Welcome to a Horror Story;;Volume One

[Dyzz-semi-back-]

Introducing...


Chapter One

Intro to this horror story:

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The sun had set, and now the dangerous equine where out to play. No moon graced the sky tonight, and two black masses could be seen moving threw the dark. The darkness played to their adventages, keeping them from sight, and letting them hunt. Two black shapes, one large and sleek, and powerful, the other small, quick, and just as dangerous. These two, you didn't want to meet up with. Watching from afar, you might not tell what they were doing. Black bodies moving quickly, one a little smaller then a foal, when taller a pony. An equine and a wolf moving as one. Claiming the night as their hunting grounds. No one wanted to be in the way of this deadly twosome. Blood lust shown in both of their eyes. A light sparkle that caught them, and seemed to make them all the more terrifying. Let the Games Began...

Part One;
The Prey

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Scattered thoughts:
Hooves and... paws... chasing... must get away... must... get... away... must... No where to go... Death coming... Equine... wolf... blood... must... get away... Lost... no home... confused... must get away... paws... claws... fear... must get home... lost... dead... dying... blood... most make it... can't lose... closer... wolf... equine... must... away... lost... help... death... help... must... get... away... can't lost... must run... get away... dead... pain... dark... death... death... blood... smell... nothing... death.... death...

Behind the Scenes:
A small rabbit, probably not even a year old ran threw the night, fear making it's eyes bright, as it hoped along. Long ears twitching back, listening to the sound of hooves and paws chasing it. Then suddenly claws upon it's back, and teeth latched onto the body when the claws let go. The rabbit was suddenly brought high in the air, as the teeth bit down. With one last twitch the rabbit layed motionless. It fell back to the ground, and a large black mare smiled, showing bloody fangs. Ah... the joys of the hunt. She licked the blood from her maw, savering in the taste, as Midnight Sonata reached down to eat the bunny. She growled with contenment as she knawed upon it. They may have only hunted for the food, but soon... soon Wicca could go back to her fun.

Part Two;
The Serial Killer

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Thrill of the chase:

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Darkness blended into darkness, laberred breath after breath. Equine and wolf side beside. Mastered art of tracking, chasing, and killing. An unstoppable team. The struggling prey, desperate to stay atleast two jumps ahead. A fool to try. Death gleaming eyes, soundless hooves encasted with blood of long past victims. And soon this poor dear would become another one of those blood splaches. She nodded to her partner in crime, and the black she-wolf beside her jumped. Wicca watched as Sonata caught the prey in her claws, then released it, so Wicca could attack. Wicca picked up the rabbit, and bit hard, feeling her fags crush threw the body, and blood cover her mouth, and slick down the throat. As the prey finally stopped thrashing, she let the limp body fall, and licked the access blood from her maw. Her eyes closed in delight, and she smirked as Sonata dug into the carcess.

The Dark Soul:[/i]
Ah, the fun of chasing. Nothing more enchanting then that. Not in my book. And this is my book. I... being the infamous serial killer, Wiccan Rede. Haven't heard of me? Tsk Tsk. You should. I don't limit myself to small prey. I prefer the blood of equines. But... I'm behaving myself in this land. I haven't killed... in 3 or 4 monthes. I do believe that is a new record. I shook out my mane, smiling as the random threads fell against my satiny neck. If it wasn't for the eery black orbs I held, that sparkled with dark humor, and death, and my blood encrusted daggers, as well as my permanent smirk, I'd be concidered lovely. But... to late, I was already who I am. A killing machine. Not that i minded. I was rather fond of the dark games i particapated in, with my prey. I always won. And wore their blood as my own personal trophies. I smiled at my little dear friend, watching as Midnight Sonata dug into the carcess of what had been our prey. I was done with it. I had recieved my share of blood, and had gotten the thrill of the chase. I was happy for now. Not that I would be able to keep going on just hunting these small little things. Soon... oh so very soon I was going to have to kill more. Kill an equine. Sooner or later, I wasn't going to be able to resist the pull. Do you know how long it has been sense I tasted foal? Much too long. But for now, rabbits, deer, the ocasional bear(i liked things to fight back) would suffice.
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Part Three;
The Companion

