Music of he Night ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif) taintedsprings_ |
[02 Mar 2010|09:25am] |
Like stepping into a cave, some days the light turned to darkness with a single step. Those were dangerous, accidents happened; people died. She couldn’t care less if the mortals, or any other creatures, died, she was basically ambivalent. Like a shark, Selene was, for all intents and purposes, an opportunistic feeder. She preferred fresh blood, raiding a blood bank or traveling out-of-town for a run to the safe house nearby.
Selene refused to use animals as her source of nourishment. As the days changed to weeks, and then months, she couldn’t tell the difference, but she found herself more reclusive. She marked the passing of time with major historical events.
The number of friends, if you could call them that, could be numbered on one hand. Not in a coven, but on the run, and with her own agenda, she began to find herself lonely, a human condition rarely used to describe a death dealer.
There would be no solace in the blanket of the night. Aimlessly she wandered the streets, too restless to stay inside. Something inside her was urging her to move, to leave, to make a change.
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| Blood Rage taintedsprings_ |
[22 Oct 2009|12:28pm] |
He strode toward her, Selene didn’t move a muscle, eyes flickered blue ready to attack, even here. Now able to consume food, it allowed her yet another way to continue the ruse the identity she’d established in this small southern town.
“I’m Mr. Walker, Tom Baldwin’s replacement.” She could smell the lies, the man’s eyes twitched back-and-forth, he was terrified of her and this was a trap. Studying him careful, she listened to what he had to say. Tom was the only friend she had in this town. He was on point for developing a synthetic blood to help hide her identity. No longer welcome among her own kind, she could not use the clan’s reserves; she was left to her own devices. This turn of events, just confirmed her feelings, she was better alone. Her secret compromised, it was only logical that Tom was dead.
Arms crossed on the table, with an adeptness the man across her did not possess, she lied. Lied, while the rage filled her, a rage born of little things, of insignificant events, hate spawned from years of killing, from hunger. Her voice soothing, she spun her lies artfully. “Mr. Walker,” her words seductive, showing concern, “the room is filled with lycans, it is in your best interest for us to make leave, I fear your life maybe in danger.
( ”More” )
The blood rage took her, consumed her, completely.
Her torture knew no bounds, she ripped his throat out covering the signature vampire marks. Like discarded garbage, she threw him to the ground, all of the bones in his body shattering upon impact.
Finally, she moved to her usual vantage point watching the humans like busy little ants move beneath her. There were no patterns no logic, nothing redeming to her, at least not now, not in this state. She was dangerous.
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| Contact taintedsprings_ |
[18 Oct 2009|11:00pm] |
Private, reclusive, she’d become that once again. Selene found herself wondering the streets of Frankin Springs again, watching ... waiting.
The only sounds were those around her, if she ever made noise it was purposeful. Her sources suggested she check out the Underground in Atlanta; not the old now famous rail road. The commercialism had long over shadowed any historic value that once was there. The noun mortals called progress sickened Selene.
Instead she visited the Death-Dealer Underground, those who gave sanctuary to all. The lead, cold; but the trip wasn’t uneventful, she had others she could contact for information. The dark killer wasn’t completely sure if they were honest in the allegiance or simply terrified of the creature she’d evolved into something more when she drank from Alexander Corvinus.
As avid as she was in her distain of progress and technology; Selene was a hypocrite. She’d used the high-tech weapons to kill the Lycans, furnished her safe house with everything most mortals find of value, and more. This hypocrisy never crossed her consciousness nor would it in a million lifetimes.
Finally, she called Tom; the feeling, his voice on the answering machine gave rise to new emotions, urged her to hang up immediately. Instead she left a message.
“Tom, its Selene. Can you meet me at our usual spot?”
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| Dark Hunger taintedsprings_ |
[08 Oct 2008|06:00pm] |
Lids fluttered open, starring at the ceiling. Ice-orbs staring at the ceiling, with a blink, they were brown, like the shutter of a camera taking a picture the blink changed her being, controlling the darkness that day beneath. Selene was still evolving into something; or was she devolving death dealer were not the only words to describe her now.
Hunger, it filled her to hurt. Long ago she refused to feed on humans. Few survived the bite of this vampire, she knew others could turn humans at will; until she came to Franklin Springs, Selene had never seen one. Instinct kept them apart, yet here they all wandered freely, ignoring each other. This ‘monster’ knew when it was time to let a ‘walking meal’ go, or that is what it had been in the past. Other beings could provide a quick drink, quenching her thirst for a short time, but it wasn’t enough. The provider would upon waking remember nothing.
