066.

[a_failed_god]

"I must get rid of all those that stand in the way of my research. Even that one from the Turks.
"I scientifically altered him, and put him to sleep in the basement. If you want to find him, then search the area.
"But this is merely a game I thought of. It is not necessary to participate if you don't want to."

Is it not familiar?

Comments

Private//Unhackable. fkjgodsijo <33333333

[a_failed_god]

Is it frightening, Vincent, to be so incapacitated? To be so incapable of articulating? Is your tongue thick in your mouth? Are your hands sluggish? It's a natural reaction to the process. Your control is degenerating, and its will is blending into your own.

You were never supposed to stay there, Valentine. Frankly, you were overdue for your awakening when it did come, but I suppose my game was perhaps a little too difficult for most. A little obscure. I do have a habit of expecting too much from others; one of those unfortunate little drawbacks to a superior intelligence. Of course, this all means nothing to you, I'm sure. All those memories are flushed away. A near-clean slate, and fresh with the same hate you retained upon your first emergence.

Would you like the truth?

I was waiting for you.

And I still am, after all this time. You came close once, of course - once or twice, if I'm feeling favourable. It's been a long time since then, however, and you are as powerless again as you once were.

Not for long.

I have bestowed a great gift upon you.

Hold onto those desires to kill me, Vincent. I'm curious to see just how far you will be able to go. If nothing else, it will be an informative experience.

Private//Unhackable. no, you ): <333

[foreswear]

Not frightening. Sedated, and not caring. It claws and it waits and it rests, and I

am waiting, too.

But I wonder what you would do if you felt the way I did when I am unable to move within its grasp. It is immobilizing. It is paralyzing. There is no control whenever I speak his name, because his name is

chaos

and that really just speaks for itself.

But, you see, it is not he who will kill you, because it is not he who has the knowledge of what it is you've done. It will be me, just me, and it will be solid, and fluid, and not quick, but.

I have your

murder

all mapped out.

There is nothing more glorious than the death of someone who has carved the lines in my palm until they are fit for whatever it is that that someone wants.

Sometimes, I wonder

I imagine what it would sound like

to hear you scream, and I think

it would be low, and crazed, and unable to comprehend what it is that I'm doing, exactly, when I sink my teeth into the soft of your flesh right above your collarbone, right against where your throat is most vulnerable, and tear into waiting skin, into warmth that rests and shudders, until I am able to

devour

you.

Until I could feel the beating pulse of your heart against my tongue, flat and resistant, and until your fingers go limp against my arms, and until you exist no longer, and it will be

a perfect cure for my madness, I think.

You are not the only artist here.

Private//Unhackable. No you first. :( <333

[a_failed_god]

Excellent. It must be advanced, to bring you to that emotive stage. To feel nothing of the dread you once held for the release of your demons.

You, Valentine?

... Of course. No memory of the last time you tried, and hence no memory of your failure. I can assure you; there is little you can do now to change the course of your fate. Thankfully, it matters rather little if you do kill me. A small loss, when I have you this close to where I want you.

Perhaps it's that strength you draw, the strength of It. It's evidently close to the surface. Undoubtedly, Its hunger is feeding into your lucidity. I sorely doubt you would otherwise find it in you to do as you claim you shall, would find that desire to do it.

Consume me, then. Devour me as you will. What was that... ah, I remember.

My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.

An interesting piece of prose.

I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

... I did a little research, Valentine. I was quite surprised to find that it was from a poem of that nature. Biblical, at that. It seems her little hobbies are getting to you.

You will only ever hear me scream in your mind, I assure you.

Until the last breath, I will only ever laugh.

[ ooc: You're my last reply before Paris. :( THAT'S HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU, BB. ]