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Full after a Meal:
Sonata rolled onto her back, and used her paw to swipe at Wicca, whining as she did so. The Black friesian mare nodded, and lay down, "Time to relax, then we can run again. Hunt again. I need to keep occupied if I am to behave myself in these strange lands." Sonata nodded, and rested. Every so often a limb wound twitch at the sound of an animal in the night. Just as much as Wicca was, Sonata was a born killer. Even if Wicca called most of the shots. And usually the mare didn't. The wolf was given free rein over everything. She just treated Wicca as lead, as alpha. Sonata slowly rose, and kneeded Wicca's side. And slowly the huge mare rose up. Sonata howled, and started racing threw the night, Wicca soon at her side.

Part Four;
The View from Afar

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Dangerous by look:
Demon in sheeps clothing, that is what the mare looked like as she made herself out to be what she was. A friend of the wolf. Not just that. A companion, and in some eyes, the leader. What else could she be but dangerous. To run wild with a wolf. Her eyes glittered black, and seemed darker then the night around them. They held a certain quality to them that made one shiver. And the way she had drank the rabbit's blood... She didn't even seem equine. She seemed more like a wolf, the way she moved, the way she acted. And as she let out a delighted whinney, it had an aggressive side to it, reserved for wolves. It was odd to see such an equine who litarely seemed like a larger version of the wolf beside her. Her daggers encrusted with old blood, the dangerous gleam of her eyes, and the powerful, stealthy, and predatorish walk and look about her. This femme was nothing more then a wolf. nothing more then a killer. And she seemed to enjoy life that way.

Fearful for right reasons:
As the mare and wolf passed a lone foal, an odd look twisted upon the femme's facade. And the demoness literally looked like she wanted to kill the foal. Tear it open, like the rabbit she had just cut apart. But she walked on, after snarling at the foal, making it scream and run away. This demoness was foul. No... this demoness was dangerous. As she ran, the wolf staying by her side, and the two obviousily liking each others company, she passed another lone equine. And old old mare. Suddenly the two exchange a look, and vered from their path. They approached the old mare, who seemed blind and deaf. It looked like her herd had "accidently" left her. The two silent snuck up on the old mare, who did even seem to notice to two dangerousily stalking her. The the friesian reared up, using her daggers as a sword, holding them at a point, she plunged them deep into the mare's side, blood slicking up to her knees. The mare laughed, at the pained sound the mare made, as she tried to get up. But the wolf had attacked now, grabbing hold of the mares neck. Wolf and equine working together to bring down another equine. The friesian lowered her facade to the equines neck, and bit, her fangs digging in deep, and locking. She felt the mare's old blood, it seemed almost dusty, slink down her throat. As the mare sank motionless to the ground, the Friesian spat out the blood, "That is the grossest blood ever. I'll stick to the younger equines from now on." She muttered, spating again. It tasted so dusty. She wiped her hoof on the mare's hind quarters, leaving a hoofprint followed by a streak of blood. Her signature. It marked the kill as her own. May the equines of this area now know. The Wiccan Rede is now among them.

Getting rid of the evidence:
The black mare ran towards a river, and quickly submerged herself, the wolf doing the same. The water began to run red with the blood of the rabbit and old mare combined. As the two got out, they no longer smelled like the coppery smell of blood, and only the blood dyed to the mare's hooves remained. She always let that blood dry. Always. It as her own personal trophy. "Come on Sonata, lets see what else we can find." Her blood lust had not been quinched, she was ready to hunt again.

Epiloque of the Chapter:

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Together the two moved on, ready to start hunting again. Finding something more to do, growing bored. They would have to be careful though. They had murdered one equine, they didn't want to try for two just yet. But that may just happen if other didn't watch out, and if Wicca got angry enough. They would just have to hope the sleek, dangerous black she-wolf... Wicca's only conciounce, would keep her from acting out to fast. That Sonata might find their life worthy.

