This isn't really about the characters of TMI or Tithe, it's really just a side story containing both worlds and some of the characters. But I might connect it with characters. Maybe.
DISCLAIMER!: STORY IDEAS GO TO HOLLY BLACK AND CASANDRA CLARE! I ONLY OWN THE OCS!(MOST OF THE CHARACTERS)
Lets see if this works. Sorry for bad writing.
Main Character POV
I knew what I was doing wrong, but the feeling never went away.
Except when I killed.
The train tunnel was the perfect place, besides, no one would miss the guy and his son living in it. 'Honestly, I'm doing the world a favor here.'
So they were the the perfect victims.
I was soon right next to the pair, seeing filthy rags, an old wool cloak that had long ago lost it's warmth, no shoes, and smelling decay of hopelessness everywhere.
Perfect, and even though I didn't want to admit it, mouthwatering.
I shook off my glamour, letting them see what would haunt their nightmares in the afterlife.
Black demonic wings sprouting from my pale back, blonde and black hair waved in an unseen current, sheathed nails were unleashed claw, and eyes as lifeless and dim as a corpse. COmbined with fangs, and tattered but stylish clothes, I was a princess of Hell.
I knew this was what they saw, because the man screamed and tried to push the little boy behind him into the snow that had seeped in, while making the sign of the cross.
"How sweet a gesture, but no matter what, you'll both be dead within the hour." My voice was cheerful, but not sweet. This was the fun part.
I grabbed the man's throat, sticking my claws in deep. Blood flood freely, fantastic. With strength a human could only ever dream of having, I flung him against the wall. I wanted the boy first.
"Don't leave," I looked at him crawling away. "I don't like chase games."
But he couldn't have gotten away anyway, because I had one more surprise, my whip. Cracking it, my wrist moved a fraction. His arm was caught and I pulled the boy towards me. I whispered in his ear causing a shudder. "It's not nice running out in the middle of our game. In fact, it's just plain rude. How 'bout we start again," I smiled, and my wings flared. He screamed, making the sweetest sound in history.
"What. . wh-what d-do you. . .w-w-want?'
"To kill you of course. Isn't it obvious?"
"Please d-don-ahhhh!" I had torn his heart out. What? I was bored.
Now I let him fall to the ground, and turned to his father. "Let's play."
To make a long story short, there was a lot of blood, screaming, ripping, and laughing that half hour.
But eventually I had to return home. My home, the Seelie court. You'd expect the Unseelie right? Wrong.
I had once heard that once you had lived in the Bright Court, you could never leave for long without feeling lost or like a piece of you was missing. For me, luckily, that had always proved false, false and annoying. Especially when my mother said it.
Ah, my parents. Charles and Lydia Blueblood. Both brunette with lovely black blue eyes, butterfly wings, and bell-like voices. Or at least that was my mom, I never saw my dad. Didn't know why.
Her appearance was something I would never have, even if I lived for eternity. Which indecently, I would.
"Fuck." Why did my life have to be miserable? Why did I have to live with the secret that I killed innocents just to shut my head up? Why me? I was better suited to the darkest pit of hell than my own birthplace!
'Relax,' I told myself. 'It doesn't matter. Maybe your parents were solitary fey, before you were born. There's no reason to get upset, besides, there are always drawbacks to good things, especially when they're this good.' I knew that, but being a rejected and mentally abused outcast wasn't fun. Not at all.
Before these thoughts could plague me more, I was struck with the sight of Faerie.
If you've ever seen heaven then you should have an idea of what the Bright Courts looks. If not, then visualize a cathedral that was left in a forest for a thousand years. It has gone to ruin with flowers and plants growing into it. The floor has given away to grass and the columns are mixed among trees. Then add in about a hundred small paths that seem to lead to nowhere going in all directions, these actually do lead to nowhere unless you have a fey guide. Plus, they smell wonderful, so anything close or less than a mundie would want to stay on them forever.
I followed one of the smaller orange smelling ones to a small copse of willows, then carefully making my way to as not disturb the little bells intertwined in the frost and grass green leaves, I climbed the tallest to my home. It was a small cave space, the top of the tree cut off but left the branches to grow and create a roof. I had used some magic to make the inside leaves shimmer a black-silver, with tints of blood red.
But the room itself was pretty bare.
It held a redwood cot, a desk for writing and creating new ways to mess with (and not kill) mundanes, and what I was after: a small elf made cabinet. But instead of opening the piece itself, I looked to the wood beneath. The wood was the usual light willow color and was smooth as glass, perfect for a faerie who was known for her dancing.
But what was hidden here was not in any way as innocent as that. I opened the loose knot, and took out the few things that could destroy everything I had worked for.
A small book, silver and iron on the cover. A necklace with the black rune of Chaos hanging from it (a S shape, with three horns sprouting from the top), and the most dangerous of all, a packet of Nevermoore.
This was a substance that helped fey who got sick from being in Ironside for too long, but it gave mortals the powers of fey while getting them high.
So I pulled out the pouch, and stood to open the cabinet. From there I got a polished blackberry chalice, small like a humane shot glass, and covered with thorns that would kill anyone but me with their poison. The high from murder was wearing off and I needed something to stop the voices, just for a little longer.
Quickly, fearing discovery and shame, I poured a pinch of Nevermoore into the chalice, then going to the waterfall flowing in the only corner. Yes, I had an actual waterfall in my room. Trust me when I say, it wasn't much and most fey don't have them simply because it's now unfashionable.
The water filed my cup was, after I stirred it with my finger, a crystal clear silver.
I laughed. "Something that stupid mundanes will kill for and I have for free! Though I'd honestly rather kill." Which, sometimes I did. I'd had to kill my little sister and her boy toy for this pouch. Not that I cared. I had hated her anyways.
So, an interesting chapter. My first, and not my scariest.
Now I know what you're thinking "Oh great, another tortured character we have to figure out. Just great."
Let me answer that right now. She is not tortured, except by voices. Which she kills to silence, but mostly she kills to kill. My character, who is still nameless simply because I have no idea what to name her, is evil.
Which is why I'm writing this story in the first place. We need to just feel the evil, with no reasoning behind it.
Hope you get it, but otherwise I do't really care. I honestly have no idea how this will be recieved, so yea.
Bye!
