.” The voice is strong, unwavering in the face of what she knows to be not human while her face remains a void, “Yet still you decide to stick around to play in that which is not yours. How long has it been now?”  Perhaps it was fate that twisted together the ties that dragged them closer to one another, though Dante believed that one day such string could be cut.

[sictransitgloriamvndi]

City of Dis (1906 / Oil on canvas) - Mirko Rački

[purgatoriurn]

tag drop.