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[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

R A I S U R
^{this cup filled with my d i s e a s e laid out for all to see
s h o w e d that this wasn't true l o v e the last time that
we t o u c h e d unlike the l u s t this will last a lifetime
so I'll t a k e these pills to erase my c r i m e and I
will kill the i n f e c t e d one at a time}

Just take a look.

One little look, quickly. What will you see? You'll see a large Friesian stallion with paint markings, running. Screaming. Laughing hysterically. Of course, that stallion is me. I had taken off at a mad dash, glaring between the trees only to find dead bodies everywhere. Rising up against me, following me in their zombified form. And I enjoyed this. So of course I kept running, between the trees, between the bodies, flicking my tail at their faces only to entice them, my beauties, to follow me. Of course, to you, they would not exist. But my mind is wired differently, and they are all to real. Perhaps more real than yourself. My amusement can only be too clear to you, the onlooker to the mad stallion running wild. Perhaps if it was a human, I would be shot and 'put out of my misery.' This isn't misery... this is fun. Cold hearted fun, and my life that I have grown to love so much. Throwing my head to the side, I catch sight of the dead corpses wandering away. Tempest among them, and I skid to a complete stop. My hindquarters drop to the ground in the movement, like a dog suddenly inclined to sit, but the speed I had been traveling at was too much to do so just yet.

Roots and soil, grass and debris uprooted.

As if those skid marks behind me aren't bad enough, one root seemed to spring up from the ground, stretching its mighty limb to trip me, and I scream. Oh, how I screamed. That earsplitting and eerie cry one gives before they die. I tried to crawl back wards, but the momentum was too great even though I had started to slow down, and the root tripped me. I toppled over, head over heels, and lay on my side, panting and laughing hysterically. My sides heave with each maniacal outburst, cutting off my breath until I start to hyperventilate. Breathe, Raisur. Breath! Tombstone's Revenge demands of me. But I can't! I cry back, in my mind of course. My hind leg strikes out, hitting something squishy. Then I wonder if anyone else can read my mind and hear my thoughts. Of course they should, if I can hear it and see it, so should they. That's how life works, isn't it? You sure are stupid. And you sure are annoying.

Retorting seems to have calmed me down, because I stopped hyperventilating.

Carefully and slowly, I get back onto all fours, and gaze around. The dead corpses are gone, and in place is an elder equine lying before my hooves. Was that the squishy thing I felt when I kicked out? The mare looked all... mangled, like out of a horror movie. How could one kick do that? You can get up now. I spat at her, glaring at the elder thing miserably. Because seriously, playing dead isn't cool. I did NOT do all that with one kick! My voice shrieked at her, and she didn't respond. That was making me mad. Raisur, she's dead. NO! She ISN'T! I cried back, anger growing and growing. I spun on my hinds, delivering a bone splitting kick at the mare's skull. She wasn't dead. She was playing. That kick seemed to absorb all my anger, and calm flowed over me. Covered every part of my being, relieving any and all stress that came upon me...

That resulted in the white light.

The white... it bore down on me from all angels, radiating toward me, blocking my view from everything else. Then it seemed to wrap around me, licking every fold, seeping between every hair. Enveloping me. You wouldn't see this though, it was another figment of my mind. And I hated it, almost as much as the black blanket. This is when Tombstone's Revenge takes over, and I'm stuck watching. YOU! ARE! NOT! DEAD! The last two words were said in my mind, because this is where Tombstone's Revenge takes hold. She is dead, Raisur. Let's find something... that isn't... The wickedness in his voice disgusts me, he's so sadistic and sure of himself. I'm the stronger one. No, Raisur. You're the result of a kick. I'm the result of my mother and father. He declared matter of factually. Once he has hold over the body we share, he gets so cocky. He thinks he's better than everyone else, just because he was the Feared One and his lady's child, twin of the heiress.

If he was so high and mighty, he would be heir.

