The Moon Fever had subsided leaving her quiet and tranquil, ignoring the dull empty void of her spirit and the blissful ache of limbs. Her body stretched languidly before she dressed, the metallic coppery taste in her mouth gave her an idea of what she had done and where she had been during the prior evenings, but she found that she didn?t care any longer.
Annike stood with a newly regained pride, elegance that near seemed regal. So many nights had she danced and skirted over the place and sensation of being Alpha but never had acted the part. It was about time she stuck to the role. Time and time again had she mentally chided herself over the notion but this time ? was a time for change.
Room 23 was deserted if only to gather some items from the camp. It seemed reasonable to take up the offer after all. To get away from it all? get away from everyone. The dress of white worn on her frame fit to curves in a nature of subtle sensuality, flowing in loose fabric at her legs, moving like ocean foaming ripples of material as she moved. She was heading back to the camp as she mused over her thoughts. There was a weary exhaustion that finally had subsided but still she could not feel like she had become an angel of pain and anguish to any she came across. Hurting so many more and more as time went on, and she was starting to feel less and less. Emotions locked away to protect her own heart. She had been hurt far too many times in the past and she had quite enough of it.
The calmness of the air around the gypsy camp was far too calm. Too quiet. Senses rose again even when the Beast was exhausted. Call it Woman?s Intuition or Healer?s Instinct or something all together unnatural within Annike that made her aware that something was not right. No song of birds in those afternoon hours?but what there was? was the smell of burning ash and blood. The taint of Death clung to her tongue like a vicious memory.
?Lucian??
Panic set in as their names went through her head. Esme, Eloise. All the others as their faces flashed through her mind. She ran then, tattooed fingers curling into fists as she ran blindly until she was in the camp.
The camp was nothing more then a burnt shell of what it used to be. Tattooed hands covered her eyes briefly as that wall she kept around her heart and her emotions all but shattered into a thousand pieces as she choked back that wail of anguish. Blood every where. It coated the forest floor staining the grass an awful shade of murky green that had been painted with far too many splashes of life blood. The carnage didn?t end there? poles from the tent were used as devices to crucify many of the gypsies? and one so familiar. Esme amongst them all, heart carved out of her chest and hanging there impaled with stakes upon the metal poles.
Bare feet sunk into the grass, moving silently even as the grass seemed to suck at her feet, leaving blood footprints in her withdraw as she plunged deeper into her own personal vision of hell. She found Eloise there or what once had been Eloise? broken backed, broken all together like a useless doll. Her limbs a mangled destruction and with her beheaded figure laying sprawled out on the back of the cart she looked like nothing worse then a sacrifice for a nightmare landscape.
The scene of it was horrible, the scent of it far worse to taint and torment her senses. So much blood and smoke it near burned her throat and her eyes as that lifeblood symphony of music in her soul became absolute chaos. A corrupted elegy.
Eyes closed before she regained her determination to plunge onward through the chaos, Ghost lit depths of blue near blind to seeing the blood that splattered the burnt remains of the camp. She had to find Lucian. A wariness claimed her spirit as she drew one of Lucian?s swords from the hidden place he kept them, disturbed by the fact that he did not have them in his possession.
Annike?s eyes blazed like the hottest portion of the flame. Blue fire that near seemed the holy fire of justice as a hiss of words tormented her ears.
?Looking for this??
She twisted on her heel, tattooed hands death white on the hilts of the twin blades as her eyes narrowed upon the vision of that glowing bottle of a captured soul. Glowing crimson and ebony against the glass? Blood and Darkness? the taint of demon soul against a shadow walker?s spirit. She knew it well enough as Lucian?s soul.
Annike stood with a newly regained pride, elegance that near seemed regal. So many nights had she danced and skirted over the place and sensation of being Alpha but never had acted the part. It was about time she stuck to the role. Time and time again had she mentally chided herself over the notion but this time ? was a time for change.
Room 23 was deserted if only to gather some items from the camp. It seemed reasonable to take up the offer after all. To get away from it all? get away from everyone. The dress of white worn on her frame fit to curves in a nature of subtle sensuality, flowing in loose fabric at her legs, moving like ocean foaming ripples of material as she moved. She was heading back to the camp as she mused over her thoughts. There was a weary exhaustion that finally had subsided but still she could not feel like she had become an angel of pain and anguish to any she came across. Hurting so many more and more as time went on, and she was starting to feel less and less. Emotions locked away to protect her own heart. She had been hurt far too many times in the past and she had quite enough of it.
The calmness of the air around the gypsy camp was far too calm. Too quiet. Senses rose again even when the Beast was exhausted. Call it Woman?s Intuition or Healer?s Instinct or something all together unnatural within Annike that made her aware that something was not right. No song of birds in those afternoon hours?but what there was? was the smell of burning ash and blood. The taint of Death clung to her tongue like a vicious memory.
?Lucian??
Panic set in as their names went through her head. Esme, Eloise. All the others as their faces flashed through her mind. She ran then, tattooed fingers curling into fists as she ran blindly until she was in the camp.
The camp was nothing more then a burnt shell of what it used to be. Tattooed hands covered her eyes briefly as that wall she kept around her heart and her emotions all but shattered into a thousand pieces as she choked back that wail of anguish. Blood every where. It coated the forest floor staining the grass an awful shade of murky green that had been painted with far too many splashes of life blood. The carnage didn?t end there? poles from the tent were used as devices to crucify many of the gypsies? and one so familiar. Esme amongst them all, heart carved out of her chest and hanging there impaled with stakes upon the metal poles.
Bare feet sunk into the grass, moving silently even as the grass seemed to suck at her feet, leaving blood footprints in her withdraw as she plunged deeper into her own personal vision of hell. She found Eloise there or what once had been Eloise? broken backed, broken all together like a useless doll. Her limbs a mangled destruction and with her beheaded figure laying sprawled out on the back of the cart she looked like nothing worse then a sacrifice for a nightmare landscape.
The scene of it was horrible, the scent of it far worse to taint and torment her senses. So much blood and smoke it near burned her throat and her eyes as that lifeblood symphony of music in her soul became absolute chaos. A corrupted elegy.
Eyes closed before she regained her determination to plunge onward through the chaos, Ghost lit depths of blue near blind to seeing the blood that splattered the burnt remains of the camp. She had to find Lucian. A wariness claimed her spirit as she drew one of Lucian?s swords from the hidden place he kept them, disturbed by the fact that he did not have them in his possession.
Annike?s eyes blazed like the hottest portion of the flame. Blue fire that near seemed the holy fire of justice as a hiss of words tormented her ears.
?Looking for this??
She twisted on her heel, tattooed hands death white on the hilts of the twin blades as her eyes narrowed upon the vision of that glowing bottle of a captured soul. Glowing crimson and ebony against the glass? Blood and Darkness? the taint of demon soul against a shadow walker?s spirit. She knew it well enough as Lucian?s soul.