What Lurks in the Shadows?
Professor
06-29-2024, 12:40 PM
Setekh's eyes, molten and unblinking, fixed on the small slender figure weaving through the twilight shadows of the Polar Sound. Her pale green eyes, so reminiscent of her mother's, darted nervously from side to side. Setekh moved silently through the short dead bushes and snowbanks, his ivory form melding seamlessly with the winter landscape.
He had been watching her, her mother, for weeks, memorizing her routines, the places she visited, the people she spoke with. Every detail was etched into his mind with an intensity that bordered on mania. How dare Absinth, his treacherous daughter, keep her children from him? The thought gnawed at him like a ravenous beast, fueling the cold fire of his rage. He had been watching her for hours, unseen and unnoticed, just beyond the border. His albino raven however, was not currying much favor with Absinth’s midnight ones. The rustle of his movements was masked by the whispering breeze and the occasional drip of melting snow from the trees and cliffs. He watched as she whipped around, her fur bristling, her voice cutting through the biting winter air.
Her voice, filled with fear and uncertainty, only served to heighten his sense of satisfaction. She was lost, both physically and metaphorically, wandering in a landscape that held no familiarity, no comfort. Too far from home.
As he watched the girl, he marveled at how little she knew of the darkness that lingered just beyond her sight. Setekh had always been meticulous, ensuring that his presence remained undetected, his intentions cloaked in shadows. He had bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to reclaim what was rightfully his. But if he could not have Absinth…
She pressed on, her paws crunching softly against the frosty grass. Setekh's lips curled into a thin smile. She was driven by the hope of finding something familiar, something safe, yet the darkness of the late winter night had erased any such possibilities. Especially for a child so young. Every step she took led her deeper into the unknown, where he controlled the narrative, the very air she breathed. This granddaughter of his, with her bloodfire coat.
The girl moved on, and he followed, silent as a wraith. Memories of Absinth flashed through his mind – her beauty, her betrayal. She had dared to defy him, to run from him, to curse him, and now to take away his legacy. But now, her daughter was within his reach, a living breathing extension of Absinth herself. The girl called out again, her voice hoarse with desperation, ‘Hello!?’ The echo mocked her, bouncing off the cliffs, returning her call with a hollow emptiness. Setekh's heart quickened, not with fear or trepidation, but with the thrill of the hunt. He reveled in her unease, the way her ears twitched at every sound, the way her heartbeat must have been thunderous; if only he were close enough to hear it. To feel it.
Setekh's mind churned with plans and possibilities. He envisioned the day when his granddaughter would look up at him with those same wide, innocent eyes, finally understanding who he was. She would see the strength and power that she could obtain, the same power that Absinth had foolishly rejected.
He took a deep breath, savoring the moment. Soon, he would make his move, revealing himself not as a monster, but as a savior. The landscape, with its vast expanse of unbroken shadows, was his canvas, and she, his unwitting subject. He had spent years honing his skills, perfecting the art of observation, of control. Absinth had tried to protect her children, to hide them away from him, but blood called to blood, and here was the living proof.
As he watched her, a twisted sense of satisfaction settled over him. Absinth had underestimated him, but her daughter would not. She would come to understand the depth of his love, the lengths he would go to protect his blood and their bond. And when the time came, she would stand by his side, a willing participant in the grand design he had so meticulously crafted. The girl was close now, so close he could almost feel her fear, taste her anxiety.
As she continued her cautious journey through the darkness, Setekh moved with her, a silent stalker. He would bide his time, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself, to claim his place in her life.
wc; 734
He had been watching her, her mother, for weeks, memorizing her routines, the places she visited, the people she spoke with. Every detail was etched into his mind with an intensity that bordered on mania. How dare Absinth, his treacherous daughter, keep her children from him? The thought gnawed at him like a ravenous beast, fueling the cold fire of his rage. He had been watching her for hours, unseen and unnoticed, just beyond the border. His albino raven however, was not currying much favor with Absinth’s midnight ones. The rustle of his movements was masked by the whispering breeze and the occasional drip of melting snow from the trees and cliffs. He watched as she whipped around, her fur bristling, her voice cutting through the biting winter air.
Her voice, filled with fear and uncertainty, only served to heighten his sense of satisfaction. She was lost, both physically and metaphorically, wandering in a landscape that held no familiarity, no comfort. Too far from home.
As he watched the girl, he marveled at how little she knew of the darkness that lingered just beyond her sight. Setekh had always been meticulous, ensuring that his presence remained undetected, his intentions cloaked in shadows. He had bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to reclaim what was rightfully his. But if he could not have Absinth…
She pressed on, her paws crunching softly against the frosty grass. Setekh's lips curled into a thin smile. She was driven by the hope of finding something familiar, something safe, yet the darkness of the late winter night had erased any such possibilities. Especially for a child so young. Every step she took led her deeper into the unknown, where he controlled the narrative, the very air she breathed. This granddaughter of his, with her bloodfire coat.
The girl moved on, and he followed, silent as a wraith. Memories of Absinth flashed through his mind – her beauty, her betrayal. She had dared to defy him, to run from him, to curse him, and now to take away his legacy. But now, her daughter was within his reach, a living breathing extension of Absinth herself. The girl called out again, her voice hoarse with desperation, ‘Hello!?’ The echo mocked her, bouncing off the cliffs, returning her call with a hollow emptiness. Setekh's heart quickened, not with fear or trepidation, but with the thrill of the hunt. He reveled in her unease, the way her ears twitched at every sound, the way her heartbeat must have been thunderous; if only he were close enough to hear it. To feel it.
Setekh's mind churned with plans and possibilities. He envisioned the day when his granddaughter would look up at him with those same wide, innocent eyes, finally understanding who he was. She would see the strength and power that she could obtain, the same power that Absinth had foolishly rejected.
He took a deep breath, savoring the moment. Soon, he would make his move, revealing himself not as a monster, but as a savior. The landscape, with its vast expanse of unbroken shadows, was his canvas, and she, his unwitting subject. He had spent years honing his skills, perfecting the art of observation, of control. Absinth had tried to protect her children, to hide them away from him, but blood called to blood, and here was the living proof.
As he watched her, a twisted sense of satisfaction settled over him. Absinth had underestimated him, but her daughter would not. She would come to understand the depth of his love, the lengths he would go to protect his blood and their bond. And when the time came, she would stand by his side, a willing participant in the grand design he had so meticulously crafted. The girl was close now, so close he could almost feel her fear, taste her anxiety.
As she continued her cautious journey through the darkness, Setekh moved with her, a silent stalker. He would bide his time, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself, to claim his place in her life.
wc; 734
"speaking" | voices
Rated R for mature themes, gore, violence, and abuse.
Current time: 10-05-2024, 10:30 PM
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