MABEL
The darkness was an absolution – and she was contorted in shadow, in unending Stygian abyss, as she beckoned and wandered, as her hands toyed with a dagger. Flicked it back and forth between her palms, to feel the weight, the brush, the rush of its power and zeal. She wished she’d had it earlier – could’ve orchestrated more and more damage, before everything else came to fall.
The skeletal structures at least made her feel more alive, less consumed with the rage seething in each limb. Like fresh wounds, it sprung between the residual channels and chambers of her heart, through the pulsing, beating ichor beneath pale flesh; like a laceration, but not showing the lifeforce fading.
Evelyn was gone.
Revenge was necessary.
The notions and purpose were simple, but the actions themselves not. So she’d have to become stronger. Better. Capable of grappling with those daring to befoul, maim, rip, and tear. She’d pull them apart one by one by one, and the world would see who’d have the last laugh.
She pointed the dagger at a few fallen stones, flicking her wrist, permitting it to pierce, to sharpen, into the wake – watched as it bounced and bounded off, fell to the broken roads and streets. A rinse and repeat method started then, dulled only by the maneuvering clouds overhead, hiding the moon, but not her ambitions.
The skeletal structures at least made her feel more alive, less consumed with the rage seething in each limb. Like fresh wounds, it sprung between the residual channels and chambers of her heart, through the pulsing, beating ichor beneath pale flesh; like a laceration, but not showing the lifeforce fading.
Evelyn was gone.
Revenge was necessary.
The notions and purpose were simple, but the actions themselves not. So she’d have to become stronger. Better. Capable of grappling with those daring to befoul, maim, rip, and tear. She’d pull them apart one by one by one, and the world would see who’d have the last laugh.
She pointed the dagger at a few fallen stones, flicking her wrist, permitting it to pierce, to sharpen, into the wake – watched as it bounced and bounded off, fell to the broken roads and streets. A rinse and repeat method started then, dulled only by the maneuvering clouds overhead, hiding the moon, but not her ambitions.
If you dig under my feet
You will find things that you don't want to see
You will find things that you don't want to see
