My brown leather boots slid softly together as I shifted my crossed feet on the table. Behind me and slightly to my left the fire crackled in soft ambivalent recollection. The wooden chair groaned in complaint as I shifted my weight against the oak carved table. Beneath my feet were the stained remains of many alcoholic drinks to many customers before me. Each darkly curved circle left it's mark: the singed carvings of some one's wasted life. The thought made the corner of my mouth twitch into a malicious smile. Exhaling a labored breath, I cocked my eyebrows, and gently swirled my sharp drink in the dusty glass. Intent as I was, no image seemed to escape my gaze, and yet, this was not my focus. Behind the cold vacant stare stood many worlds waiting to be explored- systematically cross examined, no corner was left before my searching eyes. I let my eyelids fall ruefully. Quieting my thoughts I took a long swig from the pungent liquor in my dark hands. This was my quiet moment. They came so few and far between these days. I laughed to myself.
'My mind should be plagued by screams, cries for mercy, inner pain. And yet, the only thing that could possess my mind is...her.' I lazily rolled my eyes opened, playing with the light reflected in the red liquid sloshing melodically at my command.
"Then again... I've never regretted the death of any of my vicitims. I guess I'm not one of those sentimental types," the back of my throat burned as the warm alcohol tumbled against it, warming my insides. As I let myself become emersed in the masochistic pleasure of the drink, those amber eyes drifted their way into my mind again. Anger, frustration, and bitter determination washed over me. My vision narrowed. I could feel the glass begin to give under the pressure of my fist. I exhaled forcibly and set the cup down releasing my will. From my peripheral vision I watched the fat and seedy servant scuttle up, take my cup, bow sniveling, and rush back again. I withdrew my dagger, following my own reflection in the blades mirrored depths. Blue ice stared back at me. I admired the craftsmenship of the curved blade sliding across the flesh of my hand. Like a child delighting over the acquisiton of a prized toy, a grinned deceitfully to myself.
"Lady Pyrona, you will be mine."
 Arasenia · Tue Oct 09, 2007 @ 05:34am · 0 Comments |
