Post by Kaieka on Feb 17, 2004 2:28:40 GMT -5
I sit on the couch thinking after Bassarov leaves. I felt as if he was going to kiss me again. His kisses are so sweet, so full of passion. I close my eyes and think about this man, Bassarov. Suddenly, a thought springs to my mind. I remember Bassarov and I, our bodies entwined in the process of making love. I see us sitting together, holding hands, watching a sunset of tangerine orange. I sit up and open my eyes. My memories are incomplete, but they are returning. I feel a warmth rushing over me as I see those memories replayed once more.
I love Bassarov!
The intensity and urgency of this thought pounds it's reality into my head.
I love Bassarov!
I feel an amazing desire for him, to be near him. I want to tell him that my memories are returning. To let him know that I feel for him what he feels for me. I stand up, elated at the thought, still warm from the thoughts of my passionate encounter with the dark, sinewy man.
I walk to his room and open the door...
**************
There in bed is Bassarov, his body is lean and beautiful, just as in my newly found memory... but next to him is someone that was not a part of that experience. Mischa lays next to him, they are naked in eachother's arms, it is not hard to guess how they came to be that way.
An anger burns within me, replacing the elation of the newly remembered times. I am overcome. Before I know what I am doing, I am upon the two sleeping men. I scream a terrible, blood curtling scream that causes them to become paralized. Now awake, they are unable to move, their eyes open and watching me.
He loved me... He said.. he loved me...
I remember. I remember him holding me, kissing me, making love to me, telling me... telling me lies. These memories flooding to me in the wake of this visual onslaught.
I grab Bassarov and jerk him to his feet, his naked body standing limp in my grasp. His eyes delve deep into mine, shocked and pleading. I silence them! I stab my long nails into his ribs. I remember a similar situation long ago. I smile, a bitter, evil smile.
My fangs sink into his neck and blood runs down my throat. I cannot even enjoy the vintage taste in my fury. I drink until he is almost drained and then cast his body to the floor.
I scream once more, my arms spread wide. Blood running down my chin and the front of my bodice.
The windows burst open, and in fly thousands of bats. My minions. I summon them and they fill the room with a darkness. Mischa's eyes are wide and afraid as the bats cover him. They drain his energy as each flying fiend touches him. Little by little he is sapped until he is on the edge of death.
I have seen enough. I am through with revolutionaries. Let them lie here and die!
I jump out the window and dissappear into mist. Full of anger and bitterness I leave the two men to their deaths. I travel far before I reapparate.
A woman scorned is a terrible thing!
I love Bassarov!
The intensity and urgency of this thought pounds it's reality into my head.
I love Bassarov!
I feel an amazing desire for him, to be near him. I want to tell him that my memories are returning. To let him know that I feel for him what he feels for me. I stand up, elated at the thought, still warm from the thoughts of my passionate encounter with the dark, sinewy man.
I walk to his room and open the door...
**************
There in bed is Bassarov, his body is lean and beautiful, just as in my newly found memory... but next to him is someone that was not a part of that experience. Mischa lays next to him, they are naked in eachother's arms, it is not hard to guess how they came to be that way.
An anger burns within me, replacing the elation of the newly remembered times. I am overcome. Before I know what I am doing, I am upon the two sleeping men. I scream a terrible, blood curtling scream that causes them to become paralized. Now awake, they are unable to move, their eyes open and watching me.
He loved me... He said.. he loved me...
I remember. I remember him holding me, kissing me, making love to me, telling me... telling me lies. These memories flooding to me in the wake of this visual onslaught.
I grab Bassarov and jerk him to his feet, his naked body standing limp in my grasp. His eyes delve deep into mine, shocked and pleading. I silence them! I stab my long nails into his ribs. I remember a similar situation long ago. I smile, a bitter, evil smile.
My fangs sink into his neck and blood runs down my throat. I cannot even enjoy the vintage taste in my fury. I drink until he is almost drained and then cast his body to the floor.
I scream once more, my arms spread wide. Blood running down my chin and the front of my bodice.
The windows burst open, and in fly thousands of bats. My minions. I summon them and they fill the room with a darkness. Mischa's eyes are wide and afraid as the bats cover him. They drain his energy as each flying fiend touches him. Little by little he is sapped until he is on the edge of death.
I have seen enough. I am through with revolutionaries. Let them lie here and die!
I jump out the window and dissappear into mist. Full of anger and bitterness I leave the two men to their deaths. I travel far before I reapparate.
A woman scorned is a terrible thing!