Araviette

Slaying Monsters She winced as hot, sticky liquid splashed across her face. Her vision blurred. Still, she wasn’t deterred. Using what body weight she had to her advantage, she shoved the knife deeper into his gut. Her mind flooded with a rush of grim satisfaction. His screams had long tapered off to faint moans. She smiled, feeling her skin stretch tightly across her face. She held his gaze, staring into his eyes as the light faded from them and the edges of his sight blackened. Murder was surprisingly easy, some disconnected part of her noted. Not just the mental implications of the act, but the act itself. Was his life so fragile?

Is this my fate then To linger amongst the fallen things Where night terrors hide in shadow Watching. Waiting. Hunting me. Plagued by memories They echo through these halls Screeching their bittersweet beckonings Clawing at the doors of my mind Where deepest longing and fear lie dormant Hearing the clash of far off battle This fortress at last in siege It screams it's hatred of the Light Laughter. Warmth. Feeling. I taste the lingering sound of music. It leads me to that which I search The key so near To free this self made prison of the Dark

I scatter my dreams Like ashes on the wind Desperately hoping that they might Turn to seeds and take root. I feed them happy thoughts Like sunbeams On a cloudy day. And though weeds crop up, Stubborn like my nature I love them all the same. The rain comes Like a flood of emotion That threatens to drown My laughter. The sun shines too harshly Starving my muses And drying up the earth. Sometimes, my flowers wither Often, my weeds are pulled Because people don’t understand That both are beautiful. The weeds amongst the flowers Only serve to enhance The beauty of my dreams. They struggle through storms And droughts. Through neglect

The poignant memories that resurfaced while trapped within the confines of their self inflicted prison were in constant flux. Some were caustic images, seared into their minds, of the events that had led to their deaths. They flickered one moment, only to linger the next. Some scratched at the surface of awareness, while others were less than a whisper in the gaping silence of their mind. Bitterness, rising like bile in a human vessel’s throat, was almost comforting after what felt like so many eternities. The moment they had laid eyes on the Jewel of Kala, they had been possessed by it in every way that mattered. Echoes of a thousand