26

83 3 0
                                    

I will sleep in your bed of chaos,
and make love to all of your storms.

.

Reader discretion advised (sexual content)

.

More than repulsed,

I fought back plenty urges to gag to maintain a settling stomach, filled with both agony and odium.

With weakened knees, my eyelids fluttered repetitively to the point I was almost certain that I would inevitably pass out any second now, and so help me god — as tempting as it may sound, I'm afraid of what could happen to me if I fall again into another insufferable realm.

A sleep so deep that it blinded me to another deluded theme of malignity and compression.

A setting that enthralled and bestowed me with the greatest of vivid imagination, picturesque images would flash above my irises to momentarily blind me of an vindictive fate, that I tried so desperately to escape from in the daytime. Weirdly somehow, the characters, the creatures who relieved these dreams within... would always find me.

"To love well would be unwise." Vera reads, beginning to slide her hand over the writing carved into what she could only assume was, pure absolute resin and marble. "What could that mean?" Vera turns to look at a disheveled Mavis, whose already running up the long antagonizing stairs.

The more she looks off into the distance as the privative words linger into her brain, immediately she upturns them into a vault nearly almost forgetting them as she abandoned the prospect of what they could mean and what in favor could it do for her.

Although at the time it never occurred to me in which it was a cursed moral, an ancient political effigy that changes by the relevancy of a person over time, the words remained irritably identical to the first day I transfixed eyes upon it. The message was withstanding as it was scathing, I could almost feel the claws of empathy creeping up the bridge beyond my spleen.

The irony is more insufferable than it intended, is what I chose to believe as I make eye contact with everyone standing around me in the room. I look over my shoulder yet again at the figurine to see the engravings still legible as the first day I pervaded the castle and for the first time in a long time, I let out the most earnest chortle, one that devours the room enough that it bounces off the ceilings, the walls, and I can only assume how deranged I may look in front of Alexander.

There's a lot of things I've lost that night since I invaded the prince's courters and who could have known I'd be signing over my rights of pro-choice. To make my own decision, to discover these things about myself that were only triggered after the meeting of him. I've always thought directing blame someone due to your own misfortune was narcissistic, but I've never been more certain in my life that this was indeed his fault. Isn't it? How couldn't it be?

In a scoff, "It's all starting to make sense now isn't it?" She wants to laugh but I swear even a hint of pity crosses the humane within Clarity's optics. The way she moves closer to me sends me the red light to take a step backward away from any advances she'd make.

Apart of me is also too afraid that all of my anger has desolated, and I'd be just tearing her jugular out just for the hell of being crazed. "If anyone else finds out what you are, there going in for the kill. If you're not already dead by the likes of me of course."

Feral Eclipse(EDITING)Where stories live. Discover now