M - the light of the oncoming train

Samael Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 10:20 AM

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WARNING This thread contains: A masochistic character displaying themes that some viewers may not enjoy, starting with the very 1st post. Oh, and there's a creepy Halo table here as well. Reader discretion is advised.

it's poetry carved in flesh, this beautiful hell of ours

Every movement brought about a sickeningly delightful sensation of agony, tearing through the half-healed wounds across his body. Scabs tore and bled, allowing darkness to seep down his arms and torso, reminding him that he still lived and breathed. It was a fucking tragedy. He didn’t deserve to live—not after what he’d done, and what he’d failed to do. He punished himself, reserving the final right for another soul—his beloved, should fate allow it. Until then, he would ensure that he was reminded each and every day of just what a worthless prince he was. He had been destined for greatness, but he’d fallen. The fallen angel had succumbed to decay. It was fucking ironic. He carried nothing save a knife, wreaking havoc on his mortal form. Mortification of the flesh, he’d flay himself alive had he the means. His sorrow was apparent—his self-deprecation demanding physical manifestation of the wrongs he’d committed.

He could not go on if he didn’t make things right, or die in the process. Silently, he moved along the coast, inhaling the briny scent of the ocean and the summer breeze slowly washing ashore. It would be dawn soon. He could see the distant eastern horizon beginning to glow, though from here it would not be as magnificent, for the ocean here faced the wrong way for such a spectacle. The sunset he could see though, as darkness consumed the world. He seated himself on a rock, turning crimson gaze toward a pair of seagulls as they squabbled airborne over something insignificant. He hadn’t eaten in ages. He was gaunt, skeletal, with ragged hair that veiled his features. He didn’t move, not for the longest time. He may as well have become a part of the very shoreline itself.

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Halo Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 10:46 AM

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lalaalalalaalal

The little bastard child lived up to that name and more. She ached for her lost solitude and freedom, but the tumour was there, following her everywhere she went. She could not deny the maternal instinct—it was there, present within her. Still, this did not have to mean that she had to enjoy her crippled life. Itachi was no longer a secret, so hiding him away was of no use anymore. He shamed her. This fact made her immensely sad. Her heart should blaze with warmth for the young puppy, but she couldn’t appreciate him like she should. In many ways, this child was a stranger just like his father. Ash and brown, he did not look very muck like her at all. She had begun to suspect a high percentage of wolf in him, for his form was bulky in comparison to her own, she thought.


She had crossed the invisible clan lines and ventured out into the unclaimed territories with the child trailing her. The Hydra wasn’t pleased with the child’s presence, but at the moment there were no one else that could watch him. Itachi had promised to remain quiet and follow her, and so far he had done well. Perhaps she shouldn’t be walking around unprotected with her son, but she needed the change of air. The Lykoi highly doubted anyone would be up and about this early. Not here anyway. Her slender figure led the couple to the coast. The horizon was blushing behind their backs, but what Halo desired was not to see yet another sunrise. Having lived much of his short life locked inside the mansion, the child roamed the nearby area in quiet awe.


Perhaps a rare, precious smile had been present on the female’s face as last as crimson eyes followed her son’s dancing forms, but the moment shattered and broke as she recognized another form not awfully far away. The existing breeze spoke only of salt, and the stranger canine had its back to them. She felt weary nevertheless, especially since it had taken time for her to detect that presence. ”Itachi,” she snapped, summoning him with a sharp voice. The child turned abruptly to stare at her for a moment before, misjudging her voice and instead sensing a reprimand. Ruby gaze had already returned to the stranger by the shore, but the twin sword’s weight on her back comforted her.

Samael Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 11:03 AM

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it's poetry carved in flesh, this beautiful hell of ours

He conversed with shadows, silently speaking a tongue foreign to the mortal world. They caressed his hair, pushing through the dark locks with skeletal hands and burning, glowing eyes of hellfire and breath of sulfur. They told him of what he’d done, reminding him again and again. Eyes closed, allowing the barrage of insults to fly, crashing against his soul in an infernal tide. He had failed, failed, failed. He was worthless. Serpentine voices hissed in his ears, laughing in sickly, soft voices in harsh, guttural tones. He opened his eyes. He was no longer alone. Turning, crimson eyes first fell on the child, so near, he was almost within reach. Dark hunger rose in his soul—his physical form crying out for sustenance as it slowly starved and withered away. One thin, clawed hand extended outward, palm up, as he lowered himself forward, leaning invitingly toward the young wolf.