Tombstone broke into a gallop, steadily his hooves ate up the ground, shooting up the terrain behind him with each stride. His muscles glided effortlessly down our shared shoulder blades, his locks streaming out behind him. I can't help but awe at how graceful yet vile he looks when he's in control. I'm just running around... and he's so... I don't know. Murder seemed to emanate from his eyes, because that was all that crossed his mind. My mind. Our mind. His massive hooves dug at the ground and left holes where the dirt was upshot, his white feathers swarming around them to conceal their size, shape, and all other details. His ears fell flat, if it were me, they would be pricked forward. His nostrils flared, taking in the scents. We've got a live one. A mare, and a wolf. Both smell as the old mare's blood. Oh, goody. Aren't you so proud of yourself. I retort. I'm so fed up with being the mind already, that I have to be rude.

Which is totally not me.

Tombstone slowed to a powerful walk, it was fast and powerful, yet a walk all the same. Funny, how he had been making so much noise when he galloped, and now that he walked, it was dead quiet. His hooves didn't make a sound when they hit the earth, probably muffled by the feathers that swarmed it. The creatures in the forest were quiet, though neither of us knows why. They had been pretty lively when I was running with the corpses... on second thought, they weren't even there then. All life seemed deserted from the moment I crossed into these lands. Figure that out on your own, did you? Tombstone shot at me, daring me to reply. But I didn't, and he smirked in defeat. He's handsome... I wonder if I'm gay. No, Mozart. Maybe I'm bi. Yeah, we can go with that, at least for now. Tombstone rolled his deep blue eyes, smirking coyly. You're not gay. You're not a stallion or a mare until you have hold over the body, Raisur. Right now, you have a girls thoughts because that's what we're coming up on, and that's also what our puppeteer is, and she made me to look sexy.

Isn't he a know it all.

He had no intentions of hiding from these two, or sneaking up on them, because that's just not him. I can tell you that myself. He came up in front of them, stopping just before the two and looking them over completely. They seemed innocent enough, but I've never trusted a wolf, and Tombstone's just so... doesn't trust anyone? And what would you two be doing so close to a dead body? Don't you know there's a murderer around, possibly more to follow? Like he is. Run! Run while you still can!!! I'm cracking up inside the prison of this brain, Tombstone's amused but he won't say so and he won't smile, not in front of others. The stupid stallion used to be a mute, so of course, now that he talks, he won't tell anyone how he feels. I know he's amused, though. I just know it! You're such a drama queen. Will you shut up for like, an hour, so I can have fun before you take over again?

Never.

Wordcount;; 1425
Muse;; Average
Comments;; This'll be fun XD I love this charrie <33
Notes;; Tombstone's Revenge's thoughts
Raisur's thoughts
Tombstone's Revenge speaking
Raisur Speaking
Song Credits;; My Crime Against Humanity by Behind Crimson Eyes

[Dyzz-semi-back-]

Introducing...


Chapter Two

Intro

The wolf and horse had traveled only a short distance from the site of the… Well… murder. But it wasn’t really a murder if the creature had more of a life to live right? And it wasn’t like Wicca or Sonata felt any remorse. It was kinda fun to see the flash of fear before the old mare’s down fall. Maybe next time they could go for something a little younger though. Wicca wasn’t to sure she would ever be able to get that taste from her mouth. It was… so gross. She tossed her tresses, the luscious black curls fell into place, before she turned to Sonata… Just as she heard the foot falls of another equine. Shit Wicca thought as she glanced and met Sonata’s gaze, Are we in trouble now?

Part One;
The Challenger

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Looks can be disceaving, love:

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So there he was, approaching the two. His steps were that of a too d.amn proud stallion, and he most defiantly seemed to think he looked… handsome. He stopped before the two, and Wicca caught a slight smirk on Sonata’s face. But for now the two would play innocent. She knew how to play her games right. You catch them off guard, go for the jugular, it was easier. Or she could just follow Plagues advice, her dear old friend, and have Sonata attack, and Wicca humbly save them, lets them feel relaxed and secure, and kill them again. Wicca momentarily let herself wonder what it would taste like, a proud stallions blood running down her throat… Hmm… She might get a taste yet.

