M. Keep On Pretending

Lucia Cabriel · 08-12-2011, 06:14 PM

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Really crappy starting post. Sad

Night had come swiftly. The woods, generally painted in darkness the majority of the time, seemed even more so in the looming shadow of the mountains. There was silence in the air, not even a whisper on the wind nor the cry of an eagle. It was as though an unseen force had stopped time and the world ceased to turn. It was eerie, as though the whole landscape had succumbed to a deathly state. This, however, did not phase the ebony female that weaved comfortably through the myriad of trees and shrubbery. Her feet hit the ground silently, angelically enough to seem like she was floating. But she was no angel. A scar carved across her left eye and another ripped into her right shoulder, she displayed her wounds with little care. They were pink and damaged, never properly healing due to her masochistic nature. Sometimes they would even give a little sting, reminding her of their presence, and the fact she would never escape the past. She was a canvass of memories, and the only good ones were the tattoos she had carved into her flesh. Atop her left breast lay a strange symbol, known only as the Keyworks, around her right wrist was a pentagram, and her latest edition, something she had done herself with her own dagger in her suffering and self loathing, a snake wrapped around her left ankle. This was a constant reminder of the pain her once-upon-a-time coyote lover had given before he disappeared into the night – a night oddly similar to this one. No wonder she had such a deranged glint in her eyes.

Carrying on through the trees, her eyes fixed firmly on the ground, Lucia didn’t know why she had felt the need to explore. She had lived here for a while now, and the majority of it she had scouted. Something inside her had told her to walk, to explore, and now she knew why. There was a familiar scent in the air, something that could bring warmth to her cold heart and lust into her soul. And yet, there was little expression on her face to display such things. Still her head hung sullenly, shoulders sank, and eyes glued on the badly healing scar on her ankle. She wondered what others would think of her handiwork. In her opinion, it wasn’t all that bad – a little sore, but then again, pain helped to remind her she was alive.

It was during her journey into thoughtful corridors that she realized where she was. Her head lifted, eyes shining violently in the darkness that consumed her surroundings. She blended in beautifully, her dark pelt the perfect camouflage. This was where she had met Zalen. A bizarre, but beautiful meeting of a male who almost changed her mind about everything. Ever since Snake, her hatred had grown rapidly, she was bitter and fragile. And yet, she never found it easy to hate Zalen – even to this day, part of her still couldn’t manage it. What would she do if she saw him again? What would she say? The last time they had seen each other; there had been passion, lust, and a strange connection between them. Why was that? What did they share that nobody else could see or touch? Was fate trying to tell them something? It confused the coal-furred woman immensely.

With these thoughts firmly on her mind, Lucia paused. Glancing around, she could almost recall how it felt to have his hand in hers. How it felt to taste his lips, and stare into those viridian eyes. For a moment it was as though she missed it, but this quickly evaporated. The time between them had been long, and she hadn’t got any better. If anything, the hatred had increased, the anger more explosive, and the instability an active volcano waiting to blow.

Scoffing loudly, Lucia sat casually at the base of a tree – the same tree she had used when she had met the unusual male. A cigarette already in her fingertips, she quickly lit the end. Inhaling deeply, a small hiss escaping her lips, she closed her eyes. She just wanted to forget everything, everyone... especially him. Why couldn’t she do that? Why was her heart so stubborn? Slipping back into her thoughts once more, no longer acknowledging the world around her, Lucia continued to drain the cancerous stick. This was all she ever wanted… poison, solitude and complete silence. Was that really so much to ask for?

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