[align=center] .:Moonlight Sonata:. [/align]
[align=justify:74a47f17da]Every crimson tear that trickled only to splash over the moonlight shadowed tombstone in black splashes like ink from the diffusion of darkness. Event the moon hung in the night sky like a cruel portrait portending the curses that had been placed on 'their' love. This is what this all was⦠a punishment. It had to be a punishment because nothing could be this cruel, not to a heart torn to shreds by loss and devastation. The rain, it fell. Or there they her tears of some twisted deal of fate- the way tarot cards spell out doom. Cards dealing out her destiny like a cruel smile: one the tower, two the devil and her⦠the fool. Alchemy had no concept of time, just how long she had been draped over his tombstone like a child cradling into its mother while she lay beaten in the mud and halo crowned puddles. Red roses wilted. Each single petals being plucked by the hands of ghosts only to be thrown into those pools of abysmal spheres that cast memories of how life was in his arms; how sweet his lips had been against hers under the same moonlight where tonight she mourned. Endlessly her tears fell, silently.
The shadows had taken her beloved or that which she could explain to herself without becoming frustrated at her own benign ignorance. For quite sometime she had lived in this world ignoring the darkness and evils that men do. Being one with the night, once had a beautiful romantic appeal, a glamorous life- had she known that it would soon all turn into bitter lament, Alchemy would not have taken the same path. Taken his hand and be bequeathed to his fiery kiss. It was an existence of darkness and pain, but never as bad as this⦠not this nightmare where not even in daylight could Alchemy find the solace of satin and silk. Sleep found no rest, only his eyes opened wide, blood trickling out from the corner of his mouth while the darkness dragged in back into its unholy maws, devoured before her very eyes. Sobs, whimpers and mumbled verses of the one song he had adored, the sound sweet to the ears- a melody hummed in a beautifully sorrowful din, Moonlight Sonata. Anarchy used to play it on the pianoforte for her, when the world was blessed with his perfection and music.
Sonnets whirling around in her tormented mind, and soon it would only be a matter of time when once again Alchemy would have to drag her body from his frozen embrace beneath the bereaving angel. Saturated white lace hem being hauled through the mud and across the sodden tassels of long grass; the cemetery unkempt to any mortal attention of remembrance⦠here only the forgotten were buried but her love would never be one of those. Pale ashen skin reflected by the opalesque moonlight creating a monochromatic appeal when in contrast to sable tresses flagging behind her. Haunting⦠how she must have looked like a ghost drifting through the rows of broken rock and corroded angels with saddened faces, bowing low as their silent tears went unheard. It was every night, she too felt like one of these angels that had broken free from her marble prison only to see the death in the world⦠the murder of her heart and love. Stolen from her hands that helplessly grabbed at the darkness which took him, only to lose the battle for the war had already been lost when she took the life of another vampire, stabbing him through the heart while his human victim screamed in horror.
Alchemy should have known better than to save a mortal, one who scrambled to his feet only to run and alert the âhuntersâ known as âThe Order of the Crimson Crossâ a secret society of priests dedicated to the eradication of vampires; or those who protected them. To them vampires were the scourge of all that was wholesome and holy. The devils concubines. Heavily cloaked monk-like figures all bearing a scarlet cross to the backs. Nothing else was visible and not even humans knew who they were in the daylight⦠but in the night, they were monsters. More monstrous than her and her beloved Anarchy. Had she ever taken a mortal life? Stolen it from the grace and light of âGodâ? Of course⦠as it was in her nature to admire beauty, it was also in her nature to take that which was beauty and possess it forever. Mortals aged but in her memory they would forever remain beautiful. And every night she fell in love just like every night she mourned her loverâs resting place where his last mark of identity remained⦠she knew he was nothing but dust but even in death, you stay beside the ones youâve loved.
In the darkness of Alchemyâs animated soul, she had no desire to continue with this torturous existence, but she had no desire not to ever dance beneath the moonlight again, clutched to the victim she had just drained, waltzing. Swaying together while her grasp gripped their limp bodies tight, the last ribbon of blood decorating their throats like a ruby charm before leaving them to decay; everything decayed in the end, even endless eternal love. Anarchy would have wanted her to continue, to not be sad from his departure of this world and to always remember that he would be waiting for her on the other side. Was there another side? All she that was real was the cold splashes of rain against her skin, dampening her long ravenesque hair⦠the rhombus of crystal beads adorning the sides of her cheeks and delicate hands. Coldness was real, love was not- winters and summers pass but this coldness always remains. Once it had been in her soul, now it was in her heart and even though it felt like it was breaking⦠she would welcome the splintered shards perforating her flesh, only to bleed again. To feel again. [/align:74a47f17da]
[align=center] .:Temptation:.