A murderer, well don’t look at us:[/color]
Then the stallion spoke, his tone almost… would it be alluring. And what would you two be doing so close to a dead boyd? Don’t you know there’s a murderer around, possibly more to follow? A murderer? Sonata snorted indiginatly, and Wicca looked ferious for a moment. They were a team… TWO MURDERERS, not one. Then Wicca calmly smiled. And pretended to ponder this, ‘new information’ Then slowly she let her lyrics flitter out.[/left][/blockquote]

Part Two;
The Serial Killer

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A murder, how horribly… delicious:

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Wiccan let a small frown fall onto her gorgeous face, and let her foretresses fall over on eye in what stallions often referred to as a sexy look. She then smiled, ”Oh, how horrible? A murder has been commited?” She could hear Sonata tring to keep from laughing, as Wicca practically taunted the stallion, ”Who could ever do such a thing to a being? Just imagine, suddenly dying from a wolf’s teeth around your neck, and a hoof into your heart. Never seeing your family again.” Ya, she gave a little information of what she knew. She shook her head, and placed a sorrowful look upon her façade, ”The poor creature. Hopefully it was a quick, and painless death” Not… She smiled again, her dark eyes however glowed with wicked amusement.

The Dark Soul:[/i]
I’m not a murderer, I’m not a demon. No… I think the term Serial Killer-that I had been granted long ago-fit best. I mean. How else could you describe someone like me. Maybe as a homicidal maniac. Either way. I get to have more fun then anyone else. And come on, what tastes better then warm blood, still warm from the body it came from, slipping down your throat? Nothing really. I smirked softly, before speaking, ”Why, my dear sire, aren’t you hiding from this… murderer? As you so stated? And sire, even more. How do you know it was only one… murderer. And maybe it wasn’t even a murderer. It could have been a serial killer, even more.” I shrugged, as if it was no big deal. Then made a fearful look appear in my orbs. I probably looked delicate, and confused, ”Who would want to kill anyways?” I spoke in a horrified whisper. And who said I couldn’t act?
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Part Three;
The Companion

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The Dark is approaching, stag:
I smirked as my dear friend, and partner in crime spoke such words to the stallion. She was playing really well. I almost wanted to believe her. And now it was my turn to play innocent. ”Oh Wicca! How horrible it must have been for the creature. She was probably so surprised to see that she would be a victim! My heart bleeds for her. The poor dear.” Oh yes… this was most enjoyable. And this stallion, if he hadn’t guessed the truth of us yet… well. How sad that would be. But then again, stallions aren’t very smart, and Wicca was the only one who understood my odd desire to kill, to feel the rain of blood pooling down your throat. I turned my sight to my companion.

Oh shit, hold her back:
Midnight Sonata looked at Wiccan Rede, who was beginning to have that evil glint in her eye, before she showed her true colors. But she doubted Wiccan would really do anything yet… Right? She pawed Wiccan’s leg, and the dark femora snapped out of it, and Sonata watched as she spoke to the creature before them. I am titled… Wiccan Rede.” If the stallion wa smart, he would catch her malicious tone. And if he was cultured. He would recognize the name. Only one horse had that name. And it was the serial killer of the lands, all lands. Wiccan had done well with getting her name around. ”And this beautiful she-wolf at my side is Midnight Sonata.” Again if the stallion was smart, he would know the truth of that name. That Midnight Sonata was the team mate, and killing partner of the fabled Wiccan Rede. Wiccan stopped talking, an amused, sarcastic smirk on her delicate façade.

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Part Four;
The View for Afar

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Fearful Traveler:

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A shy wolf had been passing when it heard the introduction. It had glanced up at the name Wiccan Rede, with wide eyes, and when Midnight Sonata had been spoken, it let out a howl, intent to tell everyone that the killers had mysteriousily arrived here. Sonata’s head spun around, and Wiccan smirked as her friend caught sight of the brown wolf. ”Take care of that Sonata.” She asked. Sonata laughed, and nodded, before stalking of towards the wolf. The brown wolf saw the action, and spun around, racing off, the sleek black wolf at its heels, intent to track it down, and silence the beast for… forever.

