Post by Ange de la Mort on Oct 3, 2009 15:18:07 GMT -5
As I wandered, a bit drunk, through Night's Doorstep, I felt an old familiar ache wash over me. I'd been in the City for some time and had thought that I had exorcised my demons, but it seemed that no matter how far I ran, they would always follow.
'Twas with a sigh somewhere between desire and remorse that I followed a kitchen girl down a back alley, glancing this way and that to see that no one followed. The darkness of this night was palpable, almost a living thing, abetting me in what I knew I must do.
Purification. I had been called, by the Angels themselves, to be the scourge on which every harlot in Terre d'Ange must purify herself. I had thought at times to escape my destiny, but at other times I reveled in it. Like now, when she was so close that I could practically hear her breath on the cool autumn night air.
She hadn't seen me yet, as I moved like a shadow when my calling was upon me, and as she tossed some trash into a pile at the end of the alleyway, I slipped even further into the shadows, observing her to make certain that she was my quarry for the night. I couldn't make out her features in the dark, but I was sure she was lovely, for even the poorest D'angeline was beautiful to look upon, which beauty only served to hide their filthy souls. I could sense that she was the one, however, and that was good enough for me.
As she walked past me, pulling her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill that had seemingly pervaded the alleyway, I fell into step behind her. She still hadn't seen me, but she began to sense the danger, her steps coming faster. While we were still far enough into the alley that no one from the street was near, I caught up to her in two long strides, one arm going around her painfully thin waist, the other hand coming up to cover her mouth.
"As much as I would enjoy hearing you scream, pretty one, now is not the time." I whispered in her ear. Yes, at times I was able to fully enjoy purging a woman of her sinful nature, but here in the alley it would have to be over quickly. To that end, I pressed her up against the bricks, holding her to the wall with a knee to her stomach, even as she struggled, trying to bite my hand. With my free hand, I pulled a curved dagger, a gift from a valued associate, from my belt, looking into her eyes as I eviscerated her with one smooth motion.
Oh, the way her eyes widened, first in pain, then in the realization that her time in this world was ending. I smiled, removing my hand and placing a kiss on her lips, so that I might taste her last breath. There was nothing more beautiful than a woman who had been purified in blood and suffering.
I stepped back as the life fled her eyes completely, though it took a minute or two, during which I imagined she suffered terribly. Her body slid down the wall with a soft thud, and I stepped quickly away, removing my cloak, which was bound to have some of her blood on it, and covering her with it. I reached into my pocket for a small candle, lighting it with the flint and steel I always carried, turning my back so that no light would show from this dark alleyway. In a pouch rested a ring, a ring with a signet never seen by any but those who attended the dead, which I pulled forth and held over the flame until it burned white hot. I pressed it to her cheek, etching the mark upon her, the flesh burning and bubbling underneath. She was a lucky one, as I preferred to leave the mark while they still lived, but tonight I had been hurried.
Now that I was finished here, I decided that another type of purification was in order. Once back under the lamplight, I checked my person for blood or other telltale signs of the evening's activities. Finding none, I headed to the Night Court, to sate the arousal that always came on the heels of ridding the world of one more harlot. Of course, those of the NIght Court were whores as well, but I contented myself with the thought that their time would come.
'Twas with a sigh somewhere between desire and remorse that I followed a kitchen girl down a back alley, glancing this way and that to see that no one followed. The darkness of this night was palpable, almost a living thing, abetting me in what I knew I must do.
Purification. I had been called, by the Angels themselves, to be the scourge on which every harlot in Terre d'Ange must purify herself. I had thought at times to escape my destiny, but at other times I reveled in it. Like now, when she was so close that I could practically hear her breath on the cool autumn night air.
She hadn't seen me yet, as I moved like a shadow when my calling was upon me, and as she tossed some trash into a pile at the end of the alleyway, I slipped even further into the shadows, observing her to make certain that she was my quarry for the night. I couldn't make out her features in the dark, but I was sure she was lovely, for even the poorest D'angeline was beautiful to look upon, which beauty only served to hide their filthy souls. I could sense that she was the one, however, and that was good enough for me.
As she walked past me, pulling her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill that had seemingly pervaded the alleyway, I fell into step behind her. She still hadn't seen me, but she began to sense the danger, her steps coming faster. While we were still far enough into the alley that no one from the street was near, I caught up to her in two long strides, one arm going around her painfully thin waist, the other hand coming up to cover her mouth.
"As much as I would enjoy hearing you scream, pretty one, now is not the time." I whispered in her ear. Yes, at times I was able to fully enjoy purging a woman of her sinful nature, but here in the alley it would have to be over quickly. To that end, I pressed her up against the bricks, holding her to the wall with a knee to her stomach, even as she struggled, trying to bite my hand. With my free hand, I pulled a curved dagger, a gift from a valued associate, from my belt, looking into her eyes as I eviscerated her with one smooth motion.
Oh, the way her eyes widened, first in pain, then in the realization that her time in this world was ending. I smiled, removing my hand and placing a kiss on her lips, so that I might taste her last breath. There was nothing more beautiful than a woman who had been purified in blood and suffering.
I stepped back as the life fled her eyes completely, though it took a minute or two, during which I imagined she suffered terribly. Her body slid down the wall with a soft thud, and I stepped quickly away, removing my cloak, which was bound to have some of her blood on it, and covering her with it. I reached into my pocket for a small candle, lighting it with the flint and steel I always carried, turning my back so that no light would show from this dark alleyway. In a pouch rested a ring, a ring with a signet never seen by any but those who attended the dead, which I pulled forth and held over the flame until it burned white hot. I pressed it to her cheek, etching the mark upon her, the flesh burning and bubbling underneath. She was a lucky one, as I preferred to leave the mark while they still lived, but tonight I had been hurried.
Now that I was finished here, I decided that another type of purification was in order. Once back under the lamplight, I checked my person for blood or other telltale signs of the evening's activities. Finding none, I headed to the Night Court, to sate the arousal that always came on the heels of ridding the world of one more harlot. Of course, those of the NIght Court were whores as well, but I contented myself with the thought that their time would come.