06-12-2015, 04:44 AM
Stagnant air chilled with the friction that had been created by the two psychic fiends. Behemoth wondered if this alone would asphyxiate the girl's freshly waking body. Her head had now turned to him in an acute greeting, but her expressions were not her own. The ricochet of glass echoed in his mind as he wondered what real resource he had to base the truth. The price would be much higher than a damp shoe, for today, the due consequence could mean his life.
The thrall's eyes resembled that of a deathly raven's when it spoke through the girl's unwavering lips. The shadow had swept the room with carnivorous eyes and picked apart Behemoth's habits, stains, and usual tread marks, both analyzing and deducing his character with ease. However the real damage was wrought when Behemoth's true yet never-ending home was revealed, and his same sick yet boastful hope clattered into lifeless fragments.
It wouldn't be as easy as he had originally planned, for Behemoth, master of minds, seemed to be meeting someone who might just prove to be his match.
The thrall inside Millie had been admiring Behemoth's cage when out lashed an undeniably true comment. To what did the shadow refer? Was it the tally marks on the walls etched in golden lines, or the meaningful words he had scribbled with more reason than just to pass the time?
Behemoth didn't like guesswork, it made him uncomfortable, his insides twisted with the unrelenting force of utter disgust as he recognized the thrall - who continued to use Millie's lips to form words - perhaps preferred for Behemoth to think the shadow's empty mind control meant it was incapable of speaking to its opposition in thought. It would soon learn that a tactic like that didn't work for an enemy that was already on guard, and the monster's suspicion only grew.
"Enough with the pleasantries." Behemoth demanded after feeling the ringing sting of insult. For he too, had his pride.
"To be scolded by a mere apparition, at least I have a head of my own. Give me the girl, or else I will take her by force." Hopefully the words would be enough to rattle the shadow that dwelled in her vessel for a short while. Behemoth was never straight forward, but planted in his statement was a test for the shadow who might be caught on his false bluff.
Behemoth would have preferred not to do it, but it seemed he had no choice. Staring at the simplistic girl while he cocked his head to the side in a squint, he saw his own forlorn hope in her visage. The shadow spoke with Millie's delicate, feminine voice and seemed to have complete control of her body, nor could Behemoth glimpse into the part of her mind where the real girl dwelled. He was left in darkness, left to solve the delusive unknown just as she, and he could only imagine the pain. Effortlessly, the man resolved to put her out of her misery - as that was the humane thing to do during the trials of torture - and reached to pull out a chair. Resting in its crimson, velvet seat-cushion laid a six-chamber revolver.
He almost reached for it, yet the shining drops trailing over Millie's bloodstained cheeks assured him that the girl - no matter how crippled - was still in there, and that playtime was over.
Haunting his thoughts was the insane futility of it all. Yet he would follow through and purge her from the darkness he had once lived in for eternity, even if it meant he was to succumb to the same oblivion once more. Suspense coated the air with the ferocious bite of fire, time hung as a distant outlier, and the heart beating in his chest wouldn't stop pumping the endless rush of blood.
If the shadow desired to know what the man was capable of, threatening the girl's life would be just another token, a manipulator's way of upping the ante. Incentive, if only to motivate him more. The edge of shared air was sharper than that of a steel blade, Behemoth felt the cold analytical stare graze him with ice. He was convinced of the shadow's probing thirst to see him squirm.
Each creature held their own innate intention and as their eyes met, both let an unspoken challenge leave their sealed lips, and both agreed
Neither would back down.
The thrall's eyes resembled that of a deathly raven's when it spoke through the girl's unwavering lips. The shadow had swept the room with carnivorous eyes and picked apart Behemoth's habits, stains, and usual tread marks, both analyzing and deducing his character with ease. However the real damage was wrought when Behemoth's true yet never-ending home was revealed, and his same sick yet boastful hope clattered into lifeless fragments.
It wouldn't be as easy as he had originally planned, for Behemoth, master of minds, seemed to be meeting someone who might just prove to be his match.
The thrall inside Millie had been admiring Behemoth's cage when out lashed an undeniably true comment. To what did the shadow refer? Was it the tally marks on the walls etched in golden lines, or the meaningful words he had scribbled with more reason than just to pass the time?
Behemoth didn't like guesswork, it made him uncomfortable, his insides twisted with the unrelenting force of utter disgust as he recognized the thrall - who continued to use Millie's lips to form words - perhaps preferred for Behemoth to think the shadow's empty mind control meant it was incapable of speaking to its opposition in thought. It would soon learn that a tactic like that didn't work for an enemy that was already on guard, and the monster's suspicion only grew.
"Enough with the pleasantries." Behemoth demanded after feeling the ringing sting of insult. For he too, had his pride.
"To be scolded by a mere apparition, at least I have a head of my own. Give me the girl, or else I will take her by force." Hopefully the words would be enough to rattle the shadow that dwelled in her vessel for a short while. Behemoth was never straight forward, but planted in his statement was a test for the shadow who might be caught on his false bluff.
Behemoth would have preferred not to do it, but it seemed he had no choice. Staring at the simplistic girl while he cocked his head to the side in a squint, he saw his own forlorn hope in her visage. The shadow spoke with Millie's delicate, feminine voice and seemed to have complete control of her body, nor could Behemoth glimpse into the part of her mind where the real girl dwelled. He was left in darkness, left to solve the delusive unknown just as she, and he could only imagine the pain. Effortlessly, the man resolved to put her out of her misery - as that was the humane thing to do during the trials of torture - and reached to pull out a chair. Resting in its crimson, velvet seat-cushion laid a six-chamber revolver.
He almost reached for it, yet the shining drops trailing over Millie's bloodstained cheeks assured him that the girl - no matter how crippled - was still in there, and that playtime was over.
Haunting his thoughts was the insane futility of it all. Yet he would follow through and purge her from the darkness he had once lived in for eternity, even if it meant he was to succumb to the same oblivion once more. Suspense coated the air with the ferocious bite of fire, time hung as a distant outlier, and the heart beating in his chest wouldn't stop pumping the endless rush of blood.
If the shadow desired to know what the man was capable of, threatening the girl's life would be just another token, a manipulator's way of upping the ante. Incentive, if only to motivate him more. The edge of shared air was sharper than that of a steel blade, Behemoth felt the cold analytical stare graze him with ice. He was convinced of the shadow's probing thirst to see him squirm.
Each creature held their own innate intention and as their eyes met, both let an unspoken challenge leave their sealed lips, and both agreed
Neither would back down.
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus