Dreamless dorm, ticking clock
I walk away from the soundless room
Windless night, moonlight melts
My ghostly shadow to the lukewarm gloom
Nightly dance of bleeding swords
Reminds me that I still live
I will burn my dread
I once ran away from the god of fear
And he chained me to despair
Burn my dread
I'll break the chain
And run till I see the sunlight again
I'll lift my face and run to the sunlight
Voiceless town, tapping feet
I clench my fists in pockets tight
Far in mist a tower awaits
Like a merciless tomb, devouring moonlight
Clockwork maze end unknown
In frozen time a staircase stands
Shadows crawl on bloodstained floor
I rush straight ahead with a sword in hands
Cold touch of my trembling gun
I close my eyes to hear you breathe
I will burn my dread
This time I'll grapple down that god of fear
And throw him into hell's fire
Burn my dread
I'll shrug the pain
And run till I see the sunlight again
Oh I will run burning all regret and dread
And I will face the sun with pride of the living
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night moon hanged high in the sky, casting looming shadows over a dark setting. A castle of sorts by the structure and it's halls filled with many a people. Within the mass of what could of been a courtyard there was a small x-structure which a tiny frame was held to by means of tightened rope and shackles. The sound of cracking whip meeting flesh broke the night air. It was no ordinary whip that would tear through flesh in such a gory mess. The kiss of metal to young flesh sent crimson to splash the air and fall to the ground below. Not just the back would the bladed whip kiss but coil to other parts to the hanging form. Arms, chest, stomach.. Any place it could curl to once unleashed it did.
On the handle end of the whip stood a towering figure, close to seven feet. Chiseled features half clouded by silvery hair. A beautiful man if there ever was if it were. Blue eyes were colder then any ice could be and the sinister smirk that displayed on his thin lips showed that he enjoyed the task at hand.
The crack whipped and a cry spilled into the night finally. Female broken into submission. The blank look haunting green eyes nearly eclipsed the frailty of such a youth. Some horrors forever shattered her mind stated quite clearly in the frightening shimmer that burned deep within her gaze. Hair fell in snarl of dirty locks around fragile features. Milky flesh smudged with dirt, blood, and callous bruises that cover nearly every inch of her body.
Suddenly the whip ceased and the youth slumped, held only by the bindings that kept her so close to the wooden structure. Blood spilled from her freely and pain howled over her entire being. It was there she was left...
Morning crept forth and the first spray of light met the pallid figure that seemed for the most part unconscious. Fingers coiled suddenly to dark, vital caked strains and forced the youth's head back more. Blood filled her mouth. Disgusting and old in taste it made her choke as it overfilled and seeped down from the corner of her lips. A hand stroked sharply across her cheek soundly for daring cough up such a precious gift as the blood. Head leaned to the side she remained in the submissive position even as wounds rapidly began to heal themselves. Hair once more grabbed to hold her head high while her limbs were released from their binds.
She found herself shoved to the ground, landing atop a set of ragged clothing and a sword. Sluggishly and without word or order she slowly stood, swaying slightly but only for a moment. The clothes were adored, clinging to her far too slender self. Sword strapped into position.
As the tall man turned she followed in step after him. Without a word and limbs loose at her side. A shadow in his step.
..Silent ...
His steps echoed in the halls when hers did not. As if he were there alone. Out of the blue he raised a hand and pointed a single finger to a nearby slave who was walking her way down the hall ahead, a jug of water between her hands.
Silence would be broken without warning by the jug of water hit the ground, shattering and spilling it's liquid. The wave washed up on the youth's feet as the sister slave's body landed to the ground. Lifeless. A few feet away her head would land in a sickly splat. There was nothing within those eyes for what she had done on the silent command. Sword swashed the air a single time to dismiss the blood from the freshly honed blade. A flick of the wrist sent the blade singing back into it's home.
The man simply walked on by with an approved smirk nestled on his lips. As he passed the youth turned in step and simply took step after him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When one's life is bound for years upon years upon nothing but pain and suffering, mentally shattered by those who wish nothing more then to use and dispose of you... Was there a return from that?
One could only hope to shed such dark, tight shackles..
Sleep was far from easy to accept when wounds of old were being forced into full bloom, spilling blood as if it were nothing more then water falling from an overfilled hold. From top to bottom scars were reopened, made into new so that they could be healed. Slave scars disappearing without trace under the Light Workings of the Matilda. Zenny's skilled hands worked feverishly to chase the Sister's work.
Her back was the worse of the case. She couldn't admit it without shame that she had been afraid of the procedure to rid herself of her past and the scars that came with it. Even if she couldn't get rid of the ones that worked her memory at least she could the ones that were more visible to the eyes around her.
She never seen her body whole. She wasn't sure to expect when she woke. If she woke. She would wake, right? She was in capable hands, as Mayu had said. She left herself to those capable hands, hoping that she would wake without much trouble to those attempted to aid her.
But her and hope..
