Oct 2018
The field was vast. Empty except for a man and the thing he was speaking with.
The man was middle-aged, he wore a black suit and a thin red tie. He sat in a wheelchair. He was handsome, in a careless sort of way. His unruly black hair was streaked with grey. His Hazel eyes breathed a dull sort of fury.
The thing standing before him wore a familiar face.
"Hello old friend," the thing said
"Vincent," the man nodded
A storm of Mana danced around the two
mixing with the wind and
the air
small spirits were summoned
into the storm
they whispered in
ether tongues
as they surrendered to
the storms current
The thing had long pale hair and wore the face of Vincent Sena, an old friend.
He was beautiful, with feminine features. His eyes were the color of glaciers: cold and violent.
"I'm glad you could make it, Isaak."
The thing wore a slight mocking smile.
"It must have been difficult, in your condition."
Isaak shrugged, "I manage. It's been a long time, Vincent."
"People call me Muun now."
"Muun. I'm gonna **** you," Isaak's eyes were a feral dog's. "I'm going to peel off that face you're wearing and shove it down your throat." His tone was casual.
Muun's eyes resigned to bitterness, "let's begin then"
Muun raised his hand and his finger grew sharp and violent.
He ****** it into Isaak's head.
...
I've had trouble sleeping lately,
Oh?
Yeah just the past few weeks
Yeah I have something I take to help me sleep
Whatcha got?
Here, the man grabs a bottle full of purple pills and hands him a handful,
I'd only take two at a time
....
Drunk taking Tylenol
for headaches and nothing really
The batteries are running dry
The dust blanketed,
ruins in the making
and rust
and dried blood
and you're all alone
You'll die alone
then nothing
...
/Vincent was always faster, stronger. Isaak held his own, though./
Young Isaak heard his master speaking and grew colder.
...
Burrowing
A pale finger
searching his thoughts,
picking at his mind
Burrowing
Flashes of light,
a dull headache growing
sharper
Burrowing
Find it
Find the river
Follow the current
Twisting, things with razor teeth swimming in it
Keep going
There
It empties into the ocean
Sunlight
...
Vincent lay dead
Muun was breathed out
with Vincent's last heartbeat
The stink of him laying heavy in the swirl of Mana
Isaak burned that shell
and watched the fire with cold eyes
The man was middle-aged, he wore a black suit and a thin red tie. He sat in a wheelchair. He was handsome, in a careless sort of way. His unruly black hair was streaked with grey. His Hazel eyes breathed a dull sort of fury.
The thing standing before him wore a familiar face.
"Hello old friend," the thing said
"Vincent," the man nodded
A storm of Mana danced around the two
mixing with the wind and
the air
small spirits were summoned
into the storm
they whispered in
ether tongues
as they surrendered to
the storms current
The thing had long pale hair and wore the face of Vincent Sena, an old friend.
He was beautiful, with feminine features. His eyes were the color of glaciers: cold and violent.
"I'm glad you could make it, Isaak."
The thing wore a slight mocking smile.
"It must have been difficult, in your condition."
Isaak shrugged, "I manage. It's been a long time, Vincent."
"People call me Muun now."
"Muun. I'm gonna **** you," Isaak's eyes were a feral dog's. "I'm going to peel off that face you're wearing and shove it down your throat." His tone was casual.
Muun's eyes resigned to bitterness, "let's begin then"
Muun raised his hand and his finger grew sharp and violent.
He ****** it into Isaak's head.
...
I've had trouble sleeping lately,
Oh?
Yeah just the past few weeks
Yeah I have something I take to help me sleep
Whatcha got?
Here, the man grabs a bottle full of purple pills and hands him a handful,
I'd only take two at a time
....
Drunk taking Tylenol
for headaches and nothing really
The batteries are running dry
The dust blanketed,
ruins in the making
and rust
and dried blood
and you're all alone
You'll die alone
then nothing
...
/Vincent was always faster, stronger. Isaak held his own, though./
Young Isaak heard his master speaking and grew colder.
...
Burrowing
A pale finger
searching his thoughts,
picking at his mind
Burrowing
Flashes of light,
a dull headache growing
sharper
Burrowing
Find it
Find the river
Follow the current
Twisting, things with razor teeth swimming in it
Keep going
There
It empties into the ocean
Sunlight
...
Vincent lay dead
Muun was breathed out
with Vincent's last heartbeat
The stink of him laying heavy in the swirl of Mana
Isaak burned that shell
and watched the fire with cold eyes