Apoligizing, and other pretend games:
Wicca smiled sweetly, ”I’m sorry… Sonata and I are… very cautious. We dislike our… presence being announced so carelessly. Sonata will make sure the wolf… remains silent. I’d rather not learn the law of this land just yet. I enjoy my fun.” Fun… that is what she had called her love of killing equines… Fellow equines… Fun. It was like calling her diet, normal. How many horses lived of the crimson elixor of life… from other beings of their kind… And any other being at that as well. ”Well, back to introductions, Who are you, exactly?” She said, her tone suggesting she could really care less. She had already turned her attention back on the surrounding area, waiting for something. Suddenly a call of a wolf was heard, then quickly silenced off. And the black equine smiled maniacly.

Death is waiting:
Sonata was tracking the wolf, all over, when she suddenly saw it, and quickly jumped out. The wolf spun around, sinking claws deep into the ground beside Sonata, as Sonata jumped up, and over the wolf, landing on it’s back. She sank her teeth deep in the wolf’s neck, and grinned as she felt the warm elixor slip down her throat. Oh how delicious it tasted, warm, delicious, and energizing. Her vision was soon dotted by spots of red that came with her sudden desire to kill. She’d be on a rampage now. But she enjoyed these rampages. The wolf howled long, and hard. Sorrow, pain, and fear were built in, but was quickly cut of, as Sonata, bit further into the wolf’s neck, managing to silence it forever. She lapped up the blood from the wound, letting the crimson regret of the wolf fill her core. She made her survival on this warm suppient drink. As the wound had been cleared, and much of the blood gone from the scene. She began to walk back to Wicca and the stallion. She humbly licked her paws, her snout, and any other part of her body that was covered in blood as she walked, enjoying the sweet taste of it, as she lapped up the last bit of it. It was much better, in her oponion, then the dusty blood of the old equine. That wolf was young an lively, and it’s blood held a sweet, tangy quality. And it was more then enjoyable to Sweet Sonata.

Sorry to keep you waiting:
Sonata walked to Wicca, a bit of blood had died some of her coat, but all of it had been lapped up. On the smell of blood remained, the irony smell were like perfume to the two, and Sonata smiled at Wiccan, ”The creature was… silenced.” The wolf said, smirking,a s she cleaned her paw, but frowned as she no longer could taste the blood. She whined and lay down… ”That was so yummy.” She mumbled, obviousily displeased to find her snack gone now. But she’d just have to take out another creature now. So how many deaths had she been responsible for so far today? 1 wolf, and an old equine. Oh well, it was worth it. She smiled at Wiccan, then turned to the stallion, ”I apologize for my sudden disappearence.” She stopped at that, and went back to remembering the taste of blood running down her throat. Wicca wasn’t pleased to know her companion had tasted, and ate all the fresh blood, but hey. They could just get some more later… After all, it didn’t take that much to kill. And it was a joyly good sport for WIccan and Sonata. Shrugging, the equine looked at her companion, then back at the stallion. Silence had fallen, and it was now the stags turn to speak.[/left][/blockquote]

Epilogue to Chapter

Soon the stallion would either leave, celebreate there dealings in death, or become dinner. One of the three, unless some odd third option was available. Though she didn’t know what it would-could-be. Wiccan let her blood encrusted daggers knead the earth. If one looked at her hooves, they would see them to be covered in dried blood, signaling them to be what they were, her delighted weapons. But much of the blood would wear of in time, and she’d have to collect new throphys, but till then, she could have fun by scaring the crap out of the stallion, unless he was one to appreciate death in the way that Sonata and Wicca did. As a beauty, as art, with no remorse for the lives lost. Sure the two could act like they felt sorry for the equines, but in their heart, they were just delighted to have the taste of blood, and feel the excitement still in command after the kill. Wiccan smirked, and wondered how soon it would be before the stallion decided just how to regard Wiccan Rede, and Midniht Sonata.

