Post by VICTOR RIDDLE on Jul 15, 2010 21:41:32 GMT -5
can you hear the silhouettes? the slim and dark figures
rising like giants out of the shadows, they're crawling out of our skin ![/b][/size][/font]
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An overcast twilight... Beautiful and unnerving, cloaked in dark colors and a descending darkness. Victor's skin prickled in anticipation as he prowled one of the gardens tucked in Superbia. Despite the hunger that was ever-present in his dark eyes, the man was alone. He shifted through the gloom quietly, one of his arms extended as he ran a hand along one of the walls that separated the small garden from the glossy shops and clean walkways where the men and women promenade with upturned noses. His fingers would catch on the twisted vines that had overwhelmed the wall; wild and unruly. For such a well-groomed section of town, the small garden had grown out a little. The inmates here were probably far too busy swathing themselves in glorious garb to take care of this little twisted sanctuary. His nails raked against the curved stems, as though he was teasing the plant very much like a cat swats at a mouse, claws nicking at flesh all for the amusing notion of inflicting pain. But a plant was a plant. It did not scream when tortured or killed. It merely withered away, soundless and unsatisfying for someone like Victor, who thrived on the sounds and expressions his prey would offer just as the light left their eyes. But plants appeared indifferent; apathetic towards the world as they continued to grow, grow, grow. They had no purpose besides further development. But wasn't that also the purpose of man? To progress the growth of the mind, body, and soul in the space of a lousy lifetime? Perhaps. In the end, it all boiled down to greed. That, and the genetic success of a species. Man was no different from other animals. Grow, eat, sleep, breed, die. Perhaps this was why Victor had skirted away from the beaten path. The routine of normality was so boring and dull. He constantly yearned for the extraordinairy. So he simply sought to improve it within himself. But Vic had never looked in a mirror to see himself as a man. Oh no. He had always seen something else. He could have seen a god... He could have seen a monster... Or perhaps he saw a beautiful combination of both. In any case, Victor was a superior being... and he'd be happy to remind anyone of this should they dare doubt him.
He paused in his footsteps, not removing his hand from the ivy-covered wall. A faint, tickling sensation fluttered along his fingers and he glanced towards the wall, an eyebrow raised in vague amusement. A spider, hidden in the vines, had taken interest in the man's long, white fingers. The arachnid tested them with tentative limbs; prodding and pressing at them with a child's curiosity. Victor did not move his hand, only waited to see what the spider would do next. It didn't look poisonous, after all. And even if it did... well, Vic enjoyed flirting with death now and then. His brown eyes were trained on the creature with a surprising intensity. Usually, Mr. Riddle was languid and lazy, rarely ever drawn into a state of keen interest. But he really was a predator, always watching his prey with a hunger that he could never quite shed from his countenance. He did not appear hostile, however, and even tried coaxing the spider onto his hand with gentle fingers. Again, it was heistant... as though aware of the danger that radiated from Victor like the body heat he didn't even seemed to have much of in the first place. The man was so cold. He'd always been that way, mentally and physically. There was no warmth that dwelt in his stare or his smile. He was a brilliant actor... but there would always be something different about him; something not quite right. The spider seemed aware of this as it finally climbed onto the back of Victor's hand. Just like the rest of his puppets, the arachnid had been unable to resist the strange allure that drew in victims like moths to the flame. Now the spider was, like everyone else, the fly in his web...
The silver-haired sociopath pulled his hand slowly away from the wall, turning it as the spider crawled over it so that the creature came to rest in his palm. His fingers curled slightly, as though to shield it from the elements just enough to make it comfortable cradled in his grasp. The spider seemed content with this and simply stood there, occasionally reaching a leg out to experimentally prod at his skin. Victor grinned at it, dark eyes lit dangerously even in the gloom of iminent nightfall. "Why hello there," he purred, thumb reaching out a little to gently caress the spider's abdomen in faux affection. The creature stirred, unaccustomed to the contact, but remained in the man's palm. Victor laughed softly and raised his hand closer to his face so that he could get a better look at it. Beneath the predator's stare, the spider stirred again, front limbs reaching out to cling to Victor's thumb, as though in apology or reassurance. The madman clicked his tongue, smirking as he continued to eye his prize with intent amusement. "You should be more careful, you know. It's nearly the witching hour. Soon, the monsters will come out to play..." The spider had nothing to say to this (obviously), and stood still in his hand, perhaps unsure of what to make of this strange, pale giant speaking in such a low and foreign tone. Again, the Brit chuckled and rolled his eyes very much like an adult would in observing the immature antics of a child. As he did so, he reached out with his other hand, plucking up the spider by two of its legs between his thumb and index finger. He did so gingerly and with the utmost care... almost unnatural for someone so feral beneath that gentleman's grin.
He dangled the spider over his face, surveying it critically and with a faint pout on his lips. The spider had been still at first, but now it had begun to squirm. It knew what was going to happen. "Poor, poor thing. But it's not as though anyone will miss you. You're insignificant. You should be flattered with all the attention I've lavished on you..." He lowered the spider closer to his mouth, his tongue slinking past his lips to tease the creature with a quick prod to its underbelly. It squirmed again, only tangling itself up in its own legs as it writhed in desparation. The predator just grinned, eyelids lowered halfway in lazy content. "I can't waste all my time on you. I've got bigger and better things. Ta-ta, friend." And, with that said, he lowered the spider into his mouth and wrapped his lips around it. He toyed around with it in his mouth a bit with his talented tongue, but grew bored after a few seconds and swallowed it. One of the legs had been caught in his teeth. He pulled it out and admired its thin, fragile structure before flicking it away into the foliage, unimpressed. The sunset had nearly passed and the purple haze of dusk was sneaking into the garden. Victor raked a hand through his long, white hair, smirking again as he reached out once more to stroke one of the vines on the wall. "Hn. I'm still hungry." So typical, Victor. So very typical.
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THIS THREAD IS finished.
AND IT’S FOR no one in particular. This is open to anyone. <:
AS FOR WORDS, WE HAVE 1238
THE LYRICS ARE FROM two birds stoned at once by chiodos.
MUSE IS THANKS TO disturbia by the cab.
ANY LAST THOUGHTS? lol, recycled... but I wanted to put it to use. Someone come bother him.
THANKS FOR THE HARD WORK template (c) - bethasaur ftw . of CAUTION 2.0
