The One that Got Away: Haunting Dreams

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JMaytr
Evil Genius
Evil Genius
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Joined: Mon Oct 13, 2008 9:43 pm
Location: Portland, OR
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The One that Got Away: Haunting Dreams

Post by JMaytr »

In Town

The night was cold, and wet from the rain, but he didn't notice. He only saw

her...

Just as she'd been in the marketplace in the day; smiling, full of hope, curls of crimson. She looked comforting, warm, encouraging, safe. He needed safe.

Outside her window, in the dark and the rain, Jon moves his hand to his belt. He feels the steel in the sheath but his predatory smiles fades.

Won't be the same.

His hand recoils from the knife like it's a disgusting, repulsive thing. He pushes the birdlike voice from his mind and looks away from the small house towards the crossroads, and the lamplighter marching along, oblivious to everything around him.

Maybe him? The voice caws. He would have a better knife. Not this...poor replacement.

Jonathan Maytr sinks into the shadows. He waits for the lamplighter to do his work and then pass. His attention returns to the woman's window. Inside she has doused one lamp, casting the room in reaching shadows. She has adorned a white, sheer gown to sleep in. It is clear by her playful walk towards her bed that she has selected the gown tonight for its silky texture, as she runs her hands down and then up the front. She reaches for a hairbrush.

And then all Jonathan can see is the noon sky. Overhead the sun is bright and the clouds are like soft piles of wool. The sound of the river is deafening, but the crashing of the water cuts through. Wet and hard and splashing. Jonathan feels the water around him-he's swimming-his body is embraced in the cool, regenerative, life-giving river. And he's strong! His muscles tense and flexed; his body tight and erect. His nostrils fill with the scent of flowers and the deafening crashing of the waves is replaced by screams.

And then release! The pressure, so strong and so tight, relaxes-flowing out of him. There is nothing for a moment...no sounds, no light, no feelings; only calm, peace, serenity.

Then the sun's warm light turns to a sputtering orange. The clouds and sky fade, replaced by dingy, wooden planks. The heat of the day grows chill. Slowly, Jonathan focuses on the lamp coming into view beside the bed. It is stained red with fluid. He looks to his hands,-no claws! Covered in fur, black and matted in the light. He is laying on his back on the bed, covered in crimson; his arms and legs wide like a snow angel-but he is a demon.

She is laying next to him, her gown shredded and punctured, her head lying on the pillow, her hair splayed out behind her like an Ezren halo. So beautiful he thinks. So safe.

His clothes are still in the corner, away from the blood. He shifts from the bed and stands on the floor, a pool forming around his hairy, wet feet. As he moves toward the clothes, his bloody footprints, clear in the moonlight, coalesce into a perfectly round puddle. With each step, his form twists into a more human shape, the blood falling cleanly away, until somehow, none remains. He redresses slowly and deliberately. Putting back on the disguise, his mask, and hiding again from the world, Jonathan Maytr climbs out the window, throwing a final glance to the mutilated woman on the bed.

"I love you," he whispers softly, and honestly, before closing the shutters behind him. But he feels....empty, hollow. Unloved.

Its nothing without your blade. False. Impotent without, Silver. He swallows hard, the feeling of safety vanishing. Without silver and truth, it will never bring back peace.

He hops down and moves swiftly into the night, thinking of revenge. Below the window, his boot prints in the soft earth quickly fade, leaving no trace of their impact.
"Seven Seals...Seven Rings...Seven Brides for the Scarlet King..."
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