[Requiem] Background Stuff

[meltedcandle.livejournal.com]

Some random historic background stuff for my current Requiem character and vaguely in line with the September challenge thingy.

He could see it shining in her eyes. It obscured any reflection, eating the light that would have produced any image. The dark, ravenous hunger that clawed at her soul, that drove her onward. They hadn’t eaten for days and they were both getting close. He could see her controlling it, not letting it slip but it played on her features in the shadows, contorting her pretty face into bestial shapes.

He loved her. Every single inch, every single bit of her. He loved her quick, sharp mind, her blackened laughter, the way she smiled after they had finished, the way she let the coin just fall from her fingers, the dark light that shone in her eyes.

They had been running for three nights and they had finally shaken the Hounds. So now they sat under the moonlight, watching, waiting, listening. He expanded his senses, one by one to take in the world around them. He loved the sensation, seeing, hearing, and tasting the perfection of Gods world with the powers of the Damned. It tore at him to know that he was no longer a part of the perfection, that they were no longer part of Gods perfection.

She did not understand, she would not understand, she refused to understand. She had faith; she had always had faith. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice, taste it in her breath but she did not understand.

He could smell the old blood that clung to her like a second skin before he saw the dark flecks embedded in her pores along with the dirt from the road. She had kissed the last one goodbye as the blood bubbled through their lips, the last gasp before their soul left to be judged in the afterlife. He had silently prayed, she had laughed and wiped it off with the back of one hand. They had left the body half full, bloated on success and sated with what they had already taken. They were foolish; they let their hearts rule their minds that night. The sustenance they had so casually discarded would have served them well now.

He reached out and ran a hand across her cheek, her cold, dead flesh rough beneath his fingertips. He could pick out each fleck of blood, each mote of dust, and each piece of dirt that caused her normally smooth skin to be uneven. She closed her eyes and growled softly, the sound vibrating through his bones and chilling him to the pit of his stomach. Before she would sigh. Now she growled. He could not remember the last time her skin had felt smooth.

He let his hand drop as his fingers traced the line of her jaw and silently stood up. Their associate was approaching. Gods breath carried the scent of her perfume and the sweat of the horse she rode to him an instant before the sound of hooves digging into the soft earth.

A minute later he simply said “She’s coming.” And his partner stood up next to him; uncurling in her own imitable way and drawing her weapon. Before she would have risen with him, now she hadn’t even realised he was gone. She didn’t feel him, didn’t see him as she once did.

Their associate edged the horse forward into the clearing, their anger at the animal’s reticence and having to come so far out of the town getting the better of them.

“I’m here.” They sneered sweetly into the empty clearing. He could see the wrinkles in their face caused by the irritation that gripped them, the tautness of the reins held in a resentful grip. He watched it shift as their cut was thrown from the shadows and the bag landed heavily in the center of the clearing.

The moonlight caught in their associates and the beasts eyes as they stepped out from where they were hidden and he caught a glimpse of what they looked upon. The anger and bitterness vanishing into the void and being filled with caution tinged with fear. He watched as they chastised themselves for their anger, for their stupidity.

Monsters, he had recently been told, did not love. They could not love.