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  1. So I wrote a little thing with Ozzie and Dante. Exploring more of what makes (and doesn't make) Ozzie, Ozzie. Probably won't make much sense and I can't really go into detail as to why this is written how it is but it has made me see Ozzie clearer and the juxtaposition is incredible for me. Hopefully you'll enjoy. I'll post more of these as I do them.

    Study 1: Ozzie and Dante

    “Hey,” Dante grabbed Ozzie by the crook of his willowy arm, “we—we don’t have to do this.” He said, stopping them from rounding the corner, and god was this whole compassion thing annoying, “we can back out if you’re not… cool with it.”

    Ozzie frowned, a barely there twitch of the lips, his eyes roving arbitrarily across the point where Dante’s hand was wrapped around his elbow. He huffed out a breath before coolly looking back up, his mouth settling into something blank. On the face he was wearing, (Samantha Dickens, Dante reminded himself, or rather Samuel wearing Samantha if you were a stickler for details like Ozzie apparently was) with the makeup and lashes and contacts and wigs that distorted and transformed him into something completely different; the expression looked wrong.

    Ozzie rose one of Samantha’s perfect little eyebrows. Or maybe it was Sam lifting an eyebrow like Ozzie. Dante didn’t know. “Does it matter?” He-they-she-asked. Does it matter if I want to leave? Does it matter if I don’t? Does it matter that I’m more comfortable in someone else’s skin than my own?

    “Yes.” To all of the above.

    Ozzie hmm’d. “Then I’m fine,” he brushed off Dante’s grip and took a step back. “Gimmee a sec,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. He pulled the strap of the studded purse off his shoulder and onto the cracked pavement below. Dante could see the muscles in Ozzie’s forehead aching to scrunch into a frown, “let me get in character.”

    Dante nodded, then remembered Ozzie couldn’t see him. “Okay.”

    “Shhh,” Ozzie’s forehead quivered and drooped for a second. “Dammit. Be quiet. Please. You’re going to make me fuck up my make-up.” He said completely deadpan.

    Ozzie waited another moment and when Dante said nothing else, he began. Dante could see it. It started with a simple twisting of the neck. Then it was a shaking of the hands. A breath. An inhalation where Ozzie seemed to make himself seem even smaller, less obtrusive than he was and then he exhaled. He exhaled and Ozzie grew bigger and broader and—

    “Dante, could you be a dear and pick up my bag,” Samantha knocked her palm against her forehead, because either Sam didn’t know about smudgy makeup or she didn’t give a flying fuck. Either way the thing Ozzie had been complaining about two seconds ago didn’t seem to matter all that much now. “God I’m such a clutz aren’t I. I mean I was just walking and bam! there goes my purse, right there on the floor! Don’t even know how it happened! Omg, it’s totally cause I’m blonde isn’t it? Knew I should’ve gone with the red! Everyone loves a ginger!”

    Dante blinked. “Uhh,” he said intelligently.

    “Ohh, fuck it, just you here anyways,” Sam (because at this point Dante really didn’t want to think of Ozzie saying or doing any of the things he was doing and for his own mental stability Dante was just dealing with… Sam… yeah) tittered-tottered?-wobbled?- and bent over grabbing the handle of her purse and was that?


    That ladies and gentleman would be a thong.

    Dante didn’t even want to know the prep that went into making all of that... extra somehow inconspicuous.

    It was going to be a long night.
    Oscar Leigh likes this.
  2. I needed a break from writing, but I still sort of wanted to write so I thought it would be fun to make one of these. Surprise surprise. It was actually a little tougher to put together than I thought. Made me have to think about questions that could fit all the characters. I got Ozzie. I guess it's a bit moot if the author does the quiz though :p Anyway it's 10 questions feel free to do it if you're bored. Only Ozzie has a picture at the end though.

    Oscar Leigh likes this.
  3. Hello all! So as I draw Chapter 2 of Limbo to a close, I decided to make a blog entry explaining some of the thought processes behind symbolism along with a few visuals for those who may be unfamiliar with the layout of churches.


    So first and for most this chapter opens in a church. I use some technical terminology and I'm not changing it because writing "middle aisle" instead of "nave" or "the center of the cross shape of the church" or "the transept" is just. Well it's a lot wordier than it needs to be. So to save you some trouble (and when I post this chapter I'll probably embed the same image) here's the layout for a gothic styled church (which is what this abandoned one is based off, just cause I REALLY like the gothic architecture).


    The internet is hella useful lol. Saves me the trouble of scouring through art-history notes from like 5 years ago and scanning this stuff in. Anyway fun fact, churches at least in the contemporary sense, were always shaped like crosses.


    So this is a bit of a reiteration of a previous blog post, but the description of the "gold circlet" ties to the Revelations verse in which it describes the Locusts of the Abyss or Abaddon having "gold like crowns".

    Revelations 9:7
    On their heads were crowns of something like gold, and their faces were like the faces of men.

    This is why the circlet is gold and they have masks. Since I've obviously taken creative liberties with the Locusts, I decided to make them wear masks for the "faces of men". There's no description of what the mask looks like in this part but that'll come up later.

    Also for anyone who doesn't know:

    Circlet: a circular band, typically one made of precious metal, worn on the head as an ornament.

    Finally there's mention of the masks somehow being painful and drawing blood, clamping, biting etc. This is a tie towards the crown of thorns Jesus was forced to wear. It's also how the masks stay on. Embedded in their skulls. Ouch right? It's a practicality and a punishment. Which will be explained at a later time.

    The Altar

    In one of the previous versions of the story the altar had a very in depth description.

    He’s reached the altar and his fingers grasp at its stone edifice, stroking it. Etchings and markings adorn its surface and in four directions rise four gargoyled visages, their mouths open and expressions locked in varying looks of agonized horror.

    To the north there’s a woman’s face contorted as if in a scream. It’s marble. White. Pure. Pained. Her eyes shine in the green glow of the candles, shadows dancing over it with life like clarity. Next, to the East, is the stone face of a beast, a canine with its fangs bared and its mouth open. The fur on its pelt sticks up as if its hackles are rising in warning, snarling at an invisible enemy.

    A man laments to the south. Carved hands claw at his face. His lips twist down as unruly locks made of obsidian cast a disheveled look over his gaunt cheeks. Finally, to the west is the lamb. Doe eyed and meek it looks out to the wall, but it lacks innocence. Instead in its stone wool is darkness, a perversion of holy order as its neck constricts to the side and its eyes bulge from its sockets in a style reminiscent of the Dark Ages.

    The description of the four statues isn't so much as important as what they are.

    The Lamb: A general sacrifice used in the bible. I've come to associate it with a level of innocence and sinlessness.

    The wolf: The wolf is in this instance the personification of natural chaos. Where the lamb is to be treasured and protected, nurtured the wolf comes as a natural predator to break it.

    John 10:12
    "He who is a hired hand, and not a shepherd, who is not the owner of the sheep, sees the wolf coming, and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.

    The woman and man: These represent Adam and Eve. They represent the original sin and humanity.

    As this is the set of a satanic ritual everything of course is warped, hence the juxtapositions in the the descriptions. It's sort of a double paradox.

    The Mysterious Woman

    Bees have been associated with the spirit world and death. Before the Oracles of Delphi, there was the Melissa (or Melissae),who was a bee goddess. Associated with well a lot of stuff. Suffice it to say there's the birth of souls and Priestesses that would be in an order to protect that type of thing. So fun facts. Take that as you will. Bees have importance mates. Though the origin aint biblical and actually predates most GrecoRoman mythos.
    BruceA and Oscar Leigh like this.
  4. So another segment. My last segment I'll do before going to bed. I was sort of inspired to do this thanks to Oscar needing clarification as to something Oz- err I wrote AS Ozzie in another discussion on the Forum. (By the way y'all should check it out. It's the ask your MC a question discussion. Great for character building.)
    I like the idea of making this anthology. It's not really spoilers since the first chapter will show that the story is an Urban Fantasy so It's cool with me. Other segments in this series will be from other stories I have either sitting on the backburner in my head or started and waiting to continue for different reasons.


