A Mirror Never Lies; I See What They See
04-21-2014, 06:35 PM
Have you ever had those dreams to where your counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums? Where your the only black sheep to the herd of all white? You feel forgotten, misunderstood, and frowned upon. You're proclaimed the kin-slayer of the land, where all you know how to do is kill. That sweet taste of metallic, sticky, liquid that seems to ravish your hunger with it's forsaken lust. You can never have to little, or to much. It's a priority, a dark obsession that inhabits a part of you and makes heist at drowning the little sanity you have left; you crave it. You must know what this feels like, for, the demonic female standing before you is aware of this feeling. Find's ones self lost in the masses of raging tides of blood-thirsty behavior; turning you to a savage beast that is lurking in the shadows just waiting to strike. You may notice, that this indeed is who Sinister Amenti Kills has become.. So beware the dangers you shall come across upon meeting the Devil's Masquerade. The evil fae paraded through the Devil's Spout, dodging past low hanging branches, and propelling herself over colossal logs that blocked her path. Nothing could stand in her way, she was on the hunt, the kill. That endless craving of blood started to eat her alive, peeling each layer of sanity she tries to keep standing, but some how it comes crashing down again. And this was just one of those days when this female needs to bask on some flesh, whether it be her own kind or something foreign. This she-wolf was itching to sink her daggers into some plump epithelium. But that shall not be done by just a flick of her wrist, should she unravel the fundamentals of pure chaos and have her demon unleash itself and summon wrath on a helpless being. Within an hour, Sinister's limbs were crying out for remorse, yet she pushed herself forward to continue on. Keeping herself at bay from collapsing she purged faster, low, rough grunts vibrate against her mighty jaws; ones that threatened to rip the juggler from her next victim. which will be quite soon, very soon. The femme was loosing her temper, sending her oculars into punishment as they swirled an electrifying blood-shot red and her scarred being that showed the many battles she had been in. All of them she had won, and none of her opponents came out alive. The scars on her being entitled dominance and the true appearance of a gladiator.. That scent, the burning one of a near-by in heat doe. It drew her forward, enclosing on the fragile force whom of which grazed upon a patch of thick swards. Draping her depthless eye sockets along the frame of the deer, counting down the clock and timing her attack just right so that she'd execute it automatically instead of the beast fighting for it's life. Sinister started her countdown, readying her position as her masculine alignments swayed while she crouched down further, so that now her white coat scraped the earth surface. Ear lobs flickering left and right, trying to catch the quietest sound that could be heard in her ear drums. Sinister's tongue fell over her black tinted lips, those dark circles underneath her eyes darkened, giving her that insomniac look. Now all it took was the last rounding of the shoulders and she launched her attack. Landing sharply on the hind quarters of the doe, it's eerie cries of 'help' could only be heard for the slightest moment until the she-wolf ended them. One claw torn into the layers of flesh on it's neck, while her canines drove into the back; daring to yank it's entire spinal cord out. Of course, that would take a lot of effort, so she simply hammered her jaws down upon her victims throat. slicing through one soft tissue of muscle to the other, her muzzle now fully covered in the tainted prisms of maroon blood. Moments passed by and the semi-large hoofed beast was slowly beginning to let it's life be cut off. The ending of it's pain only took a second to do, dangling it's juggler from her maw and allowing the rich liquid to sate her hunger. OOC;; Sorry for the shitty post, running on a low fuse. Walk,"Talk", Think |