Hair still concealed his features, hanging limp and drab across his face, though crimson eyes peered between the dark strands. “Here, child,” he hissed, voice hoarse from lack of use. Curiosity may have possessed the child’s soul, though wariness won out, fueled by its mother’s voice as she cried out. Halo. He knew her. Even as her voice faded from the air he sprung forward, snatching the child up in his hands. Beneath the forearms he lifted him, cradling him as gently as he would one that he adored. He remained where he was, standing silhouetted against the sea and the early morning sky, moving one finger toward the child’s face to soft brush against the damp puppy nose. Cruel smile graced his features, stretching carnally across the canine’s muzzle. “Don’t fret,” he purred, gently stroking the soft fur between the ears.

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Halo Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 11:17 AM

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Of course things went wrong. Her heart leapt to her throat as she recognized the horrible creature—watched Samael turn and snatch up her flesh and blood with his hands. Instincts did not permit her to stand by idly and watch this happen. The sound escaping the female was not as much a whimper as it was a snarl. It should not be possible for this man to fuck her life over like this. It never stopped. Oversized ears pressed against autumn hued locks in distinct dislike of the twisted situation. The Hydra had only wanted to catch a taste of the glittering sea. The coppery taste of fear invaded her senses—she could not avoid it with a past like hers. The small child seemed stunned in the monster’s arms. She, however, was not completely paralyzed.

There was tragedy playing horrendous melodies within her, but lingering in the shadows was quiet anticipation. Perhaps she could regain that freedom that she had lost. Of course, her consciousness could not fathom such an attitude. It was strange, not knowing what to do with herself. Why did he haunt her life this way? When would it be enough? ”Samael,” she warned, approaching slowly yet steadily with haste and rage in every step. Her voice remained steel, but that crimson glare that she had inherited from the man before her trembled. ”Let him go!” Steel was worthless as long as he held that precious little life in his arms.

Samael Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 11:25 AM

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it's poetry carved in flesh, this beautiful hell of ours

Fear may have held the child immobile, but Halo moved with intent straight toward him. Vision shifted from the boy back toward the woman, smiling vaguely. “Oh, is he your’s?” he asked, tone taunting. The Lykoi name may have held some form of protection from the beast over their family, but he hadn’t been in his right mind in a long time. Lucid he may have been, but rational thought had long since vanished. Face moved toward the child’s, gently kissing him lightly upon the brow. “How lovely,” he said, continuing to cradle the boy within his arms, holding him as though he mattered.

Perhaps he did, if Halo made it so. He’d once considered her his own, though he’d since pierced his nails straight into her heart and damaged her soul with his own dark, tainted hands. What he still thought of her remained to be seen. Actions would dictate, for Samael himself did not plan out his actions, nor his responses. He could tear the child limb from limb right now before her very eyes, or place him lightly back upon the ground to allow him to trundle right back into the safety of her embrace. Crimson gaze narrowed distastefully.

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Halo Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 11:40 AM

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She caught the taunt in his voice—could hardly refrain from flying straight at him as his poisonous tongue laughed at her. Black pupils threatened to swallow the crimson within her eyes. She thought she had known fear, but now she was far from certain. Without the overpowering flow of adrenaline, the woman highly doubted she would still be standing. While it still felt like it was trying to crawl up her throat, her anxious heart pushed harshly against the inner walls of her chest. She couldn’t force herself to ponder whether or not Samael really would end up hurting her son. The man had already proven that he was not above destroying his own family, so why should the child’s life matter?

An old realization appeared before her then. She was highly unwilling to test his limits, but perhaps the origin of countless new nightmares could be used as feeble ammunition. Their paths had more or less separated after he had shown her what his wicked form of mercy tasted like, but she had to try. ”Please don’t hurt him!” Oh great, now she was pleading. Her feelings for the evil creature were still as conflicted as back then, though right now all she could do was to sense deafening fear and hatred. ”H-he’s your grandchild,” her voice cried out pathetically. The truth brought bile to the back of her tongue.

Samael Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 11:56 AM

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it's poetry carved in flesh, this beautiful hell of ours

Desperation grew at his words, flooding her as though from an electrical shock. His smile grew, twisting his worn features into something monstrous, though like a blow her words caused the expression to flicker momentarily. Not the pleading, begging tone she’d taken, but the words, perhaps misused in ignorance and nothing more. “Wouldn’t you mean nephew?” he asked, tone callous. His muzzle wrinkled, holding the child in a less comforting embrace. A simple slip up and nothing more, he’d assume, for nothing else could be the truth. Vitium had sired these children despite any resemblance that Halo held with himself—Vitium, that wicked, traitorous bastard that made Samael feel like a saint, for Samael had never betrayed her in his entire life.

