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 Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 6:59 pm
The story of Riyo's life before the meeting. Before the forest. Before a loss of sanity.
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 7:10 pm
The night it happened, there was a harvest moon.
The moon as red as the life force that runs through our veins... A baby cries. A town gasps. Hate is born. A boy is forced to become a man as he realizes just what he's done. There were no greetings for her. No smiles to welcome her to the cruel world. Only glares and faces full of disgust.
Why?
Why not finish off the damned as they come into the world?
The simple answer:
Because the world is much less merciful than the fables whispered into the ears of the ignorant children who build their hopes and dreams upon them.
Perhaps, in this way, she was lucky. To not hear those stories. To not have her dreams crumble from under her little feet. But either way, the world of the child would shatter. It was fate. It was destiny.
It was beautiful.
The tragedy so perfect in every detail.
Each little word, note, and scene leading up to the grand finale.
For in this, our cruel and ironic world, man is destined to create monsters...
Whilst monsters are destined to destroy their creators.
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 8:11 pm
The night Riyo was born was what her village considered the beginning of the end. It was a tiny village of cat people. No houses, but huts. No real commerce, but everyone knew and cared for each other. Faces were friendly. Cares were free. The perfect place to raise children.
Right?
When the man no one knew walked into their village, the eyes were upon him. Though, they grew to respect him as time passed. He thought he had gotten past it. The dirty little secret that had kept him from starting a life all this time. This place would be different. This place would accept him. So then, why didn't he reveal it to them? A better question is, would you? To find a place that looks upon you with soft eyes and open hearts. Would you really want to give that up all for a feeling of complete security? You cannot have it both ways!
And so, he continued on, hiding the filth under a simple disguise. He found a woman. A beautiful woman whose hair glistened enough to compete with the sun. And her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes as deep as the ocean and as stunning as a starry night sky. A diamond in the rough. The villages prized treasure. Dare he? Dare he, a diseased-ridden animal, be so selfish as to fall in love with such a jewel... And risk dulling it?
He dared.
Desires. A mans ultimate weakness. It shuns any reason, just so satisfaction can be found. No matter how brief. They fell in love. He, with her beauty. Her, with his charm and the aura of mystery that surrounded him. By this time, he'd forgotten. Forgotten the past. Forgotten the legend. Forgotten just where he stood in the beginning and the end.
He'd soon be reminded.
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 8:37 pm
His horrors soon resurfaced as he discovered she was with child. He'd let himself go. Let himself indulge in the feeling of acceptance. He had been warned of this many, many times before. Though, what child actually listens to their parents? It would be too simple to just accept that they knew better; that they'd gone through the same exact thing. That is how life goes, though. A person is born, they make the same mistakes over and over again...
Then they die.
For months, he tried to convince himself that everything would be fine. The legend had been long forgotten! These people loved him! And most of all, it would be her child. Lies to ease the conscious mind, even though the subconscious will never let you forget.
Then that night came.
The night of the harvest moon.
The town was excited. It was to be a special night, being blessed with a new face in the little village with little cares. Though he did not share in their rejoice. Of course, the father is expected to be nervous... But he was nervous for all the wrong reasons.
Then, amongst the cheers, the sound of a baby could be heard. It was followed by a gasp, and silence swept over the village. The man's heart sank. He knew now. The beautiful world he'd made out of lies was about to crush him. He rushed into the hut, eyes automatically burning into his very being. "You've doomed us all!" They shouted.
And there it was.
Just as the security ended, his disguise was torn apart. The spell that had been in place to hide his true form disappeared. Exposed from all sides. The woman he loved looked at him as if he'd just turned into a monster.
Without another thought, he ran. He ran as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. His eyes filled with red tears. All at once he realized how foolish he had been. How his father had been more than right. How all of this could've been prevented... And just how unfair the world was.
"You've seen the worst of me
with the hope they'd understand.
No, they know you're just a boy.
So grow up and be a man..."
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 10:00 pm
The child, however, would not be fed the same lies... But would ultimately come to the same conclusion of her missing father. A baby girl. With the same glistening blonde hair as her mother. Incidentally the only thing she inherited from her.
The poor child.
Not only was she shunned by the village around her, but denied the warmth and compassion of a family. For her, family just meant 'stay quiet and she won't hit you again'.
Her mother's beauty was now but a memory. Her hair was ragged, and it seemed that even her eyes had dulled. Everything. Everything was the child's fault.
Since she was old enough to walk, her presence was greeted with hateful glares, dirt, and sometimes even rocks. The children of the village fed off their parents strong hatred. And thus, the child grew without knowing the pleasantries of friendship and kind eyes. She could only watch from afar. Imagine how... Nice things such as that must be.
