Not Enough (Closed)

  • Kross

    Kross (100)

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    Member
    Gender:
    Age:
    21
    Location:
    United States
    The tiny village bore a mentality more stagnant and robust than the mountain rock it lived on. Years of tradition, passed down among families and friends, never changing and never questioned. Outside the rocky walls, however, deep in the frosted woods, lie things beyond their imagination--things that are much closer than they ever could have thought.
    May 4th, 2018 at 06:26pm
  • Kross

    Kross (100)

    :
    Member
    Gender:
    Age:
    21
    Location:
    United States
    He didn't want to. Though he had never found himself thinking things akin to this before, at this moment, the fawn was beautiful and free. It moved with callow steps, light brown and speckled with white, mirroring the scattered flakes of snow upon the leaves. It was completely unaware of his presence, and that made it all the worse. With blissful ignorance, it dug away at the hardened earth.

    With a misty breath, Leon attempted to gather more energy, morphing it together in a tight, pulsating ball in the center of his chest. He had been doing this for hours, sitting upon a freezing heap of moss, digging his naked fingers and toes into the ground, deep in meditation. He pulled energy from the trees and grass, the rocks and dirt, and even chilled wisps from the wind. Though his conscious mind defied it to the ends of its strength, it was the unconscious parts--the heart and soul--that voiced the inner workings of his blood and body. The growing monster in his chest let out the brutal pleas that drifted through the frigid air, and it was he who had slowly summoned the fawn. Young, healthy, and full of life--just what the monster needed.

    His icy eyes locked onto the deer, unmoving. Leon slowly unwrapped the stained gauze from both of his arms, revealing pale, white, horrendously scarred flesh. From shoulders to palms there were crude slashes, red and crusted, pink and healing, puffy white scars, and smears of dried blood. With another deep breath, he procured a small knife from his pocket, never breaking eye-contact with the fawn, and sliced another cut into the top of his right arm. Blood instantly began to trickle downwards, the warmth feeling almost like a blanket against the colder surroundings. As droplets fell, Leon broke the ball of energy inside of him and sent it flying in shards to the fawn. Almost instantly its eyes glossed over, and slowly it began to walk towards him, entranced.

    He could feel the fawn's own energy, rapid and hot, bouncing like a child. It crept close to him, merging with Leon's own, and felt so close despite the animal still being steps away. Leon began muttering whispers under his breath and made another small cut on his arm. This time, however, a gash of equal size began to form on the fawn's neck. It fumbled in its step and looked as if it would run away, but as Leon's shoulders tensed, his focus intensified and kept it intact. It was like standing in a field of mist so thick you were forced to wade; drowning without fear of death.

    In his mind's eye, he could see their blood as individual living creatures, red bodies that move in grotesque ways and forcefully merged, and before he knew it the fawn was at his arm, lapping the blood off his arm with its tiny tongue. Slowly, as if underwater, his hand launched forwards, pale fingers digging into the open wound on its neck. Leon took in one long deep breath, and blood drew from the fawn's neck and began traveling up his own arm, merging with his cut. Their blood cycled between their bodies as the fawn's legs slowly began to tremble, while Leon's veins bulged and, despite the ugly act he was doing, he looked more human than before.

    Time passed and the fawn became nothing short of a skeleton, gray and faded until its feeble legs snapped, and it fell to the ground, all while Leon's eyes gleamed with blissful ignorance, youth, health, and life.

    His newfound energy was the definition of refreshing, yet he forced himself to stifle it. Guilt fought against the joyous feelings he was forced to experienced, and his head felt divided. But the monster was fed and put to sleep, where he would hopefully stay for many more moons.

    After burying his fallen victim, Leon rose to his feet for the first time in hours, walked to a river, and tried to wash.
    May 7th, 2018 at 02:46am