    The World: So the story of Limbo is set in modern day LA. But that's not all that it encompasses. Inside this metropolis are the supernatural, and with it come layers of reality. This story is HEAVILY influenced by the Book of Revelations, so most parts of the supernatural are derived from parts of the Bible.

    Sheol: The Sheol is the blanket term for the world between Heaven, Hell, and Earth. In the bible it's a place the dead congregated before they're eventual release to Heaven when Jesus took the keys of death from Lucifer. From my understanding it's different from Purgatory/Limbo and Hell. Hence why I decided to use it as the World Between Worlds.

    The Veil: The Veil has no direct connotation with the Bible it's merely the term used to describe the barrier separating the fabrics of reality.

    Key Terms:

    Shifting: A term used by Cambi able to cross the Veil.

    Walkers: Humans with no demonic or angelic blood that can phase through the Veil. They're said to be Walking, not Shifting.

    Phaser: An enchanted object used for instantaneous Shifting. All Cambi can Shift, but only Walkers, Manipulators (see Talents) and full blooded Demon/Angels can do it at without assistance or a lot of preparation. It's why generally speaking Cambi stay in the Sheol or stay on Earth, it's just too much of a hassle to do both.

    Cambi: Humans with demonic blood. It's a term derived from Cambion which is the offspring of an Incubus/Succubus and a human. Closest thing I could find outside of Nephilim that fit a devi/demi-human.

    Talents: The term used by the Cambi to describe their powers. Talents are the closest thing to magic in the story that humans can come to without divine interference. Talents are derived from the seven deadly sins. Manipulators are the strongest Cambi and have limited control over all seven branches of Talents. Example: In Chapter 1: Clarence's Talent is said to be Seduction which is taken from the sin of Lust.

    Also each Talent manifests itself differently. Hence varying descriptions in its appearance. Example:

    Clarence's Manifestation

    So, Clarence had scrawled the name, minus all well meaning expletives, across the back of the photo in his neat slanted print. His jaw tensed. His hand drummed agitatedly against the counter top. The air around him shimmered like glass and Clarence sniffed, the picture crinkling in his fist.
    "Temper Clare." The stool beside him scraped out and Clarence frowned, looking across to the blonde haired lady standing eye level to him,"your Talent is showing. You're drawing attention to us." She sat down, pushing a stray lock behind her ear and pulling her ponytail daintly over her shoulder. "Try to be more subtle." Like me.
    Clarence grimaced. "I wouldn't call you subtle either Lydia." He said with a nod towards the tight red strapless dress she was wearing. Nevertheless he took a deep breath and reined his Talent in. The kaleidoscope of refractive air dissipated back into nothing. Clarence waved down the bartender. "What's you're poison?"

    Lydia's Manifestation

    Clarence scowled and reached under the collar of his shirt, pulling out what looked like a really cheap charm necklace, complete with rusted paperclips and random bottle caps. He held it out to her.
    "Aww," Lydia snorted. "And what's this? You're attempt at being part of the 'in' crowd?" She sipped contemplatively at her second drink, "what do the kids call it nowadays? Being 'metal'?"
    "It's a Phaser," Clarence continued as if she really hadn't know. "He's not going to be Walking away that easily."
    "Oh joy,” she said, inspecting the necklace in the palm of her hand. She waved her free one above it, the tell tale crackle of her Talent the only warning Clarence got before they both, along with the space between them, disappeared. It was the strangest thing to watch. It only lasted a second, but in that second it was as if Lydia had never had hands, like his mind temporarily deleted the knowledge. Like it was completely normal for her to be missing them. “Who made this?" She asked when her hands reappeared. She shook them out while setting the Phaser on the counter. "You’ve got a one pump chump. This is only going to get you through the Veil one way. In. Or Out. Not both.”