It had taken time, but she learned to … the word wouldn’t quite be appreciate, partake of the local options for ‘human’ food, but all it did was stave off the hunger; the hunger continued to hound her, at times she was ravenousness. The hunger came from deep inside and it was beginning to win.
Wandering around her bedroom, fine beads of sweat clinging to her toned body, she searched the top drawer of the antique bureau. The workmanship reminded her of a different age. Lovingly she ran her fingers over the hand-carved wood. The detail brought back memories of her father and his detail to structures he created. Talent could in even the oddest of circumstances bring death.
The card was crumpled, but the number still readable. Bare feed padded on the carpet as she walked back to the edge and sat. Her left hand picked the phone up out of its cradle. Long fingers dialed the unfamiliar number.
“Selene calling for Tom Baldwin,” Selene demanded simply to the happy receptionist. The enthusiasm on the other end was un-headed. The familiar music, Selene heard in elevators over the past fifty years played over the phone as she waited. Finally he came on the line. She wondered if he’d remembered her. This was hard for her. If she could breathe, she’d take a deep breath.
“Tom, I need help. Simply I need a blood supply, before I get out-of-control. Could we meet?” Honesty was dangerous, it might scare him away, but it was all she knew.
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| Something Wicked This Way Kills taintedsprings_ |
[08 Aug 2008|03:41pm] |
Darkness like the belly of a whale, settled on the small southern town. The fingers of the moon shadow attempted to light objects below causing a ghostly shimmer. From the apex of the building the obscure figure balancing effortlessly as she walked above the ants below. Busy ants, smelly ants running around in the ant farm that she found herself living. Unlike the real ants, creatures her discerning eyes could from this distance distinguish, the humans below her seemed to move without accomplishing anything.
( Someone Human Selene's Way Comes )
“Be careful,” unbidden the smile returned, and inside she chastised herself. When had she ever smiled at a human? The memories of her childhood hit her unaware almost forcing her backwards like an unseen foe slamming her in the chest.
She nodded, attempting to make a graceful exit.
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| Same Shift Different Day taintedsprings_ |
[21 May 2008|07:21pm] |
Time it had no meaning for her. Yes she was driven; she had a purpose as difficult as that task kept proving to be.
Selene missed the snow storm. It had nothing to do with the white beauty that wrapped its icy arms around the Georgia town, it was the quiet. The color of the sky didn’t matter, day or night the people stayed away. Much too fragile for the cold, they huddled in tiny homes, terrified of the unknown. The town smelled different, clean. The trees were larger versions of snow painted landscapes, the kind that reminds one of wonderful winters past. It was for those born there, and those immigrants from local towns and those of a greater distance in both time and space, a winter wonderland.
The following rain was even appreciated. She’d kept to the roof tops as the water rose; the weather had been her friend keeping the mortals away.
Weather wise things were back to normal. But there was an undercurrent, something she could feel in her gut.
The Death Dealer watched the sun begin to set. The red ran like lava through the horizon. She’d spent centuries unable to feel the warmth of the sun or appreciate the beauty as it left the sky. The blood that ran through her continued to change her; she didn’t have to feed on blood as often. It was making her stronger, enhanced things she hadn’t discovered yet, but also hated by her kind, even those who knew the truth about Viktor.
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| Silent Solitude taintedsprings_ |
[05 Apr 2008|10:22pm] |
Solitude, that’s how Selene liked things now. Silent white ornaments to a usually green landscape fell with a beauty that was lost on most beings, even the death dealer. Killer blue eyes, flickering to the left and then the right, as she traversed the treacherous, to mortals at least, terrain; surveyed her surroundings sizing up and making mental notes for later when humans would taint the smell. The drifts quelled the nauseating stench that most of her kind found as an aromatic dinner bell, to their greedy bellies. She’d never been like the others of her species; now she her differences were more than her likes and dislikes, it was in her blood, as were the memories.
With cat-like prowess she navigated around the sleepy little town, amused at the controversy over the wetness falling like a slowly heavenly vomit, replacing everything in its wake. How anyone could get so worked up over frozen rain, she couldn’t imagine, but in her travels she’d met many creatures beyond imaginings. Not that this was of great concern, it was just the things were.
To the left and right buildings took on the shape of long-dead dinosaurs, rising in quiet mutiny, as if they would spring to lift at any moment. Vehicles lining the streets resembling monstrous snakes lie in wait to devour their terrain masters, stuck in white drifts.
With any luck this was the onset of another ice age. Not that she cared about the cattle that others considered food, her search was more about the balance of power.
Her tongue flickered over her lips. Selene was hungry, in fact she was quiet ravenous.
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