Her only friend, if you could consider it one, was a doll. A ragged doll in the shape of a cat that her father had made while imagining how her birth would turn out. There were times that her mother considered snatching it right out of her hands, but couldn't help remembering the man she once called 'lover', and how sweet their love had been. They were good memories, and about all she had left tying her to the world of the sane.
Nevertheless, the mother beat the child. Sometimes even being so harsh as to threaten her with a knife. She'd cut her a few times. People saw this. But they weren't about to ask her to stop. It was only a monster, after all. It had no feelings like they did. Sure. They could've killed it as an infant. But the village needed a good punching bag. No civilization is perfect, after all. Everyone needs to be able to look upon someone and realize how glad they are to not be them.
The 13th black cat. Two bad omens in a row. Legend spoke of it, and people were expected to fear it. Most of them didn't even know why it was to be feared, but simply accepting that it was. Had they done a little research, they would've realized.
They were digging their own graves.
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Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 4:18 pm
"What is
This that I feel?
And what is this that I fear?"
It was close to the time of her fourth birthday when things began to change in the girl.
A man appeared. The girl wasn't sure where he came from, or just exactly what he was. But everytime she mentioned it to her withering Mother, it would usually result in another night of battering.
She didn't blame the man for that, though. The words he spoke to her were so sweet, so delightful to the ears. Each of his whispers brought her a smile. He spoke of making the village share the feelings that she had experienced all her life. To help them better understand just what they were doing to her. He called it revenge. The word rolled off of his tongue in a manner so delicate.
It was like a feeling of familiarity, as if it had been there all along, but so new to her. She could make them understand how she felt. How they were hurting her. How her mother was hurting her.
But then came the word hate. Hate them? Hate her mother? The word made her think of an igniting fire. She didn't want to think about it...
Yet, it lingered.
Everytime she passed someone and recieved that familiar glare, the thoughts she didn't want to have came right back up.
Hate wouldn't be such an alien feeling for much longer.
The man's words became stronger. More passionate. They filled her. They swallowed her. They gave her a feeling of satisfaction that left her begging for more.
A child.
With her mind open to such strong emotions.
Could only result in a catastrophe.
A beautiful catastrophe.
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Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 5:47 pm
"Here...
Youngster waiting here,
My dear.
To kill all of you,
To kill all of you..."
And then it came.
What everyone predicted, yet no one expected.
The man told her. He told her it was time. Time for them to experience the feelings he had spoken and she had known all this time.
Oh! Cruel fate!
How you damn even the most innocent of hearts!
Excitement. Fear. The combination of these feelings made her body shiver. The man said he'd show her the way. Guide her. Help her.
He did just that, in a sense.
As the night approached and she entered the hut, she was automatically confronted by her mother, who held her best friend in her crushing hand. The doll.
The mother had realized that, in order to be completely free of these chains that kept her a prisioner of the past, she would have to destroy all that reminded her of it. The doll, and the daughter. Sweet memories didn't matter anymore. What mattered was continuing on with what litte life she had left in her. And she most certainly couldn't do that with such a hinderence.
The mother threw the doll to the ground rather harshly and took ahold of her daughter by her ragged little shirt, holding her up against the slightly undstable walls and looking at her.
The girl could see it.
In those dull blue eyes, was the emotion she couldn't accept yet deny.
Hate. Pure hatred. As red and maliced as the eyes that beheld.
At that exact moment, as her mother slammed her to the floor and took that cold knife to the back of her neck, she realized it all. How everything the man told her pieced together. How she was to show them the excruciating pain bestowed upon her. So much made sense, and yet there were things that a child couldn't understand.
A feeling from deep in her gut emerged, then seemed to cover her very being. Just as her mother finished the last numeral, the child became the monster.
It was tragic.
It was cruel.
It was glorious.
It was 'beautiful'.
The child discovered just what makes us all tick. And though complete control was not hers, there was not much of a resistance. You rip out the heart, and you find just what lets us all live and die. But what interested her more was the liquid that spilt out of it. A color of passion. A color of lust. A color of grief and of beauty all in one. She barely noticed when her mother fell to the floor. The scarlet that covered her tiny hands and caressed her fingers. It was breathtaking.
Hearing the commotion, one of the townsfolk came to check on the mother and monster. He was greeted with a swift kick to the face and fingernails to the eyes. She ripped out the tongue so he could no longer scream and let him drown in his own red emotion.
As she left the hut, the desire for the red rushed through her being. Was this really her? Was she really painting this beautiful portrait with her now favorite color? It seemed as if it was just a dream. Men, woman, and even children joined in the chorus of agony and screams.
