Carpe Obscurum
Chapter One
I am Emily Hunter, and this is the story of my life after death. Let me set the record straight as I have, in all actuality, been wrongfully accused. You see, I was guilty of those crimes, but the people that I had chosen were not “innocent” by any means.
They were guilty of numerous crimes. Crimes that supersede our worldly laws. They were guilty of crimes of sin. The seven deadly, as a matter of fact.
At an early age, I was told that I possessed the gift to sense these evildoers, and it was my duty, when I reached the age of twenty, to dispose of these people. My mother before me, and my grandmother before her, were charged with the same, sacred duty.
They were never caught, because they’d found the weakness that would negate the gift, and that was love. True love to the man that would bring forth the next in the line of our kind.
I, I am ashamed to report, never found the man who would bring forth the next to bare this gift, for I had fallen in love with something more precious than a person of the flesh.
I had fallen in love with the feel of death. To take a life of a person; to see their life slowly slip from them. My heart held no greater joy than when I would hunt for these wrongdoers, these sinners. It became a game for me, to search out these people, to find their specific sin, and to prey upon it. I loved the feel of their blood on my hands, or their windpipe crushing under the pressure of my fingers. To see their faces contort in pain. I loved it all, I couldn’t have enough.
When I was captured, I could no sooner deny my love than I could denounce my family. I told them everything I had done. The families of those I had “murdered” called me a monster, a demon, they prayed that I would be sent to Hell for my crimes. Little did they know that I was to be sent there before they had prayed for it. It was predestined, that I was to be taken into the realm of the fallen angels.
I was visited the night of my death, by a man clothed in a fine pin-striped suit, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He told me of my destiny, and offered me a chance to do more than just let my gift and my beauty burn in the fires.
He told me of The Five -- the men who were the human form of Satan. The eyes and ears of the damned. I was to lose my gift after my death, for gifts belong to God. I, upon my acceptance, would walk the earth with these Five, to do their bidding and living my love. I would kill again, up until the day of my 45th mortal birthday, when I would be married to Satan, queen of Hell.
So, I accepted, and was murdered by this faceless man in the dark of night. How I loved the freedom given me. Until I met… him.
They were guilty of numerous crimes. Crimes that supersede our worldly laws. They were guilty of crimes of sin. The seven deadly, as a matter of fact.
At an early age, I was told that I possessed the gift to sense these evildoers, and it was my duty, when I reached the age of twenty, to dispose of these people. My mother before me, and my grandmother before her, were charged with the same, sacred duty.
They were never caught, because they’d found the weakness that would negate the gift, and that was love. True love to the man that would bring forth the next in the line of our kind.
I, I am ashamed to report, never found the man who would bring forth the next to bare this gift, for I had fallen in love with something more precious than a person of the flesh.
I had fallen in love with the feel of death. To take a life of a person; to see their life slowly slip from them. My heart held no greater joy than when I would hunt for these wrongdoers, these sinners. It became a game for me, to search out these people, to find their specific sin, and to prey upon it. I loved the feel of their blood on my hands, or their windpipe crushing under the pressure of my fingers. To see their faces contort in pain. I loved it all, I couldn’t have enough.
When I was captured, I could no sooner deny my love than I could denounce my family. I told them everything I had done. The families of those I had “murdered” called me a monster, a demon, they prayed that I would be sent to Hell for my crimes. Little did they know that I was to be sent there before they had prayed for it. It was predestined, that I was to be taken into the realm of the fallen angels.
I was visited the night of my death, by a man clothed in a fine pin-striped suit, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He told me of my destiny, and offered me a chance to do more than just let my gift and my beauty burn in the fires.
He told me of The Five -- the men who were the human form of Satan. The eyes and ears of the damned. I was to lose my gift after my death, for gifts belong to God. I, upon my acceptance, would walk the earth with these Five, to do their bidding and living my love. I would kill again, up until the day of my 45th mortal birthday, when I would be married to Satan, queen of Hell.
So, I accepted, and was murdered by this faceless man in the dark of night. How I loved the freedom given me. Until I met… him.