set fire to the rain

Alaine Winters · 07-28-2011, 01:16 AM

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Word Count → 3+ :: Arachnea's Revenge, Optime, Night

There was pain, a horrible, lancing pain.

It tore through her like a blazing wildfire, shredding like the claws of some manic predator. And as it burned, it changed, corrupted, leaving behind only a black ash that thickened her blood and made it impossibly difficult to breath.

She knew she was crying, because it was difficult to see, and because when she swiped at her face with the back of one hand it came away wet. But for now, the sorrow was anger, two indistinguishable emotions twisting like barbed wire around her throat.

The mare galloped blindly through the darkness, leaving behind the red-eyed succubis and the open glade and the cool night air. She clung to the creature's back like a wraith, ebony mane lashing her face as it tangling in the wind and stinging when it caught tear-filled emerald eyes. Burning lungs sought to draw in brittle breath, as air rushed past them. She was relentless, urging the beast at a full gallop - Once, the bay stumbled and almost went down, but a sharp shriek and jab of the heels brought it back to a thundering pace.

The dagger glittered wickedly in her grasp, and when her grip slipped, it sliced her palm and bit at her fingers and ran red with blood. The woman didn't care - Didn't even notice. Everything within her was combusting, a terrible whirl-wind of agony and grief and murder. Murder. Murder.

Time flew, as though they had entered a crack in the surface of the world and were lost to its endless shadow. Emerald eyes burned and crackled with feverish intensity, lit by tortured fires. Betrayal. Murder. The gurgling of water filtered through the dull pounding in her ears, and the mare burst through brush and was confronted with rippling water. Rearing, the normally docile creature slashed at the air with its massive hooves, eyes rolling bone-white and ears flattened to the mass of ebony mane. With a raspy cry, Alaine wheeled the creature around, trotting it restlessly up and down the bank. "BADB!" Came the haunted, infuriated cry, heedless of who else might hear. There was no room for fear within her, now. "Tar chugam, drochlaoich! Bastaird! EZEKIEL!" There was a madness to her, seen once before by the Raven King; A dark shadow that had hidden within her crevasses, waiting for a moment like this.

The blade of her dagger sang in the air, carving imaginary hearts as she waved it. Nana whinnied shrilly, her coat damp with sweat and the smell of her fear hanging dankly in the night air.

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