She screamed, the most painful, blood curtling scream ever to reach so many ears. And we all stared, some in horror, some in delight, to know that their pain was nothing compared to this small girl's heart wrenching grief. It wasn't a constant companion to her either. This was unknown territory for her. Her small heart was breaking, and some liked to know it. They smiled feral smiles as she clutched with bloody nails at the cloth that covered her chest, as if she wanted to claw her heart out. Some whooped and yelled, encouraging her to rip herself to peices on the stand.
Then there were the others being forced to watch, men and women alike who were dying to watch her in so much pain, but being forced to watch despite it. They worked their ways to the front of the crowd, attempting to help her, only to be drawn back by the hair to the back of the crowd again, to be held by gaurds that had no mercy on their mortal bodies. They wrangled them, hit and whiped them until there was no more life to try and help. The torches cascaded a welcoming light against the walls and floors of the room. As if it was anything but welcoming. The cheering continued, led on by her breaking pain.
Fey trampled the bodies of men and women who had tried to help, their terrible beauty overwhelming even while killing. The girl, now a crumpled figure on the podium, was still. She no longer weeped, no longer moved, her red hair tangled in locks around her heart shaped face. The fey grew wary, no longer interested in an already broken soul. They started to move on, head toward the hall entrance. The girl moaned and started to stand, catching the attention of the crowd again. She pulled herself to her feet, a look of extreme challenge painted on her face. A smile hinted at the corner of her mouth, and she leaped in to the crowd, teeth bared.
I had a dream... like that. I thought it was at least a bit appropriate.
Then there were the others being forced to watch, men and women alike who were dying to watch her in so much pain, but being forced to watch despite it. They worked their ways to the front of the crowd, attempting to help her, only to be drawn back by the hair to the back of the crowd again, to be held by gaurds that had no mercy on their mortal bodies. They wrangled them, hit and whiped them until there was no more life to try and help. The torches cascaded a welcoming light against the walls and floors of the room. As if it was anything but welcoming. The cheering continued, led on by her breaking pain.
Fey trampled the bodies of men and women who had tried to help, their terrible beauty overwhelming even while killing. The girl, now a crumpled figure on the podium, was still. She no longer weeped, no longer moved, her red hair tangled in locks around her heart shaped face. The fey grew wary, no longer interested in an already broken soul. They started to move on, head toward the hall entrance. The girl moaned and started to stand, catching the attention of the crowd again. She pulled herself to her feet, a look of extreme challenge painted on her face. A smile hinted at the corner of her mouth, and she leaped in to the crowd, teeth bared.
I had a dream... like that. I thought it was at least a bit appropriate.
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