It had been many months since Faelion had first tasted a poison that would forever curse him, many weeks since he left his Clan out of spite for the luckier ones, and days since since he last had contact with any one person. He had secluded himself, locked away in an abandoned house, only leaving for food, water, and fel.
Faelion exhaled harshly, beads of sweat dripping down his face. Green liquid dripping from his blade. All around was darkness, only two figures seemed to illuminate what was around them, yet the floor, walls, and sky were black. Smirking casually Faelion slid his blade out from the figure's face. The demon, falling onto it's back as Faelion raised his blade above him. Allowing gravity to force the green liquid down the blade. The drops fell, but disappeared in a breeze before they reached his ajar mouth. He blinked his eyes open, only to narrow them at his blade. The blood was indeed gone, but it had not reached his mouth. It had entirely disappeared, he had looked down to the slain imp. It laid lifeless on the ground, Faelion picked it up by it's leg. Holding it upside down, he used his sword to cut open the imp's neck. Letting it's blood drip out casually, he quickly maneuvers a canteen under the imp to catch the blood. As the canteen fills, Faelion licks his lips, a devious smirk still pushed onto his face. After the canteen fills, he tosses the imp's carcass aside, it disappearing into the ground.
Faelion's hands began to shake lightly as he rose the canteen up into the air, allowing gravity to pull the liquid down into his mouth in copious amounts. He blinked his eyes open as he pulled the canteen back down harshly. He inspected it, even tilting it over and pouring some of the liquid inside onto the palm of his hand. It was there, in his hand, it felt as if it was there, yet it had not taste. He could neither taste, nor feel it slither down his throat. Faelion's eyes widened as a revelation entered his mind.
His eyes sprung open as fast as lightning, he gasped for air as if had not breathed in years, beads of sweat ran down his forehead as if he had just taken a dip in a pool... He slowly pushed himself up, looking around quickly, carefully, and cautiously. He had thought back, eventually blurting out... "It wasn't enough..." Quickly he kicked his blanket off himself, getting up and shakily stumbling over to a chest kept at the corner of the room. Stumbling with his hands, eventually the chest was opened. A faint green light suddenly illuminating the room, as quickly as it came it went out. Faelion stood up, a single vial in hand, uncorking the top it was quickly guzzled down. It was unbelievable, eyes widening, he facepalmed. Words silently escaped his lips. "It's not...enough..." Inhaling and exhaling shakily, he fell to his knees. The chest opening and closing, yet another vial less. It was guzzled down nearly as fast as the last one. A sigh of sadness, Faelion raised his hand to his hair, pulling on his hair. "...When -will- it be enough?"
Getting up, Faelion made his way to a window. Looking out into the swamp and only seeing darkness in return. The silent sounds of critters reached his ear, the moonlight barely piercing through the treetops lit up his face. A single drop hitting the windowsill. Vials on the ground, Faelion's eyes shone through the window. Eventually they disappeared, as he moved back to his bed. A backpack finding its way to Faelion's hands. Rummaging and ruffling are the only sounds escaping his shelter as a book entered his hands. Flipping open the pages, a pen found it's way to a page.
On it read.
The book was slowly closed, the writing utensil slipped between the pages. Everything was put back into the backpack and slid under the bed. Faelion yawned, no longer shaky he slipped back into his bed under the covers, his eyes wide-open as he laid there there the rest of night. Refusing to fall back asleep.
Faelion exhaled harshly, beads of sweat dripping down his face. Green liquid dripping from his blade. All around was darkness, only two figures seemed to illuminate what was around them, yet the floor, walls, and sky were black. Smirking casually Faelion slid his blade out from the figure's face. The demon, falling onto it's back as Faelion raised his blade above him. Allowing gravity to force the green liquid down the blade. The drops fell, but disappeared in a breeze before they reached his ajar mouth. He blinked his eyes open, only to narrow them at his blade. The blood was indeed gone, but it had not reached his mouth. It had entirely disappeared, he had looked down to the slain imp. It laid lifeless on the ground, Faelion picked it up by it's leg. Holding it upside down, he used his sword to cut open the imp's neck. Letting it's blood drip out casually, he quickly maneuvers a canteen under the imp to catch the blood. As the canteen fills, Faelion licks his lips, a devious smirk still pushed onto his face. After the canteen fills, he tosses the imp's carcass aside, it disappearing into the ground.
Faelion's hands began to shake lightly as he rose the canteen up into the air, allowing gravity to pull the liquid down into his mouth in copious amounts. He blinked his eyes open as he pulled the canteen back down harshly. He inspected it, even tilting it over and pouring some of the liquid inside onto the palm of his hand. It was there, in his hand, it felt as if it was there, yet it had not taste. He could neither taste, nor feel it slither down his throat. Faelion's eyes widened as a revelation entered his mind.
His eyes sprung open as fast as lightning, he gasped for air as if had not breathed in years, beads of sweat ran down his forehead as if he had just taken a dip in a pool... He slowly pushed himself up, looking around quickly, carefully, and cautiously. He had thought back, eventually blurting out... "It wasn't enough..." Quickly he kicked his blanket off himself, getting up and shakily stumbling over to a chest kept at the corner of the room. Stumbling with his hands, eventually the chest was opened. A faint green light suddenly illuminating the room, as quickly as it came it went out. Faelion stood up, a single vial in hand, uncorking the top it was quickly guzzled down. It was unbelievable, eyes widening, he facepalmed. Words silently escaped his lips. "It's not...enough..." Inhaling and exhaling shakily, he fell to his knees. The chest opening and closing, yet another vial less. It was guzzled down nearly as fast as the last one. A sigh of sadness, Faelion raised his hand to his hair, pulling on his hair. "...When -will- it be enough?"
Getting up, Faelion made his way to a window. Looking out into the swamp and only seeing darkness in return. The silent sounds of critters reached his ear, the moonlight barely piercing through the treetops lit up his face. A single drop hitting the windowsill. Vials on the ground, Faelion's eyes shone through the window. Eventually they disappeared, as he moved back to his bed. A backpack finding its way to Faelion's hands. Rummaging and ruffling are the only sounds escaping his shelter as a book entered his hands. Flipping open the pages, a pen found it's way to a page.
On it read.
Quote:Dear Faelion,
I had a dream, but it was a nightmare not a dream... It's all thanks to my addiction. I hate what happened it's not fair. I suffer day in and day out for what? What I am put through, and others complain about their lives being so hard. Walk a day in my shoes, walk a life in my shoes! No one knows anything. The worse part is, I'm slipping... I know I am, my dreams make it prominent. It's not enough, I've realized that. But what is enough? When will it stop? I know the answer, but I'm afraid to realize it. Why must I go through this alone? Why was I abandoned, who knows? Why are others lucky, and I am cursed? Why am I never answered, but always questioned? I know the answers, I know I do! But why can't I convince myself! It's others, it's always others who hold me back or question my ability to control, but it's others who help me and keep me alive. It's been so long since I've been in contact with others. I've gotten along just fine though. I'm sure I have, I'm still alive... But these nightmares, I'm afraid to go back to sleep...
Sincerely,
Eef
The book was slowly closed, the writing utensil slipped between the pages. Everything was put back into the backpack and slid under the bed. Faelion yawned, no longer shaky he slipped back into his bed under the covers, his eyes wide-open as he laid there there the rest of night. Refusing to fall back asleep.