Dec 25, 2018
The crow! <3 another tee villain!
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The crow! <3 another tee villain!
My poor little baby. She is staying with my parents and I miss her :(
Hannibal! Another tee villain purchase <3
The joker, another tee villain shirt! <3
Scorned (part 1)
(This is a story I have been working on, here is the first part.)
Eyes flutter open gazing through the haze of sleep. The world slowly falls into place. An older man with rough features, stands tall in the doorway of a dimly lit room. His skin tan from the sun, hazel eyes dull from age but they still held light gaze though the dark. His hair is brown as the dying leaves in the autumn months. It hung long but braided down his back. A single strain remains along the left side of his face. Several colorful beads made of bone and glass decorated the strand with twining hawk feathers sprouting from the tip.
The man walks into a small room where a very young girl wakes rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Father?” her voice rings in the silent air.
The man smiles broadly before walking forward to gently push the rich bright red locks from her fair face. “Yes, my dear. I didn’t mean to wake you. I came to tell you the story I promised you.”
A long drawn out yawn tugs tears to the corners of her eyes as her mouth gaps wide. Feeling the tug of sleep she struggles to look up at him with her bright young golden eyes. A warm smile on his face he moves to sit on the edge of the bed slowly laying her back. Gripping the blanket he tugs it up to just under her chin, tucking her in.
“I want to hear the story...please, I’ll stay awake. I promise.” the young girl struggles to get each word out before another yawn escapes her.
The man chuckles deep in his chest, clearly finding this young child amusing.
“Very well. Now, listen closely my dear daughter for this is the story of how our people came to be.” his voice comes down to a hush. His back leans against the wooden headboard gazing down at his daughter as she moves to wiggle up to hug him resting her head against his chest. Slipping his large arm around her he holds her close.
“There was once a time when beasts held power and man feared them. The forest where our home is use to be a dark foreboding place where darkness creeped in every corner causing man to be fearful to every venture in unless it was during the bright hours of day.” He speaks low but strongly.
His hand goes up to run his hand along his daughters head while she gazes up at him waiting for him to continue. The waning moonlight flows through the window giving the room a soft white glow.
“One day a beast of the wood had gone too far out of the forest. A young wolf. Venturing too far, he grew bold in his young age and carless. He didn't notice the iron trap that came up with jagged teeth to claim his paw.” He grips his daughters little hand which causes her to squeal softly.
She squirms as her eyes open more. Gradually she becomes more awake. “What happened next?”
Smiling he leans his head back looking out the window. “Well, the wolf cries in pain. Yowling for help from his fellow creatures of the forest but none came to his aid. They all feared man. It took an entire day for the hunter to find the wolf. He lay bleeding with his paw still in the trap.”
“He didn’t kill the wolf did he?” she asks fearful.
“No, he took one look at the wolf and decided to release him. The wolf did not know why the hunter let him free but he did. The wolf ran back into the forest. With his paw hurt he remains near the edge of the forest. He became drawn to the hunter who didn’t kill him. You could say that his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know the man who has always been feared to the creatures of the forest.”
“Did they become friends?”
A chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Yes, they did. The wolf came to know the hunters home. Often he came to visit him and the hunter would feed him. This went on for some time. The wolf had become more of a guardian of the hunters home more than a wild beast of the wood.”
“...if they became friends is that the end?” she asks, her voice giving away the fact she struggles to remain awake in her father's’ arms.
“Not even close. You see, the hunter had a daughter. She became close friends to the wolf just like her father. Yet, the older she grew, the wolf grew with her. After some time the wolf came to love the girl but being a beast he knew he couldn’t be anything more than a guardian when he wished so badly to be more. But, he got an idea...”
“...What did he do?”
“Well, he knew the lunar mother would come but once every few years to cast gifts upon her children of the wood. He traveled until he found her. The lunar mother is a goddess who lives in the moon who protects and guides all of her children, both man and beast alike but she loved the wolves above all others since they sang to her each night.
The wolf came before the goddess and begged for her to give him a man’s life. He yearned to have what man did, if not forever but for just a taste of something he greatly desired. Seeing the love in her child’s heart she granted him a gift.”
“A gift? What sort of gift? Like my doll I got for my naming day?”
“Not quite, my dear. She granted him the magic to change his shape into what he wanted most. He had the power to turn human or back to a beast when he wished. With this gift he would be able to become the man he had yearned so badly to be.”
“Did he go see his friend...the girl he liked?”
“He did. After a short time he had courted her and married her but every so often he would turn back to his beastly form. You see, the lunar mother is giving but never does her giving nature not have rules. For him to gain the gift he had to promise to never forget who he really was and where he came from.”
“...Did something bad happen if he did?” tilting her head up the girl gazes up with concern in her features.
Nodding the father releases a heavy sigh. “Yes, unfortunately. The more the wolf turned into his human half he would forget more and more who he really was and where he came from. The moment he lost his wild heart forgetting the call of the forest and to sing each night to the lunar mother he became cursed. Being angry and bitter with her child she cast a cruel and lasting spell.”
A sharp gasp hushs against his chest as the girl grips his loose fitting shirt. “...A curse?”
“Yes, a curse. The lunar mother cast a terrible spell on him. No longer knowing who he was he could no longer use his power to turn back into his wolf self. He became stuck in his human form. Never again was he able to return to the forest where he belonged. He became our father. The beast who yearned so badly to be man while the man yearned so badly to become the beast.”
“Our father? You mean he was Scorn?” curiosity reflects in her golden gaze.
