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οΌ‘οΌ€οΌ‘οΌ, οΌ΄οΌ¨οΌ₯ οΌ‘οΌ¬οΌ°οΌ¨οΌ‘
βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ
βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ
ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ
βββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ
On the city's fringe, an anonymous building burned to the ground unceremoniously. For a pit that had laid claim to the lives of two great leaders, the venerable mold was dissolved in a perfunctory silence. No one was left to bare witness to the end of an era, the two remaining warriors having abandoned it soon thereafter to report the travesty, or rather victory, depending on how one examined the event. This was probably for the best for had they stayed, they'd of been subjected to the most demoniacal of all shocks, that of the abysmally unexpected and grotesquely unbelievable. Confronted with an ashen eidolon of unwholesome revelation, they'd of been driven to hysteria for there in the nighted quiet a smile split the dark, arching upwards as the pair of orbs above it gleamed like chips of flint. One of two leaders was not quite so deceased after all...The prodigious alpha rose from the silhouette of a neighboring edifice donned in only a coat of ash and grime like some sort of dark phoenix reborn.
He admired his charred tomb with a sense of biting satisfaction, his escape having been a breath away from demise. If anything had come from this failed venture, it was only that Victoria's bones now lied in a mountain of brick and embers, freeing the warrior snake of it's loathsome head. That, and his newfound understanding of his lover turned adversary. It would seem even the formidable alpha was fallible, but he would not make that same mistake twice. If he burnt, Lauren Sliverstein would burn alongside him. His maniacal grin grew further as a slow unfurling of lips and teeth, shark eyes black in the flickering light reflecting the fire that may not have eaten his flesh, but had certainly consumed what was left of his soul.
The alpha lived to scheme another day, and this time with the freedom of assumed anonymity. This was a balm as well as a source of bitterness. But could he just create an ounce of nepenthe from the chaos of echoing images left to him...he could dispel this acridity and move forward and conquer. In madness he sank away from the adjacent building's rooftop and down into the accursed pile of mortar to sift swiftly and silently where he had last laid eyes on Victoria. There his stained hands unearthed a mass of scorched flesh and bone, many a piece crushed in separation.
The human body had thirty three vertebrae divided into five regions, but Adam only sought out one. He took the surviving sacrum, from the Latin os sacrum meaning holy or sacred bone, as a trophy, a spoil of war or king's guerdon, as it were. In ages long since past, the sacrum was the part of an animal offered in sacrifice. The Greekβs had believed the bone was indestructible. It was thought to be the seat of the human soul. Did Adam mean to possess her soul?...it was curious, but no. There was only one soul which he required possession of, and it had stolen away in the night with his child. The wind rattled the building's desiccated frame as it crumbled with a heaving sough, dousing the dying flames in ash. A single triumphant howl broke off into the starless Stygian sky to join in the chorus of mournful cry's heard round the cityscape. Long live the king.
He admired his charred tomb with a sense of biting satisfaction, his escape having been a breath away from demise. If anything had come from this failed venture, it was only that Victoria's bones now lied in a mountain of brick and embers, freeing the warrior snake of it's loathsome head. That, and his newfound understanding of his lover turned adversary. It would seem even the formidable alpha was fallible, but he would not make that same mistake twice. If he burnt, Lauren Sliverstein would burn alongside him. His maniacal grin grew further as a slow unfurling of lips and teeth, shark eyes black in the flickering light reflecting the fire that may not have eaten his flesh, but had certainly consumed what was left of his soul.
The alpha lived to scheme another day, and this time with the freedom of assumed anonymity. This was a balm as well as a source of bitterness. But could he just create an ounce of nepenthe from the chaos of echoing images left to him...he could dispel this acridity and move forward and conquer. In madness he sank away from the adjacent building's rooftop and down into the accursed pile of mortar to sift swiftly and silently where he had last laid eyes on Victoria. There his stained hands unearthed a mass of scorched flesh and bone, many a piece crushed in separation.
The human body had thirty three vertebrae divided into five regions, but Adam only sought out one. He took the surviving sacrum, from the Latin os sacrum meaning holy or sacred bone, as a trophy, a spoil of war or king's guerdon, as it were. In ages long since past, the sacrum was the part of an animal offered in sacrifice. The Greekβs had believed the bone was indestructible. It was thought to be the seat of the human soul. Did Adam mean to possess her soul?...it was curious, but no. There was only one soul which he required possession of, and it had stolen away in the night with his child. The wind rattled the building's desiccated frame as it crumbled with a heaving sough, dousing the dying flames in ash. A single triumphant howl broke off into the starless Stygian sky to join in the chorus of mournful cry's heard round the cityscape. Long live the king.