He’d nearly flinched at her COOL touch; there was no warmth left for him in the world. There was nothing but an endless winter, and his very blood felt chilled. Lucille had been the one to decide how they would SURVIVE, and how he felt helpless in the face of an UNCERTAIN future! He hated it; hated what he had become under her influence and care!
But he knew that he truly loved her; loved and HATED her in some morbid fashion. He dry laugh escaped him then, and he finally let go of the cleaver the blade dropping softly on the snow-covered ground.
❝ —- something? Something between such maimed, TWISTED beings? Is it not but a delusion to believe that WE are truly capable of love? ❞
The lines on his face seemed to be permanently ETCHED, marking his usually BOYISH face and making him seem like he had AGED since that morning.
❝ I have not the WILL to do what I please. Strike me down if you wish, Grimhilde. I care NOT. ❞
Getting shakily to his feet, he leaned against the nearest piece of machinery, taking one long, shutteringbreath. Behind him loomed Allerdale Hall, the black structure sticking out in an endless blanket of WHITE: a symbol of the true CORRUPTION that occurred within its walls.
FOR SO LONG SHE HAD been solemn, as if the DEATH she wrought had crept beneath flesh untainted by the perils of time, infecting the very centre of her being. all was ASH & CINDER around her, wine losing its taste upon her pallet, the world’s finest cuisine not once awakening it. the lust for life diminished, a flickering flame hardly able to withstand with wisps of the autumn wind. ‘twas the spoils of the victory she seized so long ago, an ETERNITY spent within the MAUSOLEUM she had forged, slowly ROTTING within it. perhaps that had been what kept her at his side, held her to Allerdale Hall, what called her to return each fleeting moment there was freedom, the similarity that intertwined them so.
now, his features began to mirror the haunting nature of the sinking manor, possessing him as it had the sibling he yearned to accompany in death. ‘twas the wish she would not grant, far to SELFISH to relinquish him so with the tether that had been woven between them. not when in his company a heart long numbed began to flutter to LIFE once more.
❛ —— no. ❜
a hiss slithered from her, serpentine in nature, guts twisting as he dared to mention such ludicrous sentiment. she had seen visions of this end the moment they had touched that evening at her own home & yet she allowed it to unfold. the reason not even she could admit to herself even with the odd tenderness shown in the placement of her palm over his beating heart, in the nature of her tone.
❛ something far greater than love. far more dangerous. ❜
not a moment later, she began reciting VERBIS DIABLO, a mixture of latin & her old germanic roots, a spell lifted from the pages of her memory to SEVER the woeful ties of dependence, to AWAKEN him to explore the freedom she offered, to cover an addled mind with a blanket of mystical LITHIUM.
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