[Gillar] A touch of death

by **Karona Isenbach** on March 15th, 2010, 7:05 pm

Day 2, Spring, 510 AV

"Help! Somebody, anybody! Please! Help me! Have mercy!"

There she was, sitting on a soft, weathered sofa chair, holding an elegant glass cup in her hands with a satisfied smile on her crimson lips. Her pale, ashen face appeared to be drunk and overwhelmed by her own revelry, not from alcohol, but from her tireless administration of the horrific scene of torture which she was gleefully watching and listening to. The display of her bright, yet hollow gray eyes alternated from being sharp, half-closed slits, to wild and wide-open, depending on how agonized his grovels and pleas rung in her ears. The louder and more defeated it sounded, the more pleasurable it was for her. She hated defiance, although she somewhat welcomed challenges.

It was like a fine theater presentation, or a wondrous musical for her, to put it simply.

"Please! Let me go! I won't tell a soul! Please! Have mercy!"

She burst into melodious laughter at his pathetic bleating, daintily wiping off some liquid recesses on her cheek. Truly, his redundant screaming and pleading neither fazed her, nor touched the strings of her black heart with pity. Rather, it made her feel alive, made her gloat and revel in ecstasy. For while he was suffering on an improvised bed, with his limbs and skin being slowly torn apart by iron strings, she was all smiles and laughter.

"You are in my world now, my dear." she whispered ominously, the tone changing from shrill to monstrous as it went on. "Please do go ahead and beg to your heart's content. In the darkness, no one can hear you scream. No one, but me. Go on, pleasure me. Like you said you would."

The dark, red liquid inside the clear vessel in her hand heaved up and down against the sides as she stirred it with dainty, circular motions. Every sip she had made was filled with a thick and warm taste, as perfect as the most expensive wine is to the most gregarious connosieur. When the unfortunate naked man turned his slashed, bloodied face towards her, his eyes wide open with shock and terror, she merely smiled sweetly at him as she took another drink of the cup of blood. His blood.

"Why are you doing this?!" the man screamed, his arms vainly struggling against the strings holding him down. "I only wanted to get to know you! I only wanted to win your favor!"

The lady ceased drinking for a moment, raising a devious, slender eyebrow at the man's declarations and inquiries before downing all the contents of the glass, a satisfied sound prancing out afterwards. She gracefully stood up and glided towards him, circling the rack like a collector in an art exhibition. She appeared to be studying the scene she had made with gusto, observing every nook and cranny of her handiwork. All the man could do in return was yank on his binds, with the tiny knots only getting tighter with every ounce of waning strength he threw at it.

"My, my, my. How considerate of you." she said gently to him, as if he was trying to soothe the unfathomable pain wracking his broken body. Her fingers gingerly trailed his sliced and carved cheek. His body convulsed in disdain, disgust and pain as she did, his only open eye thrusting upwards towards the face of evil looming over him. "But don't you worry, you are earning my favor, and you most certainly are getting to know me better. I think you have now seen every bit of who I am. Don't you think so?"

The man had come knocking on her doors the night before, carrying a pompous sword and dressed up in clothes fit for a noble of some sort. He had an arrogant look on his face, as if he was there to buy her instead of court her. The moment she opened her chambers to him, he was spouting all sorts of complaints about her vast, but truthfully dingy--and smelly, compliments of her festering corpse doll Drasche--apartment. He was pointing to her mirror, about how absurdly big it is, to her wallpaper about how poorly maintained it was, about her chairs being so uncomfortable. To top it off, he declared that he was there to 'pleasure' her, to take what those dozens of other men had failed to win. He wanted to take it, not even win it. And it spelled the worst kinds of thoughts imaginable within her.

The rage she felt inside was nothing unusual, though. She does, however, have varying degrees of respect for those who show her some of it as well. When she does like someone who comes along, she usually kills them quicker. This man, however, had incurred her insatiable wrath by his pompous and high strung ways, and beyond her glamorous and polite demeanor, he was going to pay dearly for it. Once he had ingested the ground slice of Drasche's rotten flesh that she had mixed into the tea she served for him, he was hers for the taking. Within a few moments, he was out cold.

