The
boy fell from his vertical and determined plane, fell through the
green and into the horizontal damnation of her arms. She knelt,
accepting of this burden, cradling his broken form as though he were
her own boy. She removed the shattered glasses with care, and traced
the scar fading upon the bloodstained brow almost lovingly. A triumph
she could not explain twisted, churned, tingled in her stomach,
mingling with nausea from the smells of blood, rain and mud.
Mudblood filth, her mind murmured in a voice not her own,
impurity muddled further.
A skeletal hand grabbed her
wrist, pulling her up and away from the dead boy. He fell facedown in
the mud, splattering her ragged dress as the corpse returned to the
ignominy of its birth. She allowed her eyes to close, the gleaming
image of an emerald, celestial serpent burning into her irises. She
did not struggle as thin arms pulled her jerkily closer. Blackness
covered both their bodies, binding them - she fell into the arcane
embrace. A familiar gold chain slithered its way over her
collarbones, a familiar gravity played about her neck, and she
thought to look up into the face.
A hand paler than the death
it commanded pulled back a hood, and the eyes of the Damned met. A
bony finger pressed against her lips when she opened her mouth to
scream, although they both knew she would not have. A smirk twisted a
face so unlike her own, mocking her plainness with its hideosity.
Fighting not to sob, she kissed the fingertip, then shakily,
reverently, traced a cheekbone with a trembling hand. The smirk
broadened, and she saw the fires of Hell itself reflected in the
livid red gaze from which she could not tear her own away. A breath
stirred over her cheek, the language of her ancestors laying chill
over her skin.
"Mother. I have avenged us now."