|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Mar 24, 2005 8:55 am
[Blood on My Hands]
I woke, retching, to the overwhelming metallic smell of blood.
My movements slow and clumsy, as if I was someone else, I moved my head so that my hands swam into my blurry field of vision. I knew, like I often knew things I shouldn't, that they would be coated in the crimson substance that meant death.
When I woke for the second time, I was back in my attic bedroom staring at the tapestry that hung on the ceiling over my bed. Elephants marching around in a circle in alternation with peacocks. All of it rendered in a red that made the pit of my stomach sink uncomfortably.
As details flooded came in as flashes, single frames frozen in time, it was difficult to tell whether it had been a dream or a vision. It felt so real, so impossibly vivid. It almost seemed too real to be anything but an actual event.
Rough concrete walls, echoing with cruel laughter. Blurry rays of light pushing into a dark space through a grimey window. Isolated pieces of furniture, bent or broken, and throwing shadows that seemed to crawl in the dim light. A shadow in the corner.
It was tough to tell at times, what was real and what was vision. Like the visions were beginning to bleed into my sense of self. It wasn't always like this.
In the beginning it was easy to tell reality from the visions of what might be. The visions felt like movies, overlayed on the reality that is my life. Lately, however, they've been getting worse. Not only are the visions hard to seperate from reality, they've begin to hijack my body. While in the grips of a strong vision, I regularly black out and find myself somewhere different at the end than at the beginning.
I feel like I'm constantly asleep, passing from dream to dream. At this point, nothing honestly seems real.
Which is why, when I finally looked down from the tapestry on the ceiling to my hands - I wasn't surprised to find them still coated in blood.
I was suprised later when the blood washed off in the sink, staining the white porcelain a sick pink color. Visions can't be washed off with water.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2005 7:29 am
[Dreaming of You]
The dreams have started again, but I have to admit I'm no longer sure of whether they're dreams or not.
They come in sets of three, a number I have come to fear. I see it everywhere now. Three dandelions in the back yard, three cars parked on my block. I'm starting to wonder if I've lost my tenuous grip on reality. The night in between repetitions is my only sign I haven't completely lapsed into insanity.
I believe the bracelet is behind this. It has set down roots in my soul and it is taking over, like some sort of poisonous parisitic vine. I can see it, the specks of amber floating in my veins - poisoning me. I wonder daily how long it will take for it to consume me, body and soul. And will I have any inkling that its conquest is imminent?
I tried to remove it, but it looks like I would have to give up my hand to have any chance of getting rid of the abomination. When I tried to slide it off, it just got smaller and smaller until it pinched painfully into my skin.
Another question that puzzles me - who is this woman who appears before my window? Why does she stare at me so intently, but speak not a word?
And above all, why does she feel so familiar? If I could move while she was there, I feel as if I could run into her arms and everything would suddenly be ok. Like she could block out the world for me.
Her eyes are a blinding amber, so I can't look directly at them. Her hair is long, the gentle waves reaching down to her ankles. I can make out no other details with the moonlight streaming in at her back.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2005 7:36 am
[As I Slowly Unravel]
I spotted some blood on the wall near the door to Chandra's bedroom.
A handprint.
I tried to rub it out with my sleeve, but the fresh blood just smeared over the light colored wall making a more noticable mess.
Why? Why does the blood haunt me so?
I eventually went and got a sponge to remove the stain I had left on the wall, but not before Chandra and Zayne woke up. I had to tell them that the blood was my own from where I had cut myself. I'm not sure they believed me.
I am paranoid that they will find me out. That I will be exposed for whatever it is I have become. I have changed so much on the inside, become so warped from my original self, that I feel they must be able to see it on the outside.
Maybe they have, but haven't said anything.
Perhaps they are conspiring behind my back.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 25, 2005 9:12 am
[Rebirth]
My children are so troublesome, and yet I cannot blame them for the choices they have made - I am in fact proud of them, in a way only a mother can be. I realize that I may be the only person who still loves my daughters after the centuries I have allowed them their free reign - I am not even sure if they love eachother - but I have no choice. It was my body that gave them form, my breath that gave them life, and my blood that gave them power.
I still am not sure why they attempted to lock me away for eternity and it hurts to suspect they do not love and respect me the way they should.
They did, however, manage to find both a necromancer capable of freeing me and a seer capable of containing me - neither one a small feat. I am not yet sure if this was planned or simply coincidence. Power does seek power, after all. I believe that Mictecacihuatl may suspect my presence back on this plane, but I cannot be sure. She obviously does not suspect that the woman seer is one of my descendants, one of the far flung few who has inherited a small piece of my soul.
It is rather impressive, the size of the powers she has manifested, but it threatens her sanity and ultimately her life. They came on late, forcefully and all at once, something her psyche was not prepared for. According to her memories, she does not even know her true parents - which means she was never warned of her possibilities. My occupation may either cure her or kill her, allthough as one of my children I do hope the former.
For now I am attempting to dampen the storm of futures assaulting the woman - we are at a crossing point, a moment of decision - and assisting my daughters. I wish to see what their end goal is for the girl Chandra.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2005 1:10 pm
[Mother Knows Best]
I have been observing the necromancer girl, Chandra, and I have become worried about the liberties my daughters have granted her. She is not, as I at first believed, a mortal who found the dark arts through study. She is actually herself one of the Dead, brought back to life for some purpose of my daughters.
