Princeben07
Pure Abyssal Misfortune
Activation of nostalgic memories could nullify even the ominous ones who seek revenge; the Liberty bells that rang in his head were echoing on a fragile psyche of the mind. It could see clearly of the shadows that moved about in a perverse manner' almost as if the spirit world couldn't even find a fucking exit.
His eyes carved out shapes and his ears made sub-cellular tapestries of sounds of silence; almost trifectors. Disease-ridden confusion amongst the normal really kept his body in a lot of pain. A single lantern lit his ways as he walked in a motion of almost being in a drunken state; but it wasn't that. It was the pain that his body experienced each time someone somewhere else died; it was THAT painful.
That ravenous thirst was in his throat again; he had consumed the blood of over 12 virgins; all of them pure and untainted by the muse of horny and misguided males only looking to burst through their Hymens and cause them to bleed during the act of intercourse. Hand now upon his head as he had to just STOP WALKING, Vantrix then began to take in a deep breath; it was like he had ten lost helixes that had programmed his Bronchial Sacs to just expunge all of the remaining air from his lungs; his bellows now sore as ever.
Letting forth a sigh, then a few heaves from coughing, Vantrix reached for the first set of bannisters from the staircase, only to feel another hand clasp around his left upper arm, helping him along. This shadowy figure had an inhaler in her hand as well, talking in a garbled language at first, but as he was to focus his eyes to the districts of her shapely figure, he could now focus on who it is that had saved him from those miserable catacombs; Vistage.
They called her Vancie for short, since no one really liked her birth name; it just sounded like a redundant resemblance to a reality whiplash of terrible birth-naming.
His eyes carved out shapes and his ears made sub-cellular tapestries of sounds of silence; almost trifectors. Disease-ridden confusion amongst the normal really kept his body in a lot of pain. A single lantern lit his ways as he walked in a motion of almost being in a drunken state; but it wasn't that. It was the pain that his body experienced each time someone somewhere else died; it was THAT painful.
That ravenous thirst was in his throat again; he had consumed the blood of over 12 virgins; all of them pure and untainted by the muse of horny and misguided males only looking to burst through their Hymens and cause them to bleed during the act of intercourse. Hand now upon his head as he had to just STOP WALKING, Vantrix then began to take in a deep breath; it was like he had ten lost helixes that had programmed his Bronchial Sacs to just expunge all of the remaining air from his lungs; his bellows now sore as ever.
Letting forth a sigh, then a few heaves from coughing, Vantrix reached for the first set of bannisters from the staircase, only to feel another hand clasp around his left upper arm, helping him along. This shadowy figure had an inhaler in her hand as well, talking in a garbled language at first, but as he was to focus his eyes to the districts of her shapely figure, he could now focus on who it is that had saved him from those miserable catacombs; Vistage.
They called her Vancie for short, since no one really liked her birth name; it just sounded like a redundant resemblance to a reality whiplash of terrible birth-naming.