He had failed her—gruesomely so—but he had never turned his back on her save to flee in spineless cowardice. He had taken his time in returning, unable to face her when he knew what he’d done. He’d failed, the worst crime of all. He deserved to be stoned to death, flayed alive, and so much more. She should not forgive him for this weakness, as he didn’t deserve her adoration or praise any longer. She hadn’t entrusted him with the truth, and he hadn’t avenged her. He didn’t belong here anymore, if he ever had. He was worthless now—his presence a dark, intolerable stain on starched linen.

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Halo Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 12:22 PM

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His monstrous grin brought a strange sense of hurt over her. How could he take such pleasure in her open despair? Perhaps this was part of that madness she had thought so highly of. Yet there was nothing that could be done about this—she remained powerless and small, slowly being devoured by the red eyed man’s shadow. She had not managed to become what he had wanted her to be, but had she fallen that far? Or was it her? His mock danced on twisted features, but her words seemed to touch him , if only for a moment. Time was what she lacked the most at the moment. Blood was blood; she could not deny who and what she was, even if it hurt.

”No, Daddy,” the woman answered; the title granted him burning her tongue. Poison spilled into her tense voice, but she could not help it. This was beyond fucked up. Way beyond. Some form of black humour must have found her then, because she found herself unable to stop herself now. ”Itachi, this is your Grandpa Samael,” Strange how she could sound so calm when the world was spinning and absolutely mad. Her crimson gaze softened. She would truly suffer if the child was taken away from her. ”Please let him go.. You don't have to do this..” she begged, hands reaching for the child beyond her reach.

Samael Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 12:36 PM

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it's poetry carved in flesh, this beautiful hell of ours

Fear, hopelessness, despair—any sort of dark wickedness within one’s soul fed the demon, fueling him further than mere food or water ever could. His body was starved for true sustenance, though the thought had long since ceased to occur. He didn’t move, drawing no further nor nearer to the female as she clutched desperately for her child. “Daddy?” he repeated, the word as acidic on his tongue as it’d been on her’s. “How? I thought Vitium was your father?” the hell prince asked, his brother’s name spoken with absolute loathing.

Blood red eyes remained narrowed, uncertain what sort of ploy this girl was conjuring up, twisting against him. He hadn’t been her father before, so why should it have suddenly changed now? He took a single step back, holding the child closer to his bony chest, out of her grasp. “I won’t hurt him unless you give me reason to,” he said, more truthful than not at this point. He was intrigued and it showed, though if she proved nothing more than a liar he’d tear the boy apart without remorse right in front of her very eyes.

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Halo Lykoi · 07-23-2010, 12:49 PM

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Muscles wanted to give in and topple her over now, but she could no longer move. It had been horrible to face this with Jael’s embrace offered her comfort. All she had was Samael’s cruel stare, and he was the one who had destroyed her life—kept destroying it again and again. Her heart fluttered as the man too spoke that frightening word. She did not want to be the one to explain, but the situation was dire and what else could she do but to serve him the truth? Itachi did not cry, even as he watched his mother’s ruby eyes tear up in front of them. ”Colibri Soul is my mother,” as if a mere name would matter to the deranged man. She doubted he knew the names of the majority of his victims. ”Vitium was not the only monster that violated her,” she hissed. Or was he? Perhaps she had been served a lie. Her blood told her no, but the woman suddenly found herself desperate. Samael would say no, that this was not true.

His words brought relief to her, but she knew she could not trust in them. But she couldn’t do anything but to nod,. Eyes shed silent tears, but it was not as if this was the first time she had cried in front of the demon. ”I’ll do whatever you say, just.. please...” Rage was fading and she knew she was weak, for hopelessness was all she had left.

Samael Lykoi · 07-24-2010, 03:08 PM

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loosen the noose, love. loosen the noose with love.

The name. He’d never been one to recall names with absolute certainty, though something in the surname conjured up an image of silver eyes and snow-white hair. The rest was mere gibberish, but there was something alluring about the name “Soul” and its connotations—something morbid, and something ethereal. “A pale white she-wolf?” he said, more to himself than to Halo, for he was certain that he knew who her mother was now. Always, there’d been something about light-haired women—the dove-like, flawless exterior unmatched by the hollow, wolfen soul within.