    The Order of the Locusts

    The Locusts come from Revelations 9 and are led by Toni.

    Fifth Trumpet: The Locusts from the Bottomless Pit
    9 Then the fifth angel sounded: And I saw a star fallen from heaven to the earth. To him was given the key to the bottomless pit. 2 And he opened the bottomless pit, and smoke arose out of the pit like the smoke of a great furnace. So the sun and the air were darkened because of the smoke of the pit. 3 Then out of the smoke locusts came upon the earth. And to them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power. 4 They were commanded not to harm the grass of the earth, or any green thing, or any tree, but only those men who do not have the seal of God on their foreheads. 5 And they were not given authority to kill them, but to torment them for five months. Their torment was like the torment of a scorpion when it strikes a man. 6 In those days men will seek death and will not find it; they will desire to die, and death will flee from them.

    7 The shape of the locusts was like horses prepared for battle. On their heads were crowns of something like gold, and their faceswere like the faces of men. 8 They had hair like women’s hair, and their teeth were like lions’ teeth. 9 And they had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was like the sound of chariots with many horses running into battle. 10 They had tails like scorpions, and there were stings in their tails. Their powerwas to hurt men five months. 11 And they had as king over them the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in Hebrew isAbaddon, but in Greek he has the name Apollyon.

    The Locusts were for me extremely fun to work into the story because obviously they're not looking like beetled, scorpion horse lions, but the concept of them, a holy TORTURE unit I found appealing. This gave me a lot of freedom in how to colour their morals and just exactly who (backstory wise) could be considered a candidate for their ranks. The Locusts keep the balance. They do good where needed in the typical sense and have no problems slitting throats when needed. Kind of Punisher style.


    The Locusts themselves always work in pairs and are always recruited at the brink of death. Usually Locusts are people who after a life time of bad died doing something heroic or good to end their lives showing them to be people unafraid to do the morally black or gray thing in order to achieve the greater good. Locusts are all originally humans. They give up their humanity for a new eternal life that can only be ended in battle (this was more so inspired by Artemis and the Wild Hunt).

    Tools of the Locust

    Locusts are given enhanced speed, strength, agility, reflexes, the degree in which they are enhanced depending on the person. Also their arsenal for weapons, which ranges from the medieval to modern. It's all in personal preference. The thing that makes Locusts uniform are their outfits and the mask. It's a circlet that when placed on the head, embeds itself and elongates into a face obscuring piece that allows Locusts to communicate telepathically. When wearing the mask Locusts cant speak. When wearing the mask Locusts can move freely through the Sheol.

    Characters and Their Status

    Ozzie: Main Character
    Race: Human
    Abilities: Psychometry (the ability to read the past through objects), Empathy, and Touch (the ability to remove the sensation of pain or introduce it through his touch)

    James: Over protective Best friend
    Race: Human
    Abilities: Clint whisperer (the only one able to deal with Clint for extended periods of time and reign him in when he inevitably goes off on a tangent)

    Clint: James' eccentric friend
    Race: Human
    Abilities: Being fabulous.

    LayLay: Hot ginger Actress in a movie with James
    Race: Cambi
    Talent: Wrath

    Dante: Pink haired asshole DJ
    Race: Human
    Abilities: He's a Walker. and Shadow (Due to unknown circumstances Dante is able to control his shadow)

    Dodge: Tall, blonde and intimidating
    Race: Locust
    Abilities: Locust abilities. Knows the Language of the Heavens.

    Newt: Level-headed partner to Dodge
    Race: Locust
    Abilities: Locust abilities. Has an unusually high resistance towards Talents

    Toni: A strong independent black woman who's Ozzie's legal guardian
    Race: Fallen Angel
    Abilities: You dont wanna know
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  5. Hi all. So this is my first blog entry. So yeah. This is my dump for all things "Rejected" well. Minus full chapters. Cause that'd probably get a bit much (though I probably will take exerpts from them). I thought it would be cool to have this because everyone has parts that they sorta liked but didn't like enough so they cut. But then later you're like "what was that one thing I deleted?" Cause it was sort of relevant in a character personality kind of way. Anyway. Here they are. Rejected Scenes:

    1) Bike Porn (Cut from Chapter: "1")

    The following excerpt is not porn. And does not involve sex on said object. It just reads REALLY sexually. Replace the bike with a person and it's kind of steamy. So I deleted it. Cause I don't want to be known as the bike fucker.

