Haunted as she had been since the too-tender womb of early youth, Lacey should have known that the holy glow of deepest night where she traveled with Blake had a dark side. The dark side of the moon was wont to draw out the wild side of anyone, was it not? Her every inquiry resounded like an echo in the empty well of her soul, and she knew only that she had been gutted somehow from the inside out by a knife wielded second by Blake, and first by the devil himself. It was a cruel twist of fate that memories still bloomed from the wilt of her rotted corpse; if anything they moved with the fluid ease of cold, dark rivers through the unnatural emptiness of her, for in the decay of her mind she embodied death. And what was death but a hollow vessel through which all time was filtered eerily through? Still, long-dead flesh retained a latent, almost paranormal power to rise and fall with the illusion of life that was mirrored in memories. Like the forlorn cry of a wolf howling torridly at the moon, she was haunted. Haunted by the city where Blake lived, that crumbling tower of her past where silvery plumes of smoke had baked the zombie-like masses on the streets like a corpse in the aftermath of fire. But also Lacey had been ripe with the hearth of a long lost home blooming inside her. Blake. At the very thought of him her corpselike figure twisted on the stillness of the cot as she ached with the whole of her being for her other half. - An eerie moment from Lily Whites of Steel, in keeping with the spirit of Halloween ;)
Posted on: Wed, 30 Oct 2013 19:29:09 +0000
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