Mar 19, 2017
Terrible sketch of a dark Maria
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Terrible sketch of a dark Maria
Dark!Maria, a Mouri spirit taking form of Maria Velarde and possessing her.
"Not so smart of you to come all the way here alone."
Turn Me to the Death Wish | Self-Para | Dark!Maria
The aftermath of the combat with one of them. The monsters. The unseen horror, shadows in the dark. Maria was in the cave, watching Evelyn Cox sleeping peacefully by her side. She couldn't stand the look of the claustrophobic cave, or the view on the artificial motes, or the campfire which burned her eyes to watch.
The warmth of the cave was an agony, sleep was a luxury she no longer possessed and needed. Jumping up on her feet, Maria Velarde emerged from the cave, looking wildly around herself. When a gasp of bewilderment and utter shock left her lips, she fell on her knees, grabbing her head, pulling her hair in silent pain. It seemed as if her vision was more clear, her senses more sharpened. She could almost hear Evelyn's steady breath. She could feel silent, eerie movements around herself.
She felt them. The creatures whose claw-mark left her in agony and torment. Lowering her bloodshot eyes down to the scar, she noticed how it was burning, red marks and dried blood making it look more severe than it was. The flesh around was hot like fire and tender to touch and, with a silent growl, Maria tore a piece of her shirt to bind the wound.
She could feel them. She could feel their decaying breaths on her neck but turning around she saw no one. She could hear their whispers full of alluring secrets and darkness, penetrating her mind and wrapping around her scull, clouding her reason and her mortal senses. She felt like she was becoming one of them, becoming the Mouri. She couldn't control small, animal growls which left her parted lips, she couldn't tear away her hands which dug into the soil like claws of a lion dug into its prey. She couldn't control the crazed and sadistic look which glowed in her eyes.
And then it stopped.
She looked down to her hands, shocked and terrified by the change. Maria could still hear the whispers, this time further away, until they were just a murmur in her scull. Rolling her neck, she felt more like herself and she got up, a chill running down her spine. Getting back to the cave and watching the sun rise on the horizon, she felt more like Maria Mara Velarde, not The Mouri Velarde.
Her senses remained intact -- if we are to neglect the ever present murmur in her head -- until night. Then it began. She opened her eyes, with same symptoms like the previous night. Rage, sadism and thirst for kill. Getting out of the cave, Maria struggled to be herself, but then the voices turned louder and she snapped into darkness.
With no control over herself, Maria let out a sadistic smile and titled her head in an eerie and almost dead way. Observing her palm, which was stiffed in a claw-like manner, she let loud a crazed laughter.
"The night is young and the prey is in number. How about you and I have a little hunt?" She whispered into the darkness.
The Darkness greeted the words with laughter and growling sounds.
Maria joined them.