Post by Natsumi Sayuri on Aug 10, 2010 21:34:25 GMT -4
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It shouldn't be like this -- always living on the edge of violence, always shivering away from the gentility in her heart, frightened of the memories that stir whenever her fingers touch lightly upon another's skin. Who's face would look up at her with that trust? Who's throat would be the next to be under her fangs? She was dangerous, she was on fire, always, always, running away from the conflagration in her heart as the Wolf circles her with it's haughty eyes, black and insidious, stealing the warmth from her fingers but burning her alive.
Her skin was cold, but she felt hot -- to the touch, almost, as if the the water that was dripping from her skin would become steam, would become an illusion of misty mimicry to dance before her eyes. She was on the edge again, alone, again, again -- always this flight into her own head, her own heart, too scared to be bared so thoroughly. There was no Luke, here. There was no Murazar, who had gone with his little prize and left her alone, alone -- an echo of a lifetime slithering up her arms and into her spine. Alone, alone: she was a wolf, not a loner. She wanted the warmth of a pack, not the fire of the dominant spirit which she had become.
There was only this moment suspended between her first breath and the next -- only this little bit of frustration as the rain kept on falling and falling, as it soaked through her clothes into her bones. Rin had almost drowned, had almost died, had almost, so close she still remembered the feeling of it slipping between her fingers, begun to live again. It was dangerous to be around Luke, to look into his eyes and know that he was trying to piece together the puzzle that should never be seen, to peel back her skin and watch as her heart convulsed from the pleasure of it all.
Was this all it took? The need, yes, this impossible need crashing around inside of her, throughout her, permeated the very breath she expelled with a puff of air; water dripped from her fingers as she stared out the window, as she held herself on the brink of insanity, of depression, of anger, and violence -- so many emotions, too many, but they would not be killed, would not be kept away. They clamored in her heart, in every little twitch in her mouth, every little shift of her pupils -- dilated to plates, so dark they appeared as if there were no color but black, no life, but death hanging in the balance.
She was alive, wasn't she? She was here, was Rin -- somehow, still. Taro's eyes glimmered behind the window pane, but she knew a ghost when she saw it -- knew the guilt that pierced her with sweet remembrance. Luke had tried, but it wasn't enough. Murazar had given up. Dimitri -- yes, that silence and emptiness behind his greedy eyes: they frightened her most of all with their consumption of her very soul. He was dangerous, but to a girl who was afraid of being seen, who wanted nothing more than to lose herself, he was the victim, and she the prey; she the Wolf that rolled onto it's back and begged with it's neck stretched taut to be bitten and claimed, to be abused and acknowledged. He would consume her, destroy her, erase everything good that was left of Rin, and she would let him, with pleasure, with last bit of sincerity that was left.
The fire had banked into glowing embers; Rin's presence was dim in comparison to the monstrosity of the Wolf which surged forward behind her eyes. Two entities, entwined forever -- but the war was being lost, and the cost would be Rin's consciousness. The Wolf was there now, slipping up behind her eyes, staring with it's pitiless black eyes, transforming that silence into a predatory wait -- it knew prey would come, it knew it's purpose would soon be fulfilled: to fill in the void in the girl's heart with bloodshed, to hide the angst and the terror, to bury it so deep it no longer mattered, no longer hindered and captivated. Let be, the Wolf is growling, low, so low -- but it is a wordless emotion that bursts against the surface of Rin's mind.
Rin was standing here alone, forbidden, tempting fruit -- waiting to be plucked, waiting for the flower to become the Venus fly trap with it's needle-like fangs. Come to me, she is saying, with her petite shoulders, her short stature. Come to me and be devoured. This was what it was all about, after all. She was standing here alone, of course, ostracizing herself from the friends who had welcomed her, wanted to peel back the layers of that mystery which had roared out in the midst of their serenity. She was standing alone, with her head held high, despite the heaviness in her soul, the pit that opened up in her stomach; alone, yes, alone, but it was the only way to survive.
The Wolf's voice quivered on her lips, soundless, wanting to burst free, but Rin does not speak -- she turns away from the window, moving through the world as if there were a barrier between herself and life. Mura had often said he was death, but he was simply cold, heartless; a brutal man trying to find a heart he didn't have in Etta's hands. Rin accepted her badness, gave up her happiness, the heart she knew she had, for something else. Anything else.
It's time for me to leave, she thinks, and the Wolf, sick of being caught up on an island, merely coaxes the fire to a vibrant flame, echoing her desires with it's own. Be free, be wild -- give up this humanity, this pain, this remembered guilt and be something else, something greater. Be touchable. Be the fire that no one dares to be near. Be the violence.
Be the Wolf.
word count;; 1019
tags;; open to anyone ^-^
OOC;; yay for new layout -__- I think I'll be keeping this one though xD