    Ozzie let out a puff of sea rich air, the anxious knot in his stomach fading as he began to ride. There was something soothing in the action. For Ozzie, the simple but repetitive movement of circling feet to circling calves to circling thighs to sinuously tight muscles set him free. The slow burn as his body curved itself over the seat and handlebars; it made him forget, at least for a little while.

    2) Meet Toni and James (Excerpt from Ver 3. of Chapter 1)

    So this is from the version of this story directly before the current one. This version was written in present tense. Anyway yeah. How Toni and James were not quite originally written. (Especially since Toni was originally Tony who is now Clint in this current version). Toni's character is particularly hard to write. She's a balance between old and full of wisdom but youthful as well. I felt especially in this version that she came across as more like a sister than an actual guardian towards Ozzie. This is such a blast from the past.

    “Toni,” James says as he strides into the bookstore, “I’m borrowing Ozzie.”
    Toni looks up, uncrossing her legs and tossing the newspaper resting between her manicured fingers carelessly onto the counter beside her. She drums her hand against the glass top, a hand on her hip and a slim smirk on the bow of her lips. “And what if I say no?”
    “You won’t,” James is grinning, barely contained excitement rolling off of him in waves. She can see it dancing in bright Technicolor pink between the shifts of his feet and feel it beneath the steady, fast staccato beat of his pulse just under the surface of his skin.
    Toni pops her jaw, her tongue running over one of her suddenly aching incisors and walks behind the counter, a rich heady aroma unrelated to the books stacked in neat wooden shelves around them wafting into the air as she props her head in her right hand. "And dare say, darling, why would I say yes?” She idly clicks open the cash register’s drawer.
    “Because,” James leans across the display, “I got Ozzie an audition.”
    Toni blinks and looks up sharply at that, “You what?!” She hisses. She has to bite back the groan building in the back of her throat, “He’s never going to say yes.”
    “Which is why I’m not going to tell him. Where we’re going that is.”
    “That—” Toni pinches her forehead between two of her chocolate toned fingers, “Sounds like a stupendously stupid idea.”
    “How else do you plan on getting him to come?” He laughs, “Besides weren’t you complaining about him not doing anything but working here at the bookstore?" James frowns. "He’s not even going to school anymore.”
    Toni can feel the headache growing, throbbing between the space behind her eyes, and she purses her lips. She sighs. "He's nineteen James, he can do what he wants."
    “I know!" James winces and starts again, "Sorry. It's just. I know that. I know he’s going through a hard time right now and—god,” James makes a noncommittal noise, pulling at his raven curls, “he’s my best friend you know? I want to help him, its sucks to see him like this. Like, really sucks, besides,” he says, eyes straying towards the gaudy emerald ring on his left pinky, “I get what he’s going through.”
    Toni furrows her brow. “Fine,” she says sourly, curling a finger around one of the shifting blue-red strands of emotion coiling around his body. Toni picks up the newspaper, snapping it back up with a deft flick of her wrist and sits back down on the stool behind her, “take him," she says from behind her paper curtain, "just don’t say I didn’t warn you honey.”
    James beams, the sickly sweet honey-like aroma Toni’s come to equate solely as James billowing through the air. “You’re a saint, Toni.”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she drawls, voice slightly muffled by the newspaper, “A saint is much too vanilla for my tastes. Consider me your queen,” she folds down the top of the newspaper as she turns the page, “you’re obviously my bitch.”