The very next thing he knew, he was already bound to his fate.

She smirked at her sarcasm, letting the thoughts sink into his drowning mind as she played with his matted and sweaty hair, twisting and pulling at it with varying levels of strength. "I need another glass. And oh! How could I have forgotten. This sensual taste would certainly go well with another more delectable and juicy appetizer.Now, hold still."

Without further ado, two long and well-manicured fingers dove downwards, quickly plucking out something with a tiny popping sound. An unearthly scream erupted from the bound man as tremors of blood began to ooze from his now deprived right eye socket, with the orb now resting between her fingers. Long, winded veins still hung on to it from within the cavernous hole, something which she promptly remedied by taking out a pair of massive shears from her waist, effectively cutting off the last remaining bond he had with his eye.

Shrugging dismissively at the vituperations and curses that he began to strafe her with, she casually tossed the eye into her glass, then scooped at the streaming liquid from the side of his face.

"OH GOD!! OH MY GOD!! Help me!! Curse you you godless bitch!!" he roared in indignation and blinding pain. The strings had by now reached the marrow of his bones, completely severing the Achilles tendons for his ankles and the Anterior compartments for his arms, thus rendering him unable to move, as well as weakened further. The bleeding had by now become so profuse that Karona's mood gradually began to sour; she had but a few moments more with this man for sure.

Sighing in a disconcerted manner, her hands once again hovered over his paling face, upon which he frightfully averted it as far and desperately as he could, digging it deeper into the steel rack of the bed. He whimpered and let out a muffled cry as her hand began to radiate with a malevolent sort of coldness, glowing with an energy which could only be described as hellish to look at, Stopping her hand a few inches away from her faces for a few seconds more--just to let him savor his terrible last moments on on earth--she then grasped the width of his face, with a finger unintentionally finding its way into his pulsating socket. She grinned in macabre delight as her middle finger squirmed inside the hole, as if she was cleaning it out,with the sorry man shouting and shouting until his throat was so hoarse that he could no longer utter a sound.

She had finally encased him in the grand finale, within the entanglements of her ever-tumultuous mind. Within the darkness, he could see himself clearly, as if he was floating over his own form. His eyes--or his last remaining eye, for that matter--were wide open, as was his mouth, He remained bound, with his limbs finally limp and pale from blood loss. On his bare chest, he could make out some letters which he had neither felt nor noticed before, ones obviously carved with something sharp, possibly her fingernails. At first, he could not understand what the words were, but the closer he looked, the brighter the blood within seemed to burn, and for the very last time, he screamed.

"Death is only the beginning."

Karona's eyes continued to gaze down upon the final result of her torture, with his features and expressions all as twisted as horribly as she had wanted. "I have to be honest with you, you do know how to pleasure a woman." she whispered to the corpse as she downed her last fill of his blood, letting the eyeball slide down her throat in finality.

Now that her session was over, she wondered silently if there was still anything else that she could find pleasure in. Walking back to her couch, she sank down into the soft plushes, in thought about what she would do next.

Secret :

by **Gillar** on March 29th, 2010, 9:31 am

Unfortunately for Karona, the man's screams did not go unnoticed. Whether they were informed by those living nearby or by a passerby , a pair of city guards were directed to Karona's living chambers. Karona had just settled onto the couch when she heard a loud knock at the door followed by an announcement, "City guard! There have been reports of a disturbance! Open the door or we will be forced to open it ourselves!" Having received reports of horrific screams of pain and torment coming from behind the door, the guards were not about to take any chances. Such things were not taken lightly and the two men were prepared with weapons drawn.

For Karona, there was no real place to hide the body or even clean up the mess that stood out like a fully armored Syliran Knight in the middle of a crowd of children. If she were caught, the punishment for her crime would be nothing short of death. With only one way in and out, she was trapped.

Only a few seconds passed before there was another knock followed by one of the man outside saying to the other, "Alright, open it." A brief moment passed and nothing happened. The door did not fly open with guards pouring in. Everything had begun so fast with Karona letting her guard down as she sat in the couch followed a few seconds later by the knocking and demands of the guards. Then, a few seconds later, all was silent. Before Karona could fully take in the chaos of it all, the door that had been barred shut, opened but a crack with silence still emanating from the other side.

