Vescar
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Placeholder for Vescars stories
–- WARNING ---
Vescars thread is rated "R".
This thread will contain some disturbing stories. If you didn’t like watching seven, 8mm or man on fire, then this thread isn’t for you.
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–- WARNING: THIS STORY IS RATED R. ---
--- No one under 17 admited wtihout a parent or guardian
---"Merilelle Kericent? Yes, I do know of her."
- Vescar, interviewing with Kestrix Corvance for position of bodyguard to his son Vintaro Corvance
He lowered himself slowly down to one knee, his dark leathers bending with a slight sigh. He leaned in close, pulling away the black mask covering his nose and mouth. She lay there like a doll in that blue and gold dress, eyes wide open, unblinking. He was certain she couldn’t move, but mostly he was amazed she still lived. He could only tell by the glimmer in her eye. That little bit of sparkle you can see when you look close and they don’t turn away. At first, his expression was pure amazement…but slowly his lips curled into a grin. A wide disturbing grin, something you would expect to see from a child after giving them a piece of candy. He leaned in even closer, breathing on her skin. Slow calm even breaths. His eyes explored hers and the smile remained. His other knee came down slowly to her other side as he leaned in closer, now on top of her. He tipped his face in close, gently bumping his nose and lips against her cheek for a moment, still breathing evenly…backing away just enough to become a light touch. He kept that distance, now exploring her face, moving his against it, taking in her touch, her smell. He whispered to her softly in elvish as if only to amuse himself:
"This must be a gift from the gods. You …" the smile, the look, became something more sinister "…are a gift."
Now on all fours, he followed the curve of her cheek, his mouth brushing against her neck, moving slowly up to her ear. He paused there, pulling back just slightly, just enough to marvel at what he thought was so beautiful about it. His expression changed again … inquisitive, fascinated or perhaps enthralled. He reached back with his left hand, slowly drawing a dagger from the sheath on his side. The one he used on the Orc. The one he had sharpened and polished to perfection just a day before. He tilted his head slightly away and brought the blade down slowly and carefully to the side of her head. He went to work on her there, on the floor by the bed. Her blue and gold dress now grew dark in some places. A deep red bled into the blue, turning it dark and foul looking. He worked on her for perhaps an hour with the dagger until he noticed. He gazed like a child into her eyes. The light there was gone. All he could see was a shadow of him self there. And somehow, that pleased him.
Later they would say she was killed along with the other nobles attending the dinner that evening. They would claim the target was not her, but Elindril.
