Complexities of Creation
Professor
Anatomist
11-11-2024, 03:52 PM
Mariah's heart seized as Moros emerged from the shadows, his massive form looming over her prone body. Those merciless black eyes raked across her exposed flesh, stripping away any shred of dignity or safety. She wanted to thrash, to fight, to flee - but her body remained frozen, locked in the icy grip of her own terror. She trembled uncontrollably as Moros's dark laughter echoed through the void, filling her with utter dread. She strained against the unseen bonds holding her down, desperate to break free, but it was futile. The demonic entity had complete control over her in this nightmarish realm, and with every breath she took, the shadows seemed to tighten around her like a vice.
Each click of his claws on the ground sent tremors through her core, resonating in her soul as if signaling the beginning of her suffering. Mariah’s mind raced, grappling with the suffocating sense of despair that threatened to overwhelm her. The knowledge that this was a dream was no comfort; it felt visceral, tangible, more real than any waking moment. She could almost feel the weight of the darkness pressing down on her chest, squeezing out hope and filling her with an intoxicating dread.
"Please," she whispered, her voice barely a tremor amid the oppressive silence. It was a plea she knew he would relish, the sound of her submission filling him with delight- she could see it on his face. Mariah felt her heart race, understanding the cruel game he played—a predator savoring the moment before the hunt. She couldn’t help but shudder at the intimate touch, nausea churning in her gut. This wasn't real, she desperately tried to remind herself. It was just a nightmare, a horrific figment of her own broken psyche. But as Moros's vile touch traced along her abdomen, the sensation sparked a terror that was more real than any she had been subjected to before. A scream clawed at her throat, silenced by the looming darkness enveloping her, suffocating the vessel of her voice. She could almost convince herself of safety, to believe that waking life awaited just beyond the veil of this torment—but every whisper of Moros's taunts grounded her more firmly in her despair, anchoring her to the abyss.
Mariah's mind reeled at Moros' words, her blood running cold at the implication. Bloodline? The thought that she could be connected to this monstrous entity in any way filled her with revulsion and despair. But of course … she had already thought this monster resembled her father. Perhaps she had always known. Mariah's stomach churned with nausea, bile rising in her throat at his insinuation. The idea that she shared any connection to this vile creature was abhorrent, yet a terrible certainty settled over her like a shroud. Those pitch-black eyes, that cruel smile—how could she deny the twisted thread woven between them? Each heartbeat resonated in her ears, a frantic drum signaling both fear and a desperate resolve. Mariah strained against the invisible bonds constricting her, every ounce of her being screaming for liberation.
Mariah's heart hammered against her ribs, every fiber of her being recoiling from Moros' invasive touch. His claws raked through her fur, tracing lines of dread across her vulnerable flesh. She wanted to scream, to beg, to plead for mercy—but the words died in her throat, swallowed by the suffocating darkness. As Moros loomed between her forcibly extended legs, Mariah felt that wave of nausea crash over her in another round. His abyssal gaze bore into her, stripping away any pretense of dignity or control. She was utterly at his mercy, a helpless pawn in his twisted game. The weight of his paw above her pelvis sent shudders of revulsion through her body, every instinct screaming at her to flee, to fight, to do anything to escape this nightmare.
But there was no escape. No matter how desperately she strained against her invisible bonds, Mariah remained trapped, frozen in a hell of her own making. Tears stung her eyes as despair clawed at her heart. She knew what was coming, the inevitable violation that would shatter her very being. "No more," she gasped, desperation lacing her voice, but it sounded like a whisper drowned in the void. Mariah's mind raced, searching for a flicker of hope, for any thread that could tether her back to reality. Yet even as she sought to mentalize the horror away, the truth bled through each thought—this was her prison.
"Mariah Mendacium"
Each click of his claws on the ground sent tremors through her core, resonating in her soul as if signaling the beginning of her suffering. Mariah’s mind raced, grappling with the suffocating sense of despair that threatened to overwhelm her. The knowledge that this was a dream was no comfort; it felt visceral, tangible, more real than any waking moment. She could almost feel the weight of the darkness pressing down on her chest, squeezing out hope and filling her with an intoxicating dread.
"Please," she whispered, her voice barely a tremor amid the oppressive silence. It was a plea she knew he would relish, the sound of her submission filling him with delight- she could see it on his face. Mariah felt her heart race, understanding the cruel game he played—a predator savoring the moment before the hunt. She couldn’t help but shudder at the intimate touch, nausea churning in her gut. This wasn't real, she desperately tried to remind herself. It was just a nightmare, a horrific figment of her own broken psyche. But as Moros's vile touch traced along her abdomen, the sensation sparked a terror that was more real than any she had been subjected to before. A scream clawed at her throat, silenced by the looming darkness enveloping her, suffocating the vessel of her voice. She could almost convince herself of safety, to believe that waking life awaited just beyond the veil of this torment—but every whisper of Moros's taunts grounded her more firmly in her despair, anchoring her to the abyss.
Mariah's mind reeled at Moros' words, her blood running cold at the implication. Bloodline? The thought that she could be connected to this monstrous entity in any way filled her with revulsion and despair. But of course … she had already thought this monster resembled her father. Perhaps she had always known. Mariah's stomach churned with nausea, bile rising in her throat at his insinuation. The idea that she shared any connection to this vile creature was abhorrent, yet a terrible certainty settled over her like a shroud. Those pitch-black eyes, that cruel smile—how could she deny the twisted thread woven between them? Each heartbeat resonated in her ears, a frantic drum signaling both fear and a desperate resolve. Mariah strained against the invisible bonds constricting her, every ounce of her being screaming for liberation.
Mariah's heart hammered against her ribs, every fiber of her being recoiling from Moros' invasive touch. His claws raked through her fur, tracing lines of dread across her vulnerable flesh. She wanted to scream, to beg, to plead for mercy—but the words died in her throat, swallowed by the suffocating darkness. As Moros loomed between her forcibly extended legs, Mariah felt that wave of nausea crash over her in another round. His abyssal gaze bore into her, stripping away any pretense of dignity or control. She was utterly at his mercy, a helpless pawn in his twisted game. The weight of his paw above her pelvis sent shudders of revulsion through her body, every instinct screaming at her to flee, to fight, to do anything to escape this nightmare.
But there was no escape. No matter how desperately she strained against her invisible bonds, Mariah remained trapped, frozen in a hell of her own making. Tears stung her eyes as despair clawed at her heart. She knew what was coming, the inevitable violation that would shatter her very being. "No more," she gasped, desperation lacing her voice, but it sounded like a whisper drowned in the void. Mariah's mind raced, searching for a flicker of hope, for any thread that could tether her back to reality. Yet even as she sought to mentalize the horror away, the truth bled through each thought—this was her prison.