    3) Meet Ozzie and James (From Ver 2)

    Okay so this is a version of the start of the story that will probably actually make a reappearance at some point as an explanatory chapter and some good old fashioned flashback. So I guess it's not really rejected so much as it is set on the back burner. I really enjoyed writing this bit, but decided that it would make the actual plot take too long to start for my liking. (Note Ozzie and James are about 3 years younger in this version)

    It was August. Late in the month and hot. A time where the edges of summer and fall met, blurring together like the shimmering surface of a desert’s heat. The colors seemed to vibrate in anticipation of the coming season, waiting to explode in a flurry of reds and oranges and vibrant yellows. Already the grass was turning a warm honey gold and the leaves were tinging just the slightest bit red.
    Ozzie brought the joint back up to his lips, inhaling slowly and seeing the faint copper glow light up the tip. He held it for a beat, feeling the smoke slip smoothly down into his lungs before exhaling and passing it on. He grinned. That was good stuff. His body slumped back against the balcony wall.
    The smoke curled in the air, dipping upwards between his pursed lips. It was James’ idea to do this, sporting a fresh new tan and bag full of weed courtesy of his stint in Los Angeles. His most recent film had just finished shooting and he’d decided what the heck, let’s pay Ozzie a visit. Ozzie vaguely remembered James saying something about this being the last week of Ozzie’s summer vacation and to take proper advantage of it as he’d sauntered into his room and flopped--fell--onto Ozzie’s bed.
    James’ body was a long strip of sluggish arms and uncoordinated feet so Ozzie couldn’t really say he’d been surprised when his friend had tripped during the two step journey across the room. Classic James. Able to make teenage girls swoon without a word in a movie but barely able to cross a street on his own in real life.
    Still Ozzie wouldn't complain. He wouldn't. In all honesty it was one of the few things that still made him smile. It wasn’t really like James had any other reason to come back to their boring middle of nowhere town in Northern California except for him. The thought made him grin even more dopily.
    It’d been awhile since he’d been able to do this. Relax. He felt loose-limbed and content and something else, something close to happy.
    James took a hit. His cheeks dimpled and his eyes crossed a bit as he tried looking at the joint between his fingers. His brow wrinkled. Ozzie wanted to reach over and smooth his hand across it. No one should look so serious when they were getting high. Even he was grinning. James breathed out and chuckled in Ozzie’s direction, his ebony curls bouncing with the movement.
    James tilted his head to the side.
    “Wa’s so funny?” Ozzie slurred.
    James grinned. “Your face,” he drawled, voice slow and low and even. It reminded Ozzie of someone thinking really hard about what they were going to say next. And not in a I’m-thinking-of-the-most-diplomatic-response kind of way but in a legitimate sort of I-have-no-idea-what-I’m-trying-to-say-so-let’s-just-say-it-real-slow-like-so-they-won’t-notice kind of way. James handed the joint back to Ozzie. “You look like you need to take a shit.”
    “Ay,” Ozzie took back the joint and gave his friend the finger. His cheeks hollowed as he blew a smoke ring in his friend’s face, “fuck you man.”
    James held his hands up in surrender. “What?! You do!”
    “Yeah?” Ozzie rolled his eyes and took another hit from the joint before slouching back against the wall, “well whatever.” He looked down at the joint between his fingers. The end was burning dangerously close to his fingertips. “You gonna finish this? Or…?” He left the question hanging in the air.
    “Nah, you can,” James said with a wave of his hand, “I can get more back in L.A.”
    Ozzie snorted, “fuckin’ movie star.”
    “Don’t hate just ‘cause you’re jealous man.”
    Ozzie took one last long hit from the joint and stubbed it out on the ground beside him. He brushed his hair out of his face, the stringy black locks moving across his forehead and out of his honey coloured eyes. He raised an eyebrow in James’ direction, leveling him with his most deadpan look.
    “What?” James blinked, “don’t give me that look.”
    The corners of Ozzie’s lips twitched upwards and he rubbed his thumb across them, like the action could somehow hide the grin growing there. His stubble felt rough against his finger. Sighing, he slid down to the balcony floor, his hair fanning out around his face. His arms mirrored the movement.
    “So,” James cleared his throat, expression suddenly serious, “how was school this semester?”
    Ozzie tensed. “Fine.” He shrugged.
    James turned to fully face him. “You know if people are giving you hard time again—”
    “Things’re okay, ‘kay?” Ozzie flipped onto his side, lips pulling together in a taut line, “you don’t need to worry about me.”
    James frowned. “I know, but after last year—”
    “It’s done okay?!” Ozzie bit out, “My dad helped me through it, explained some stuff to me, and Sam’s been a real help with the whole low self-esteem thing. Just drop it.”
    James opened and closed his mouth before nodding and running a hand through his hair. “Okay...” he said, “just know I got you okay? If you need it? Even when I’m in L.A. I’m just a call away.”
    “I know,” Ozzie hugged his knees to his chest. A pause, “M’ sorry.” He mumbled.
    “It’s ‘kay,” he scooted closer to Ozzie and wrapped an arm loosely around his shoulder. “What’re friends for huh?”
    This, Ozzie couldn’t help but think. It would be so easy to just tell James the truth. Especially in this moment, with the sun setting and the last of the summer heat dissipating into fall. All of his feelings low and calm and mellow.