âI canât keep living like this.â
âEverything I have is yours.
âAnd you can take it, or leave it.â
âEvery second counts.â[/align]
[align=justify:74a47f17da]Waking from a delirious consciousness, bare feet splashing in the puddles as they padded across rain-drenched pavement âPitter patter! Pitter patterâ on tottered heel. Slender arms outstretched as digits splayed⦠catching the drops of crystalline gems as they fell from the black heavens. Clouds rolled, the distant sound of thunder rumbling in the distance, lightening flashing illuming the paleness of her wintry flesh, bled of all color except for those lush ruby-red lips. Crimson orbs fluttering shyly behind long, silky lashes- even they kept their gaze to the oily puddles only to save her self from being exposed by the mortals who wished for her kinds death. Murder⦠even mortals murdered, paying the penalty by attending church and being resolved of their sins simply because they had admitted to the guilt, staining themselves with the sin. Alchemy prayed every night, just not to the same infertile figurehead mortal man did, and she did not brand her flesh with the regret of sin. The people she had killed⦠deserved to die. Predators feeding off the weaker animals of society. She too was a predator and even those can fall to the jaws of another, more potent predator.
She killed the rodents of human society indiscriminately, having no prejudice in the criminals who served themselves to dark arms and dark charms. Life was a gamble, death was also a gamble⦠and it was all games of dog eat dog, the only question there truly was, who would get eaten and who would eat? Reminiscing the screams of her last victim, a decadent fellow who lured children into dark alleys, tempting them with sweet candy only to wrap his blade around their throats and tamper with their innocent parts while they cried, tears falling as his evil was reflected in their eyes. A madman who saw his own reflection, in his own psychosis that the devil wasnât him, it was in the eyes of the children⦠so he cut them out and replaced them with coins. In reality, he squealed like a stuck pig as she was preening his stitches with needles; legs kicking beneath him only to be pushed back against the wall and pierced harder⦠suspending him from the ramparts of iron like a marionette. In feeding upon the rot of human filth, she too had been branded a âkillerâ, hunted every night, just the same as she mourned every night. A vicious circle waiting to be broken. A link in the chain waiting to be unlocked and a new key discovered.[/align:74a47f17da]
[align=center]âIâll go anywhere with you, just wrap me up in chainsâ¦â
ââ¦stay with me. Just stay with me!â
âYou must only think of me.â
âNo⦠donât go!â[/align]
[align=justify:74a47f17da]Every night the same voices⦠they torment her with their cries and sad effigies. All the ghosts of the night following her like faithful paramounts lapping at her heels. Ethereal gossamer sheer in the mitigated illumination of celestial golden lances piercing the tempestuous firmament as rubies danced in her eyes. Vivaciously energies soared, on blackened wings with the unfurling hatreds of wind- a black angel searching for her light. If light remained in this world, still. Her hands would cradle it, treasure it for always in the tenderness of her palm, as she would a perfumed rose. Mystery and secrets haunted her heart as she wandered the city streets⦠passing strangers only giving second glance due to her obvious distress and every man wanting to play hero offering double-talk and Samaritan intentions only to be received by deaf ears and a glance askance with those burning crimson eyes. Lips of the darkest reds not beguiling smile of benevolence- kindness frozen from her emotions, this night. For once she wanted to feel less human and more like a monster. A demon of night, a lover of darkness.
A passionate sigh escaping⦠bouquets of cemetery and sundown; shadows dancing in dreams of stabbing descent of white attire becoming sheerer as rain drenched her though, laced bodice exposing tasteful skin and elegant topography. Sophistication emanating should any observerâs study of fluid motion. Alchemy giving the impression of floating above the soiled mud-spattered pavement rendering her visage without reflection. In the echoes of timeless night, a tune captivated her psyche. Music playing, poignant in melancholy and only one such as herself could truly appreciate its quality and regretful cadence⦠amalgamating with the storms howls and despondent harmonies. Was it from some dream or nightmare? The tune Alchemy didnât instantly recognize, maybe it was some unknown composer sitting out on a rail, playing to the darkness and all its magnificent elements? It was the mystery that inspired her curiosity to find the answer her heart craved to know. She had an appreciation of beauty⦠and this music was undeniably⦠beautiful.[/align:74a47f17da]
[align=center]-|.What spread of lies arise when lovers die. Which circle of hell is mine when I arrive?.|-[/align]
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