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Meanwhile, somewhere far away from Syliras, one waited for events to gradually unfold. Unable to extend their influence far enough to view what transpired in the city of Syliras, they had ways of keeping track of things. The one who had attracted attention this time had done so before; a woman who fancied herself a killer and who acted without a plan, without a direction. Though the one who watched was not known for focused attention to anything, their attention was still harnessed at least for the moment. Perhaps they could make use of this woman and cause a little strife at the same time. A grin crossed their face as they reached to move the pawn forward.

by **Karona Isenbach** on April 1st, 2010, 3:38 pm

Karona's head turned with a predatory snarl at the men knocking on her doors, shock gleaming through her wicked hollow eyes in the darkness. She had been too careless with her actions, and now everything she had ever done was going to be revealed for all of Syliras to see. A tinge of alarm ran down her spine; it was going to go very poorly for her, she thought concededly, shrugging at the portent of doom that had come blazing back at her. All she could do in response was continue sitting down with the glass of blood still in her hand, with her fangs barred in anticipation of her impending capture and, undoubtedly, her death.

She was expecting the guards to come barging in with their weapons bared, ready to hack and slash her to pieces as soon as the horrific evidence of her activities showed themselves in full. Her heart neither fearing her fate or her lot, she smiled derisively at her twin doors, ready to meet the end with all her beauty and glorious reverie intact.

A moment passed, and the ticks began to wane. Still the door did not come crashing down, and the soldiers with their shining blades did not show. When the wooden entrance creaked open slowly, the lady of blood could only tilt her head in curiosity, no longer alarmed but all the more dubious. It was odd that the very roused men outside her apartment could have changed their minds so quickly over their duty to investigate, and have resorted to calmer methods all on their own free will.

When they still did not enter, she knew something was causing things to boil down in magnitude. Something strangely familiar. With an eyebrow perking up and a grin touching her lips, Karona Isenbach smirked in pleasure as she sipped from her dainty glass, putting it aside upon standing.

"Come in my lords." she called out invitingly to the people at the door, her hand reaching for the razor-sharp shears she hides on her waistline, ready to stab whoever comes in.

by **Gillar** on April 11th, 2010, 10:14 am

At her words, there was no immediate response to Karona. The door remained opened but a sliver and only silence came from the other side. After a brief moment, the door creaked open further and the sounds of metallic footsteps filled the air as did a strange odor smelling a mix of burnt hair and roses right after a Spring shower. The source of the footsteps and odor was that of a figure of medium build, tall, dressed in fine white silk and linen. The figure moved with a masculine gate and wore a white, wide-brimmed hat sporting a silver feather and a white silk scarf that hid their face. The figure's hands too were clothed in white silk gloves as no flesh was visible to help identify the true identity of the individual.

The visitor glanced around the room before resting their gaze upon Karona. The shears in her hand began to feel slimy and indeed a sickly green ooze had formed over them; slightly acidic to the touch so that they were quite uncomfortable to continue holding.

In a gravely whisper; a mix of male and female tone, the visitor said with an odd accent, "There be no need fah vilence, m'dear. I be but a like min-ed sew heah with a offah. Be you willin ta heah meh?" The visitor appeared unarmed and stood non-threateningly. The door behind them slowly closed of its own accord yet the odd odor remained heavy in the air.

by **Karona Isenbach** on April 11th, 2010, 3:08 pm

The lady in flowing crimson felt the tingling feeling which was starting to melt into her hand's nerves, and looked down in abject curiosity at the source of it. A strangely delectable smile broke into her expression, as if she was more pleasured than pained at the sensation. Nonetheless she gently placed the slimy scissors aside, wiping her hand with a cloth before moving forward to curtsy to her visitor.

The smell that began to fill the room was not lost upon the host. It was sweet, so intensely sweet in fact that it quickly burnt out the rotting odor of her handiwork from her own consciousness. It was not anything that was of the ordinary, either, for it came with a feeling that was unnerving and dismantling. She wouldn't mistake it for anything in the world. It was a smell laden with death, like the one which accompanies the funeral to the grave.