They were lovely on the outside, yet worthless within. He loved to damage that exterior, staining the unmarred surface crimson and black with his filthy hands. It wasn’t as though they’d ever met again. But the time matched, and he could imagine the truth as it was. One last stroke found the boy’s head before he held him out to the girl, relinquishing his hold on the child. There was no reason to be cruel any longer to Halo. He would give her what she wanted and provide no further reason for tears to leak down her cheeks. She’d been birthed of destruction and sin after all.

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Halo Lykoi · 07-24-2010, 03:38 PM

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She nodded soundlessly when his words made clear that this was no misunderstanding. Vitium could continue to claim that it was his blood she carried, but she knew that she could not doubt the evidence standing before her, holding the next generation created through sin. In the past, whenever she had gazed upon the scarred face with the blood red eyes, she had believed the similarity to be mere Lykoi. Her own obvious ignorance made her sad, but Samael had not noticed this either, so she was not alone. Her blood was still bad; at least that was something that had remained unchanged.

Then, he let the boy go. She grabbed hold of the small form and did not flinch as her hands briefly touched Samael's as the exchange was made. With Itachi pressed against her pacing heart the woman took a few steps back and away from the devil dressed in flesh. Her heart deserved to be black of hate for all the shit he forced her through. She blinked away the hot tears; stared at him without anticipation. "Thank you," were the words to eventually leave her lips. The Hydra wanted nothing more than to hate the man before her, but that hatred she held was not exactly pure.

Samael Lykoi · 07-24-2010, 04:21 PM

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loosen the noose, love. loosen the noose with love.

She took the child back and stepped away. He turned away as well, saying nothing, as he reached for the knife that’d fallen forgotten to the ground when he’d lunged for the child. Blowing dust from the deadly silver he seated himself on the rock that he’d originally been reposed upon, as though never disturbed in the slightest. It was a weary, almost defeated motion, allowing all desire for cruelty to fade into nothing. She was his child. What the hell did that mean?

He’d never cared before about any of the countless offspring he’d sired before. He didn’t even know how many bastards ran about with his blood running through their veins and crimson eyes in their heads. The edge of the blade moved between his lips in a thoughtful motion, though he shared nothing. “What’s his name?” he finally asked, having already forgotten the title she’d cried out in warning, summoning the child back to the safety of her side.

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Halo Lykoi · 07-24-2010, 05:41 PM

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Halo could not trust the man turning away from those of his blood, but she could not find the strength to turn and walk away now. He scared her so, but a wicked admiration for the devil could not be denied. He had done gruesome things, but the female blamed herself as well for what had happened in their shared past. Perhaps she could have understood his twisted point of view if she put an effort into it, but she was not yet at that point. Madness could not always be explained. He had once before revealed that her blood meant very little to him and she could not really see why this would change now. Despite it all, the woman remained, holding the young soul firmly against her warm, silky chest.

There was no violence present in the man now. She slowly moved, walked up next to her father. The presence of the knife did not particularly unsettle her, for she had seen worse things done with his claws and fangs. Samael was a bringer of death dressed in blood and flesh. "Itachi," her soft murmur sounded, speaking the name in the Lykoi man's presence a third time. She wondered why he had decided to let go of the child. His face had held such wickedness. Halo did no longer adore Samael as she once had when she was young and foolish, but that did not necessarily mean he meant nothing to her. It was sad that things were as they were, but she could not change anything.

Samael Lykoi · 07-29-2010, 12:46 PM

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darling take me home to the castle made of skulls and bones
Itachi. It wouldn’t be surprising if the name again faded from his memory only moments later. The child was nothing more than a boy, and yet worthless in his eyes. He could understand the potential of the young, but they held no other purpose, so dependant and so frail. He and his siblings had been hidden away from the world until they’d grown, finally meeting Inferni with their heads held high and sickening pride permeating from every inch of their flesh. They were princes and holy damned—vessels birthed to wreck havoc and destroy the world. He said nothing. He’d never been adept at anything outside of destruction, for that was his sole purpose and nothing more.

The others may have faded from their origins, taking on a mortal life, but not Samael. He lived and breathed murder, and he spoke only to wraiths that lurked beyond the normal range of vision. The angel was all that he lived for now, along with Kaena. But the angel hadn’t spoken in a long, long time. The silence was overbearing. The angel was he, and he was the devil dressed in the mutilated garb of a being of light. He was split into many fracture pieces, each more horrible than the last. Only darkness remained.

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