..didn't exactly seem to mix well...
I walk away from the soundless room
Windless night, moonlight melts
My ghostly shadow to the lukewarm gloom
Nightly dance of bleeding swords
Reminds me that I still live
I will burn my dread
I once ran away from the god of fear
And he chained me to despair
Burn my dread
I'll break the chain
And run till I see the sunlight again
I'll lift my face and run to the sunlight
Voiceless town, tapping feet
I clench my fists in pockets tight
Far in mist a tower awaits
Like a merciless tomb, devouring moonlight
Clockwork maze end unknown
In frozen time a staircase stands
Shadows crawl on bloodstained floor
I rush straight ahead with a sword in hands
Cold touch of my trembling gun
I close my eyes to hear you breathe
I will burn my dread
This time I'll grapple down that god of fear
And throw him into hell's fire
Burn my dread
I'll shrug the pain
And run till I see the sunlight again
Oh I will run burning all regret and dread
And I will face the sun with pride of the living
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night moon hanged high in the sky, casting looming shadows over a dark setting. A castle of sorts by the structure and it's halls filled with many a people. Within the mass of what could of been a courtyard there was a small x-structure which a tiny frame was held to by means of tightened rope and shackles. The sound of cracking whip meeting flesh broke the night air. It was no ordinary whip that would tear through flesh in such a gory mess. The kiss of metal to young flesh sent crimson to splash the air and fall to the ground below. Not just the back would the bladed whip kiss but coil to other parts to the hanging form. Arms, chest, stomach.. Any place it could curl to once unleashed it did.
On the handle end of the whip stood a towering figure, close to seven feet. Chiseled features half clouded by silvery hair. A beautiful man if there ever was if it were. Blue eyes were colder then any ice could be and the sinister smirk that displayed on his thin lips showed that he enjoyed the task at hand.
The crack whipped and a cry spilled into the night finally. Female broken into submission. The blank look haunting green eyes nearly eclipsed the frailty of such a youth. Some horrors forever shattered her mind stated quite clearly in the frightening shimmer that burned deep within her gaze. Hair fell in snarl of dirty locks around fragile features. Milky flesh smudged with dirt, blood, and callous bruises that cover nearly every inch of her body.
Suddenly the whip ceased and the youth slumped, held only by the bindings that kept her so close to the wooden structure. Blood spilled from her freely and pain howled over her entire being. It was there she was left...
Morning crept forth and the first spray of light met the pallid figure that seemed for the most part unconscious. Fingers coiled suddenly to dark, vital caked strains and forced the youth's head back more. Blood filled her mouth. Disgusting and old in taste it made her choke as it overfilled and seeped down from the corner of her lips. A hand stroked sharply across her cheek soundly for daring cough up such a precious gift as the blood. Head leaned to the side she remained in the submissive position even as wounds rapidly began to heal themselves. Hair once more grabbed to hold her head high while her limbs were released from their binds.
She found herself shoved to the ground, landing atop a set of ragged clothing and a sword. Sluggishly and without word or order she slowly stood, swaying slightly but only for a moment. The clothes were adored, clinging to her far too slender self. Sword strapped into position.
As the tall man turned she followed in step after him. Without a word and limbs loose at her side. A shadow in his step.
..Silent ...
His steps echoed in the halls when hers did not. As if he were there alone. Out of the blue he raised a hand and pointed a single finger to a nearby slave who was walking her way down the hall ahead, a jug of water between her hands.
Silence would be broken without warning by the jug of water hit the ground, shattering and spilling it's liquid. The wave washed up on the youth's feet as the sister slave's body landed to the ground. Lifeless. A few feet away her head would land in a sickly splat. There was nothing within those eyes for what she had done on the silent command. Sword swashed the air a single time to dismiss the blood from the freshly honed blade. A flick of the wrist sent the blade singing back into it's home.
The man simply walked on by with an approved smirk nestled on his lips. As he passed the youth turned in step and simply took step after him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When one's life is bound for years upon years upon nothing but pain and suffering, mentally shattered by those who wish nothing more then to use and dispose of you... Was there a return from that?
One could only hope to shed such dark, tight shackles..
Sleep was far from easy to accept when wounds of old were being forced into full bloom, spilling blood as if it were nothing more then water falling from an overfilled hold. From top to bottom scars were reopened, made into new so that they could be healed. Slave scars disappearing without trace under the Light Workings of the Matilda. Zenny's skilled hands worked feverishly to chase the Sister's work.
Her back was the worse of the case. She couldn't admit it without shame that she had been afraid of the procedure to rid herself of her past and the scars that came with it. Even if she couldn't get rid of the ones that worked her memory at least she could the ones that were more visible to the eyes around her.
She never seen her body whole. She wasn't sure to expect when she woke. If she woke. She would wake, right? She was in capable hands, as Mayu had said. She left herself to those capable hands, hoping that she would wake without much trouble to those attempted to aid her.
But her and hope..
..didn't exactly seem to mix well...