"Indeed milord, I would be delighted to hear your offer. Please do speak," she replied, her dark, hollow eyes suddenly beginning to fill with the rancor of her own chaos.

She couldn't even bring herself to ask who this mysterious white-clad man is. Whoever he is, she could feel that he possessed something that she had been craving since the first night of her 'gifting', and it drew her in like a fish on a reel.

His presence was definitely near, and the evening could only end two ways. One, she could find what she had been looking for, or two, it could find her.

by **Gillar** on April 18th, 2010, 8:34 am

As Karona watched the man, he paced slowly around the room apparently looking around at random things; never really focusing on anything particular. At times, Karona could see the man's suit move in odd ways as if there were something else under moving around. A sleeve would bulge slightly and at an odd place while his jacket would rustle where it shouldn't. Then, in the same eerie whisper, he spoke, "You be quite trustin'. Be wary uv thah my deah foah ickould caussa unpleasan tings ta be happenin. Howevah, I be heah wit ya offah. I be wurkin foah individuah who happenin ta be sumin specheah to ya massah Rhysol. Heah be needin sum assissance that ya may be abah to gif. Ya be well rewarded ana ya massah be pleased asawell. Iffaya interested, we be talkin moah elsawheah?"

The man's accent was so foreign to Karona that she had no choice but to focus heavily on his words in order to decipher exactly what he was saying. It seemed too that the words he spoke did not come easy to him as if he spoke another language unlike anything she had even heard fragments of before. The way he moved, the way he spoke and even his scent was such that he didn't seem quite of this world.

"Issa notasafa heah to be speakin more off tis. I knowa place mora secure." The man stopped pacing and turned to face Karona. From behind the silk scarf over his face, Karona couldn't help but get a shiver from the gaze she knew was upon her. While not overwhelming, the nearest term she could put on it was, alien.

by **Karona Isenbach** on April 20th, 2010, 3:11 pm

And shiver she did at his gaze, a shiver of fright, if not of lush excitement. The strange man is definitely one which made her blood tingle, her spine straighten arch with straightness. It was unearthly to be around him, almost suffocating, yet she kept her mouth shut with all her flattering compliments locked up inside. If she were to open her mouth, it would be caressing and sickeningly sweet words that will be coming out, and it would perhaps be foolish to talk before they reached their destination. With another curtsy, she gestured for him to lead the way, half-expecting him to open a portal to the underworld in a rare and fleeting moment of playful imagination.

Perhaps he was trying to give her a dose of her own medicine, concerning the feelings of fear? The offer intrigued her to no end, and it quite piqued her interest. A smile touched her still blood-stained lips as she waited for him to begin the move.

by **Gillar** on April 26th, 2010, 4:56 am

The man lowered his head, finally turning his unsettling gaze away from Karona. He raised his arms out to either side of his body and began uttering strange, hissing, guttural tones. As he did, his outstretched arms, sleeves and all, began to melt; dripping to the floor into a pool of bubbling, black ooze. Small tendrils twitched, twisted and rose from the pool that continued to grow as the rest of the man's form melted. The pool began to spread and grow much larger than the man's original mass as it spread across the floor and to the walls. It did not stop at the walls however as it began to crawl up them; countless numbers of tendrils reaching out from the bubbling substance. In a very short time, the entire room was covered in the "man" and remained that way for several moments before it suddenly stopped bubbling; the tendrils vanishing. Then, in an instant, it all turned to dust that blew away on a sudden breeze that appeared out of nowhere.

Karona found herself sitting on a large stone where she had once been seated on a couch. With the vanishing of the strange ooze-turned-dust, she saw that she was no longer in her home, much less Syliras. She was somewhere completely different. She was seated upon a large stone upon a cliff overlooking a valley. A vast forest stretched out for as far as the eye could see and was broken only by what lie at the center of the valley, overgrown ruins of what may have once been an expansive city. Although it was hard to tell from where she sat, the ruins looked to be very old, without a doubt pre-Valterrian.

"Here we be." A familiar, whispered voice said from behind her.