This hurricane's chasing us all underground
"o, we are not nearly loud enough," euryale's laughter is soft, maniacal and devilish, as she presses those hushed, silver words to the curve of the unicorn's ear. euryale's insanity, a ravenous creature; makes alluring siren-music of her deranged, and derisive whispers. her madness becomes the drug. her madness becomes the release. her madness, feels dark and beautiful and angry, as they hunt like frenzied locusts alongside her bloated lust. they were proverbial insects, that preyed like a pest upon her mind. toying, her fragile sanity with the idea of unraveling the unicorn's flesh, like a bloodied dress too visceral to wear. now, now, her mind whispers, playfully, coaxing yet again. teasing, even, like fingertips running through lace too sheer, too warm, it could be running through skin, instead.
her curves press the unicorn, lightly, as together they tangle alongside one another like two serpents in eden"s garden. the witch's maddening hunger, becomes raw with a silent-screaming rage, even as she feels her heart, her body, decaying by thana's magic. euryale steels her appetite with an ache, all too familiar. she feels crazed, with both violence and heady want, drunk enough to behave so coyly. she feels the heavy weight of temptation, arrest her. the marbles around them continue to crack, cracking. the moonbeams, filtered through a curtain of rancid decay and dust, becomes floodlights of silver death that laugh and scream and dance with chaotic music. as crystal-clear as any knife, and its metallic purring. still, euryale, does not shy nor fear the teeming mass of rot. still, she is tangled with the unicorn, as their undead wolves riot around them in a howling storm of malevolence, carnage and hunger. still, death breathes its destructive kiss along euryale's skin. hot and kindling with a fire that wants to consume, too much. "not enough," euryale laughs again, her voice goes from bedroom whisper to screaming shrill. almost unheard, in the unicorn's whirring music and violent arcana. will i ever be enough for you?
death, slips like a vengeful lover, spilling around the curvaceous edges of euryale. the blackness, thickens; the red unicorn appears engorged by euryale's blood, as the rot clings to wounded flesh. the shadows, becoming animated predators in the dark spaces breathed hotly between them. euryale feels no fear. euryale only sees the beauty of the unicorn's face, hidden among the nest of chaos and ruin. a face she would gladly kiss. still, euryale's desire feels all wrong and hungry and wretchedly empty. consumed, only by a twisted kind of immoral desire, which screamed borderline masochistic. perhaps, the added sharpness of the unicorn's tail-blade running slowly beneath her neck like an eagle's talon, feels more like a nail-filled caress dressed in the language of threat. perhaps, the unicorn's dark beast, looks no more than a lurid shadow with gaping white teeth, as it pulls along the red unicorn with fabled promise and bestial purr. and where euryale expects death to completely consume her. destroy her. she only feels the sudden fading of the immortal's magic, as the red mare pulls away, with words both spoken and unspoken.
euryale does not reply to the last of the unicorn's words. she watches the red creature leave with her beast and her ruinous gods in tow. euryale does not follow her into the darkness, even as she ached to lunge and scrape her teeth along the woman's thigh as she left. the lilac-haired temptress only stands by a decaying statue angel. the witch only watches through a broken, glass-window as death leaves and the night continues, on and on; singing songs, of moonlight and shadow. only when dawn breaks, a first kiss of blazing red along the horizon, only then does euryale break free of the spell. only then, does she descend the mountains, covered in blood. covered in scars. only then does she press her lips to the tall grass, and follows the unicorn's scent.
@thana (thank you for such a wild thread)
and a riot about to explode into flames
