( it had been nights, &. nights, &. nights, &. nights, &. nights ... NIGHTS of slow, creeping, MADDENING torment. nights of fervent prayer whispered over howling wolves, nights of tangled sweat-soaked sheets, nights of hands pressed DESPERATELY to ears in vain attempt to silence the SILKEN tones echoing in her head. nights of pacing - ever pacing - of aching fingers CLUTCHING wooden stake, of SCREAMING into the night, of documenting her increasing madness through writing &. sketching in attempt to stay awake. yet she was POWERLESS before him - nothing stopped the patient, INEVITABLE pace of the vampyr. )
( waifish scholar could feel her mind being UNWOUND as if he were doing it himself, pulling her apart to peer past fleshy exterior into TARNISHED soul. enough - enough! doctor erupted from domicile with the enraged RESTLESSNESS of one who hasn't slept in many days, not knowing if FERVID shadow was behind or ahead, only sure the shifting darkness of pine would be enough to draw him out, to face her. )
( &. yet when good doctor finally crosses his path it is not a MARTYR defeating a devil, but a mortal witnessing the true form of a god &. BURNING before him. digits - once so sure in driving gripped STAKE through his heart - drop wooden weapon with SHARP inhale of breath, instead pressing to full mouth in sheer HORROR. neat, tight braid had long since come undone, the FLAME of her hair curling about frightened pallor. her father's SAPPHIRE hues peer from delicate features, BLOODSHOT &. wide with lunacy. stumbling over cotton nightdress, her back presses into cold, unfeeling bark of a pine too soon, too soon! )
' where will you take me? '
( thick dutch cadence is BROKEN with exhaustion, with terror. fingertips grip silver CRUCIFIX about her neck so tightly they bleed, but somehow she knows it will not be enough. her faith is wavering - god has not been made manifest, yet the DEVIL stands before her offering his hand. )
' what do you want, demon?! '