11-22-2009, 07:34 PM
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Madness was inescapable when it infiltrated one’s blood, pouring through every vein and bleeding out through self-inflicted gashes. Misery was second-nature to the monster, pessimistic at heart and unable to find the good in anything. His soul was painted black from birth, dredged up from the depths of hell rather than a gift from god to the earth, granted free-will and hope. He was less than a monster, despite all arrogance and pride, tearing his own body apart and allowing anyone to mark his flesh without reason. Slowly, day by day he was dying—decaying from the inside out. He wouldn’t live long, consciousness shifting back and forth constantly between functioning and destroyed. He would abandon the clan for stretches of time, aimlessly wandering the wilderness like a prince in exile, searching and searching for something he could not fathom. The angel no longer spoke to him—only shadows whispered in his ears, hissing threats of death and conjuring up images of what they’d like to do to him. Kaena he loved, but he could never have her—not in this lifetime in the manner he desired. The very thought tore him apart, sending him into a fit of rage and setting his claws onto anything and everything within reach, including himself. He wasn’t even allowed to kill wolves any longer, knowing he had to travel far to exact his emotions onto hapless strays far from the ears of Inferni, and the very thought disgusted him. He’d been raised to despise wolves, learning to murder them early on, and here he was shackled and collared like a disobedient child. The only reason he’d returned was to be near Kaena, and now he was bound by their rules, unable to escape or face his mother’s wrath when he broke the rules. Samael was a killer and nothing could change that, yet he was cursed by an unwavering obsession—for his love was nothing short of unnatural and immoral. Temper smoldering and will-power fraying, the beast simply walked, finding nothing else worthy of occupying his time. |