Unless her soul is banished properly, she is now essentially immortal. A life I do not envy, as she will never truly be able to live - the price one pays to be unable to die. Although, she could easily be destroyed by the key my children have seen fit to allow her to bond with. I realize that this piece of antiquity is the reason for my release from the prison I was banished to, but I can't help but feel a sense of maternal concern for the girl.
I am even more concerned because I believe she is able to see something of the confucion going on inside me. Kam, while fractured beyond repair by my possession, has occasionally been able to wrest control of this body from me. During these times I am blind to what she does, but I believe she may have spoken to Chandra.
If she has been able to convey any information of note, I worry for my position here. Her powers seem unbounded at this point. She has no empathy, no boundaries. She is almost worse than I no her to have been before her Death. I may need to neutralize her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2005 1:38 pm
[Drowning Slowly]
This page is written in a scrawling, halted script. As if perhaps the writer was not at their best.
I am forced to look out of my eyes onto a horrific world that shifts unsettlingly. If I could let it all go, I would. I cannot. I cannot even close my eyes to get a moment of respite. Even when they close I can still see the scenes inside the eyelids, playing endlessly. I have come to yearn for the moments of black that buffer possible futures from one another. Only in that millisecond am I free.
Someone is in my mind. I wish I could tell someone, but I have no control over my words. I can only spill the secrets the visions pour inside me, but I have no frame in which to place them - so I believe they mean nothing.
Crumbling walls, the smell of death, beautiful silk brocade wall hangings, roses, and dark, dusty corners.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2005 7:52 pm
[My Dear Daughters]
Ah, my dear daughters have finally arrived at the only possible solution to the odd events of the past month, she thought as she turned.
She smiled as her eyes met Mictecacihuatl's and she set down the wooden spoon she had been using on the bench behind her. Wiping her hands on the frilly white apron adorning her front, she turned her head so she could meet Xochiquetzal's eyes as well.
"I am surprised and a bit disappointed to find the two of you have managed to find a way to be corporeal at the same time in my absence. You are tainting the true seasons. This was not my original intention."
In the silence that followed her words, Mictecacihuatl and Xochiquetzal shared a long look. When they finaly broke their stare, Mictecaihuatl spoke coldly.
"Mother," she nodded her head slightly in a guesture of respect, "Welcome back."
Mictecacihuatl seemed disinclined to speak further, so Xochiquetzal took over. Standing from where she had been lounging on a stool pulled up to the island in the middle of the kitchen, she adjusted the tiny veils which passed for clothes.
"Mother," she started, also inclining her head slightly, "What are you doing here? You were banished and we were led to believe you would be unable to return."
"It is good to see you as well, children." She said mildly, pushing a piece of almost white hair behind one ear. "Since it appears we are dispensing with formalities, I was indeed banished," she continued with a scathing look at Xochiquetzal. "I would have been unable to return on my own, since as you both know, the vast majority of my power was passed on in the making of the two of you."
Mictecacihuatl looked sideways to avoid her mother's eyes, and pulled a stool out from the island with a guesture for her mother to seat herself. Xochiquetzal simply scowled in her direction.
"Yes, we do know. The Summer was given to me and Winter to Mictecacihuatl. You kept only your ability to look ahead, because you feared it would unbalance us, making one of the seasons superior to the other."
Xochiquetzal pouted, crossing her arms across her ample chest. She clearly still believed she should have been given the power to see what was coming.
"That is correct," she said mildly, as she graciously took the seat offered to her. "I am beginning to wonder, however, whether I made a mistake in making the two of you."
Xochiquetzal colored furiously, but said nothing - and shot another poisonous glance in Mictecaichuatl's direction. Mictecacihuatl did not ignore her sister's unspoken plea this time.
"It is too late for such regrets. We are here and you no longer have the power to unmake us. Why do you inhabit the mortal woman? I assume you are the one who assisted Chandra in leaving the Final Stage."
With a smug smile, she looked at her eldest daughter.
"Ah yes, the necromancer. I did indeed assist Chandra in escaping the Final Stage. You sent her in unprepared for the shock."
Xochiquetzal could not longer contain herself at this mild insult and she yelled, spitting as she spoke. Mictecacihuatl looked disgusted at her sister's clear lack of self-control, but held her own tongue.
"We didn't send that little brat anywhere. She opened the door herself, without our guidance. If we had your gift-"
Xochiquetzal sputtered to an abrupt stop as her mother raised on hand in the air.
"Her mother assisted her," she said carefully, having just worked it out. "She made the sacrifice, knowing that would put events into motion. The mortal saw well, but not far," she finished, almost to herself.
Lowering her hand, but retaining the floor - she continued to speak.
"And while I do not have the ability to unmake the two of you, the Key does."
This announcement was met with stunned silence from both Mictecacihuatl and Xochiquetzal. They had apparently not considered this possibility.
Their mother continued after letting that revelation sink in.
"This mortal cannot contain me much longer. I had hoped to heal her, to at least save her mind - but this task has become impossible. She has been shattered by the visions which accompany inheriting part of myself. I will remain here until the end, but then - " she paused, closing her eyes momentarily, "I will leave the two of you for the last time. I have added much of my knowledge to The Book of the Dead, so Chandra may learn of my intentions in making the two of you."
"I thought you loved us, Mother."
Turning away from her daughters, she spoke softly.
"I was wrong to believe you could remain uncorrupted by the powers invested in you. You are, after all, my daughters."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 6:58 pm
Kam is Dead. Long Live Kam.
Soon to be converted to the Withington Manor.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