“Yes, our father Scorn. The beast cursed to roam the earth as man no longer connected to the home he left behind. When he lost his wild heart he lost a part of himself that could never be replaced. A hole grew in his chest and he became empty. Over the years he became like every other man. His seed was born bearing the markings of the beast he left behind.” The man stifles a yawn as he rubs his tired face.
“...is that why we look different and people don’t like us?” looking down in a shameful manner the girl’s lip curls down into a pitiful pout as if tears were just a breath away.
Anger grips the man as he tenderly moves his daughters hair from her face to gently grip her chin having her look up at him. “...Never be ashamed of the way you look or where you come from. We are strong and our ways are one with the earth. We are not the ones who should be ashamed, my daughter. The men who treat our kind like animals and fear us are the ones who should feel guilty for who they are.”
Tears edge their way to the corners of her eyes as a small sniffle escapes her trembling lip. “...Will the curse of Scorn ever be lifted so that we can be like everyone else?”
Using his thumb he brushes the small tears that trickle down his daughter now rosy cheeks. “...It is said there there will be a child born who will bear the mark of Scorn. This child will bring back the part that is missing in our souls and make us whole again. Then and only then will our people no longer be trapped between two worlds not belonging to either, but...”
Leaning down he places his lips to her forehead giving her a small kiss. “...Shidora, my sweet girl. These are legends. You don’t need to wish for something that you don’t need. You are just like any other little girl out there. It is true you may look different but you are a Feraldia. A child of the forest.”
He gently cups her cheek looking down at her puffy eyes. “...My daughter, always remember where you came from and who you are. If you remember this you will never need to feel fear in your heart. I love you, little one and I will always be here to guide you when you feel lost. So please don’t fret. Now sleep, everything will be better in the morn.”
His voice fades away as darkness swallows up his face though he smiles sweetly just before everything goes black.
Fallen Angel
The pounding of the rain resonates in the small room like an echoing drum that drowns out everything but the thoughts within the mind. Thoughts are just as frightening as any kind of sound that could cause a chill to ripple up the spine causing a ping of fear that grips the breathe in the chest not allowing it to escape.
Forcing out a long breath, lungs fill with fresh air and smoke. The cigarette burns bright in the darkness forming a large tip of ash before it trickles to the floor. Holding in the smothering smoke it soothes the building anxiety. After a few moments a slow breath releases the smoke and tainted air past dry lips where the nearly spent cigarette clings to the bottom lip.
Eyes burn with tenderness as light is suddenly brought forth to view. Grunting in approval, the bright blinding ray is dulled by the maroon lampshade that hangs at an odd angle. A bright beam flows from the top shining over a figure that is motionless against the wall.
A glimpse of pink flesh is exposed showing off a lovely supple form. Reaching out with a rough hand the lampshade is adjusted to shine fully over a young woman. Her arms outstretched above her head bound by pink silk. It hugs her delicate wrists so tightly they are deeply bruised. A large metal hook in the ceiling keeps her form poise with her feet about four inches from the floor.
Her skin is an inhuman pale void of any sign that rich life giving blood ever resided beneath it. Instead a blacken-crimson pool forms a halo at her feet. Small trails of blood flow in a half crescent formation down her body leading up to a smooth wound. Her skin splits open exposing now dark crimson flesh left to the unforgiving air.
Trails of blood flow all down her body. Once a gushing rush reduced now to just a small trickle leaving small droplets of lifeless fluid to drip every few moments. The excitement is only felt at the first cut watching her bright blue eyes widen revealing the horror from deep within along with the realization that soon they will grow dim forever.
Standing slowly heavy footsteps thud over to her. A warm hand caresses her cold cheek pushing her long black hair from her face. Her lips gap slightly a small droplet of blood stains her blue lips. Reaching up with a thumb to smear the sticky droplet along her bottom lip it slowly turns red.
“You shouldn’t have left.” A hard voice vibrates in the air.
Moving his hand away the tall man stood staring at the beauty before him. Lifeless but beyond any beauty he could have ever imagine. Reaching up he begins to smear his fingertips along the sticky trails of blood on her body forming random symbols and markings, enjoying the sensation of smearing her blood along her cold skin.
“…my angel…”
Lightening snaps flickering wickedly in the window, illuminating the room. Thunder booms so loud it causes the walls to rumble. Looking back towards the small window the man pulls the dim cigarette from his lips to drop it to the floor.
Once the ember hits the floor touching the drying pool of blood, a fire flares alive forming a circle around the woman. The fire begins to whip in a circular formation turning a deep cerulean. Stumbling back and losing his footing the man falls back hard onto his back.
The paint on the wall begins to turn black by the time the flames lick up along the silk snipping it. With an unseen force the flames disperse. The man shields his face from the heat that pushes past him. Lowering his hand his eyes widen at what he sees. The young woman now stands, hands free at her sides. Her head hung low. Her once black locks are now an unnatural crimson.
The trials of blood scorch from her pale skin leaving it clean. Lifting her head a pair of glowing blue eyes stare at him. A purple scar replaces the slit on her throat. A sly smile creases her lush red lips. Her canines are pointed and nick her bottom lip ever so tenderly.
Arching her back a pair of black tipped crimson wings fill the wall behind her. Rolling her bare shoulders she takes a single step towards the now stammering man.
“…I suppose I should thank you…for releasing me.” Giggling she radiates with an unholy valor.
Walking up to him she leans down tracing her long nail along his trembling bottom lip. “You should have left when you had the chance.”