09/10/2025  Playtime Starter No one ever took Donielle seriously. She was the family joke. The Clown. The Jester. The shameful Harlequin that was nothing. She might have been Axels favorite child but to the La Mara, most would say she was a nuisance at best. Did that deter her from her nature? No. If anything, their ridicule only made her more twisted. Spiteful. The only one who seemed to understand her was Zyan, who fortunately was her husband. But even he had limits with her. Did she care? Not in the least. Donielle had been a free spirit since birth, that wasnt about to change. Especially not this time of year.  Donielle never found better sport than when Fall came and the mortals set up their quaint little mazes and entertainments that celebrated the macabre and embraced the taboos they prayed for redemption about the rest of the year. Donielle adjusted her mask, the thin white painted ceramic was shaped like a fox, eyes lined with violet led lights covered the top half of her face as she stalked through the theme park filled with scare actors and mortals reaking of adrenaline and fear.  Their screams made her giggle as she watched how the foolish ones jumped when the actors lunged for them or chased them down the path ways. She made a turned and smiled at this particular zone. In her white corset and ruffled tutu she blended right in with the ghoulish 'dead' masquerade creatures. One lunged at her and she blew a raspberry at them before she turned as a slider skidded across the pathway at her, sparks flying from his hands and knees as he slid to her and jumped to his feet. He towered over her petite height even in her platform heels, making her clap her hands in delight before she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Well aren't you lovely?" She cooed before she kissed him. The man cried out as blood began to trickle down his chin before she shoved him away. He staggered back, letting out a garbled cry as he touched his mouth and saw the blood there. Donielle giggled as she spit something at him. "Relax....its just the tip," She taunted as he looked at what shed spit on him. And sure enough, on his shirt sat the tip of his tongue. He ran from her then and she spun in a twirl and continued on her way, blood staining her mouth and chin. By the way anyone would believe he wasnt faking the damage to his tongue, hed likely bleed out. And no one would be the wiser of the monster among them 02: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

02/17/2025  A Haunting Serenade The wind blew. Seph knew this not because she felt it. Seph didn't feel anything anymore. She heard it though. Heard the wind as it moved through the old, warped floorboards. Listened to the creaks and groans. Distantly, she could hear the drip from a rusted pipe. The house had been empty a long time. Even before Seph woke here. The floors were dusty and decayed in spots. Parts of the walls were still streaked with soot from the fire that had blazed here long ago. The house smelt of mold and decay. Must and rot. It was a house of broken dreams and rotten memories. Of spider webs and mice. It was empty and still. Then down below, in the basement, sat the only signs of a life lost. Of the traces of blood splatter, the copper shades blending in like dark rust on the surfaces. Seph remembered watching the police as they came in and took her body away. Seph had only caught on pieces of what they said. Ritual sacrifice. Wrists and ankles bound. A sigil carved into her breast. Blood drained from her body post mortem. Seph remembered none of it. Not the ritual. Not their faces. Not the pain. Those moments were a void of black in her mind. She knew her name only from hearing it by the police who found her bag in the house. That was months ago. Had it been months? It felt longer. Then again, time did not matter to the dead, now did it? So she stopped keeping track of the days and nights that past her. Hunger never struck. Nor did thirst. And sleep seemed to come only when she used what little energy she had to try and manipulate her environment. Over time, Seph learned that if she focused enough, she could move things. Slam doors. Rattle windows. She discovered she could give herself physical form. Though it did not last long. Such extreme manifestations took immense energy. Energy she could draw from electronics or from people around her. That she learned when a vagrant had broken into the house to avoid a vicious storm. In his drunken haze, she had gotten close enough to feel his life force and drank it in like a spring breeze. He'd screamed and run in horror when suddenly the pale skinned beauty in her black lace gown had appeared before him, whiskey eyes begging for his help as blood ran from her lips. But even then, such an extreme flex of power had left her drained for days. Tonight, there was another storm outside. The flash of lightning revealed a glimpse of Seph standing in the second story window. Her lonely whiskey eyes looked out at the world outside. The folds of her black lace gown contrasting her pale skin, gave her an ethereal glow as she watched the storm. And as she watched it, she sang. Her voice was soft and haunting, melodic and heartbroken as she sang. But what other song could one expect from a lonely ghost? Here's a lullaby to close your eyes, Goodbye It was always you that I despised. I don't feel enough for you to cry, oh no, Here's a lullaby to close your eyes. Goodbye. 03: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

Back to Posts