None could stop the inevitable.
All must reap what they had sewn.
Oh sweet little monster...
You stole the hearts of everyone that day.
As the grand finale ceased, and its Maestro snapped out of the transe, she turned to take a bow in the rising harvest moon, only to realize that her audience was dead.
Her stare seemed to continue on for ages. Watching. Waiting for a movement. But none came.
She walked through the corpses, her tiny feet splashing in the puddles of blood she had created. Blood she had spilt. She walked back to the little hut.
There her mother lay. Face down, lifeless.
Only then did the child begin shedding blood herself. Out of her crimson eyes leeked the only fitting substance.
Dear mother, when your child searches for love, will you smother them or starve them?
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Posted: Thu Mar 13, 2008 2:08 pm
The monster slept until the sun greeted her with a hot slap on the face. She woke up with a face so emotionless. They were still unmoving. The concept of death was a new aspect to her. The stench that arose from the fresh corpses was disgusting, and unlike the beauty she'd seen the night before. But that wasn't what struck her as she sat quietly next to her cold shell of a mother.
She had taken lives.
For the sole purpose of desire and self-gratification.
Oh... Cruel fate...
The monsters face turned to great remorse, as she realized everything she had lost last night, and the horror of what she had gained. She had learned her father's lessons in a much more frightening manner. And perhaps, if he had been there, he could have warned her that self-indulgence shouldn't be taken too far. Though, what child actually listens to their parents advice?
And there the man stood in the doorway. A soft, yet unsettling smile... She had never been able to look up and see his face... but now that she was able, it frightened her.
Those eyes. They were so cold.
"Come, monster. It's time to pause and reflect on what you've experienced. You will not receive comfort or compassion, but you will indeed get what you deserve."
Her crimson eyes observed for a moment, as her mind raced. There would be no more soft words. Only the emotions she'd brought to the surface and cut out of her victims. It was her time to deal with them.
Such a young age to bare the burden of the worlds suffering. To see through the eyes of an adult, where nothing is candy-coated and the blows are never softened.
This was the destiny of the 13th black cat.
For who else could see the beauty in pain, and the art in the suffering?
Who else could paint a portrait out of the ugliest of emotions and the sickest of dreams?
Who else could direct the symphony of blood curdling screams?
None but you, little monster.
None but you.
With her mind made, and her demons attached, she scooped up her only friend, and followed the man to the seclusion that awaited.
This was the time for silence and resolve.
And a chance to write the next Act.
The next time she woke up, the Maestro would preform an encore.
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Posted: Tue Apr 15, 2008 9:19 pm
The "Curse"
How it begun... how it ended... And how it will begin again..
During the times of olde, when animals flourished among all things and man was in his younger years, there was born a cat of all black fur.
In the eyes of the animals, the cat was a fright to behold. His pure black fur made him seem... Dark. Even if this wasn't the case, the fact that this creature could blend in with the shadows made the animals wary.
At this same time, a bird of pure black feathers was born. His wisdom of the unseen and unwanted made him less than accepted by the animals who had color and pigment to their fur and feathers.
Then, the two crossed paths. There was an automatic bond of sorts. Perhaps both felt the lonliness of the other... Or maybe it was their souls crying for someone to hear without ignorant ears.
Either way, the two became the best of friends. The raven, providing the knowlege. The cat, providing the protection for the dear raven. A truly rock-solid relationship, if you will.
Until one day, the cat left to hunt. All the animals had watched their relationship with fearful and somewhat envious eyes. This friendship couldn't be good for the rest of them. They were not to be trusted.
They were... Evil.
And so, the animals ganged up on the raven and, unfortunately, killed him in a way most brutal.
When the cat returned, his eyes couldn't believe... Couldn't understand...
That was when hate blossomed. Such a beautiful flower.. But so many thorns.
A demon saw this, and went to pick it.
He offered the black cat power. The power for revenge. The power to see that his friend's death would not be in vein. The words satisfied the cat to no end. To have power. To hurt all those who'd hurt him. He didn't even pay attention to the concequence.
"Your children will carry this power until your 13th generation is born. That is when history will repeat. And when the power will once again be mine."
If only the cat had thought. Thought about the wisdom of his dead friends words. He had spoken about these creatures. Warned the cat.
But alas, the cat had forgotten about the friend he was avenging. More focused on this new emotion.
He agreed. The deal was done. The cat turned into a monster... And took vengence on those who'd caused him pain.
When he realized what he did... He could only feel shame for his gluttony... His foolish behavior... And for the rest of his days... He felt pity for the generations to come.
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