    4) Murder of a really unfortunate virgin (Prologue Ver. 1)

    So this scene was from the original prologue. Now I'ts just cut entirely and saved less as something to read but a reference to the scenes that mention this moment. I just really didn't like how it read so yeah. Gone Poof.

    Shnksh! The knife slices across Jonathan Burtrans chest with a slick, wet sound. He gasps, stumbling back a few surprised steps as blood, crimson and warm, spreads between his gloved fingers.
    “Who’s there?!” He calls, hissing in pain while sticking a leather clad finger in his mouth. Thmp! Thmp! Thmp! Thmp! His pupils dilate. A soft moan escapes his lips as the salty taste of blood hits his tongue. It settles deep in his bones. Craving mixing with desire. It’s a heat in the pit of his stomach. It coils. It rages. It tenses.
    The beast clambers for more.
    Distantly he hears the high metallic ring of the blade as it clangs against one of the metal candelabra’s surrounding the altar but he shoves the sound aside, focusing past it as the blood enters his system. Thmp! Thmp! Thmp! Thmp! He feels his muscles tensing, his pulse rising, his vision and hearing sharpening to vivid clarity— Jonathan licks his lips, the heartbeat in his ears steady and dripping with life.
    He wants it. Oh how he wants it. Wants it like he may die without it. An evil grin lights his features; one that seems eerily predatory and shark like, with menacing eyes and jagged teeth. Snakelike slits now devoid of any human emotion peer into the darkness, daring his shrouded adversary to come closer. The candles flicker around him, their light having dimmed in the wake of the ritual’s interruption and Jonathan pulls the hood away from his face.
    It’s startling, his countenance, bald and eerily pale to the point of translucence. His gums are cracked and bleeding and his eyes glow in time with the flames as drops of blood drip from the creases of his fingers to the floor. Thmp! Thmp! Thmp! Thmp!
    “Who’s there?!” He calls again into the subdued darkness. He feels no fear. He’d be foolish to fear the wrath of human. And if it happens to be a pair of young Locusts full of noble dreams and crippling morality—jumping twixt his rafters in the dead of night—well…
    Jonathan laughs darkly, his robe bunching haphazardly around the soles of his feet. He takes a step back and feels the moment he crosses back into the circle. The ground is rough and uneven, tile giving way to dirt and gravel. His stomach drops; his vision blurs. It’s a sick sense of relief and a warped stirring in the air; a taste like bitter caramel and over-ripe fruit. Immediately the candles begin to glow a diseased green. Their light flares up to touch the dilapidated ceiling of the “chapel”.

    And that's all I'll share for now. I mean. If anyone reads this apologies lol. Probably most of this won't make much sense, but hopefully you'll get some enjoyment from it.
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