Every step heavy and long, the sound of her sword being dragged on the muddy ground muffled from the drops of the heavy rain. Wet clothes transparent, revealing her feminine body. Face hidden from the drenched spiky and short dark hair strands. Leaves one wondering what her expression might be. Only a crimson glimpse is visible every now and then by the sudden lightings.
A deep growl vibrating on her chest, her breath visible in the darkness. The ominous aura that surrounds her figure doesn’t leave space for wondering. She is ready to kill and nothing would stop her. Logic pushed and choked by anger, the beast inside her growing more and more uncontrollable with every step, with every thunder.
The rhythmic wobbling of drums reverberating from deep within the forest. Her heart in complete sync, her pulse getting faster and faster. She is hardly controlling her feral instincts from going berserk. She can taste the blood on her lips with a lick already. She seeks it, she craves it. She wants to see them suffering, begging for mercy… and the idea of it is exhilarating. She has spotted her prey and she’s ready to hunt.
The bass beat reverberates against her chest. The red flashing lights of the club are numbing her senses. Jasmine just walked in the club wearing a black dress and high heels. Of course she is not here for entertainment but for a job. She takes a deep breath and lets the confusion settle in. Her senses are very keen so right now she is all over the place, finding hard to concentrate she bites her lower lip. What is this feeling? Amidst the crowd her nose catches an attractive almost alluring scent. It’s driving her crazy. Pushing a few people away from her way she walks towards her new target. Heart beating in a frenzy, not sure if it’s from the music or the mysterious scent. Fingers dig in the soft material that covers her bosom. Black eyelashes hide crimson orbs for a few seconds as she is trying to spot the person who is attracting her unconsciously, she is feeling the scent approaching closer.. and closer…
Suddenly she feels a hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her against a muscled body. Unconsciously hands open in front of her to protect herself from the clash, only to feel the warmth of their torso against her fingertips, their heart beating fast like hers. “..found you…” the man growls against her ear. Her nostrils are full of the sensual scent, eyes open widely to catch a glimpse of white colored hair before the male’s other hand pulls the back of her head against the crook of his neck. The sudden feeling of his lips against her collarbone is driving her crazy, their breath is burning her skin. She lets one hand slide on their shoulder before digging her fingers in this hair, pulling them lightly just enough to get her point across as a result fangs bite her soft skin before they start nibbling on it. A soft moan escapes between her plump ruby colored from the lipstick lips.
The desire she feels for the stranger is primitive, but she is unable to stop it. It’s too late, she has let her animal instinct take over. Unfamiliar lips press together, sucking each other needily as tongues start twirling in a frenzy. They both keep their eyes closed as they have let the beasts inside them take control. The connection is surreal, Jasmine doesn’t want to separate herself from the other. Almost like she needs him for her survival. The pleasure he givers her is surreal, like an addictive drug that she cannot stop taking. Low growls and muffled moans mingle together, suppressed from the loud music. Nothing else matters right now apart from him.
Blood is running down his silver armor… splattered on his fair skin and light hair… dripping from his fingertips and the sword that is the extension of his hand… Blood. Is it his own or does it belong to the lifeless corpses that are laying around him? Chestnut colored eyes with tints of forest green rest on his crimson colored hands. He cannot move, his breath becoming gradually heavier. His vision blurs from sudden tears that run down his cheeks washing off the ruby splatters.
From the distance the deep sound of drums is signaling that the fight is not over. Taking a sharp breath he rubs off with the back of his hand the transparent liquid, smudging together blood and tears. He exhales slowly trying to collect himself and closes his eyes momentarily. There is no time for sentiments. He whistles loudly, and in a few seconds a white horse is running towards him. It is covered in silver armor , the same blue details of the Kingdom Aldo is serving are adorning the saddle. It’s his horse that approaches him head on and with a swift move of his hand he stops the animal that is neighing in a frenzy.
His voice calm and collected like his touch on the muzzle of the animal. It doesn’t take long for it to halt stomping it’s legs on the ground and the young knight with a swift jump rides it. His cape waving behind him gracefully as he stares in the distance with his regained confidence and his fist tightens around the grip of his blood-covered weapon. He has to hold them back whatever the price may be.
it’s almost Winter.
Air… cold. Piercing through an empty unmotivated soul.
What are you doing?
Why are you doing it?
Where are you going?
Why are you not going?
Where is your motivation?
Why don’t you have motivation?
You are a soul, in a body; With a mind and feelings, emotions and senses.
But then again no. You feel soulless. Empty.
And the air continues to pierce through you. And you stand there still. Like a marble statue. Getting old and colder as time passes. The change of the weather and age only visible on your appearance.
Marble. Cold and soulless.
UNWANTED. LONELY. SOLOIST.
This performance called life has been my only and by far the worst performance of myself. Choices made by others, curved my schedule only to end up as disappointments to me and them. Not being able to handle the pressure and their looks; My actions always affected by the worst outcome…
FEAR. TEARS. MISERY.
Unbelievable… You are.
Surprisingly disappointing and selfish to the core. Ready answers to unanswered questions, meaningless and depressing realizations made clear, upon every conversation. Either with you or me. The conversationalist always ending up being the second. What a sad realization.
Maybe, of myself. I didn’t listen to that small voice in the back of my head, warning me.
But, then again;
Should I let myself feel qualms?
Already having found myself in the same situation in the past, my reaction is colder this time. It should be. My vivid crimson ball has been thrown to the ground, in the mud, on the rocks again and again.
Maybe my mistake was who’s hands I trusted it to …
Without a second thought, they threw and kicked my ball far away.
So far away that I have to go fetch it alone, once more; Pick it up with my own two hands and polish it carefully. It will shine again, it always did after I took it in my hands after all. The tears once used to clean the mud have dried up; My intense breathing used to remove the dirt is now serene, And my unsteady heartbeats used to make the color more vivid are now beating in a calm steady rhythm. Instead, a smile curves at the tips of my lips and my eyes shimmer, before the voice whispers again at the back of my head:
“You expected it, right ?”
The smile gets wider, till it turns into a loud laughter.
“You will not do it again in the future, right ?”
I look down at my ball, that has turned into the most vivid and shiniest crimson it had ever been, and I see my smile mirrored on it as it comes to rest on my lips permanently. Excitement fills my little ball, as I trust in the future and I take my first step into the unknown.
I will always listen to the little voice;
However, I cannot help but feel curious, as to how much more shinier my ball can turn into.
He’s some centimeters away from me …
I can’t speak my mind.
I like him but i can’t understand his feelings.
I don’t want to destroy what we have now but i don’t think he values it.
Every time i try to be honest, I put a fraud and gulp everything;
trying to be friendly;
trying not to scare him;
trying to understand him;
trying to be a buddy he can trust.
of ruining the moment.
of ruining our past.
to face his feelings.
of leaving him.
I’m facing him again, asking about nonsense.
He’s not comfortable, so I’ll just pretend I am
and try to convince myself he doesn’t know..
don’t let others define
fate is manipulator of dreams..
don’t let yourself get fooled.
follow your dreams.
YOU and YOUR ACTIONS are the only ones who can accomplish them.
you’ve reached your limit they may say.
do YOU even know your limit?
did you give it your all?
Only one word;
Only one person;
Only one thought;
Only one goal;
may set your emotions and abilities on fire..
the process helps you understand your dream.
YOUR TRUE SELF
don’t let others define YOU.
Every time I finish reading a book I feel sad.
Like my relationship with someone is over; be that friendship or other.
Mixed feelings blossom; accomplishment, happiness, anxiety, sadness.
Until I start reading the next book.
I think that pretty much happens with real people too.
When a relationship doesn’t have any more pages for you to read;
I’m sorry to say that but; It’s over..
Letting you wonder if you gained something by reading it, or you just spent your time…
A good relationship such as a good book will always stay in your memory
and you’ll always compare it with the next that you’ll come upon…