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Key:
Wiccan's thoughts
"Wiccan's Speech"
"Sonata's Speech"

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

R A I S U R
we'll watch the i n j u r e d as they fall one at a time at our
feet and bask in the g l o r y of a new death that taints
the air so v i c i o u s l y then we'll dance our little
d a n c e because that's what we are and that's
what we do; mere c a n n i b a l s

I don't like them.

But of course Tombstone does, and he's not about to leave, no matter how uncomfortable it is for me. Payback. He retorted savagely, causing me to shift my imaginary seat in our split mind. I really, really don't like him. I would turn heel and run, just from that mares first tone of voice. It captured Tombstone's attention though, and after that payback comment, he stopped talking to me. He shifts his weight casually between underdeveloped yearling limbs, regarding them both coolly. You didn't do a good job of hiding it... I smelled you a mile away. Of course he did. I didn't. I was too busy with the dead corpse... oh my gosh. They did that! I didn't do it! That kick was just an involuntary twitch, thank God. I'm good again! Shut. Up. But... I'm so relieved! I don't care. I never have cared. I never will care. He doesn't have to be so rude. Wait, yes he does. He's the banished heir from the scarred warrior. Haha! Eat that, Tombstone.

Oops. Flared his anger.

Tombstone's ears fell flat, his eyes ablaze with hatred and a smoldering flame. His fores slashed through the air, inches before the mares face, though his outrage wasn't at her. JUST BECAUSE I AM A BANISHED HEIR DOES NOT MEAN I AM ANY LESS THAN YOU! He screamed, his voice full of hatred and malice, strangely no regret. The pride wasn't present, for I was the one proud of our perfect body. Not him. He was the one upset about losing his status and constantly trying to regain honor in some way. I swear to God if you don't shut up... Empty threat. He can't do anything to me. His eyes were wild, ears laced to his young skull. Well. If that doesn't tell you much... He was aware that he'd spoken out loud, and was mulling over ways to fix it. I don't know why he tries to fix it, because it's funny how it is, and pretty much unfixable, not like you can take words back. She heard them, the wolf heard them, so now they'll probably kill us for being different. Like Tombstone warned me of.

He's so cautious.

He shifted his weight once again uncomfortably. Well, he wasn't uncomfortable about the fact they were murderers and sadistic. He was uncomfortable about being caught saying he was an exiled heir. Of course, they don't know the reason, but he just yelled at no one. They would probably think he was yelling at them. Haha! I can't wait to see their reaction. Wait, if they kill him, do I die too? Probably, but then I get to go to the gray lands! Where the monsters don't come, because they're stuck on the outer edge. And Tempest! Oh, Tempest, I miss you! Raisur. You are gay. He's just saying that because I like to delve into my thoughts and toy with them, while he's too afraid to show his emotions. Maybe he actually doesn't have any, and I'm just reading off of my own diversions. Hmm... interesting concept. Enough to keep my mind busy while he plays his game. I hope so. If you want me to shut up, don't go pulling me into a conversation. Whatever.

See? He's rude.

Name's Tombstone's Revenge. He stated matter-of-factually, as if it didn't really matter at all what his name was, because it didn't. Not to him. What mattered was the actions and crimes he had committed, because that's what elevates your value on this Earth. At least in his eyes. What's the point of a quick and painless death? The slower... the more grotesque... He had to stop there, and lick at his white lips, because he had begun to salivate at the thoughts. I was repulsed, though. Shame, though. Didn't look like it took much to take her down... no fun there. The way his voice was toned made it seem as though he was losing interest in the two, for targeting such a weak and pathetic source. Guess you have to start somewhere. His voice was mocking, obviously a form of retorting to her mocking him earlier. He could be just as sadistic if he wanted to, and if I let him have control. You didn't let me. Oh yeah. Stupid white light. You want control back?

I'll pass for now.

Tombstone smirked in response to me, though it could easily be in response to what the mare and wolf were saying. My dear, why run from a pair of murderers, when I hold the same desires as you do? He had to mention it. He had those desires, I don't. I hate it. I hate blood. I hate death. I love my monsters. I hate living things. I love corpses. I'm so maniacal, or maybe everyone else is just so sane. No. You're just maniacal. Tombstone shot at me, ending my thoughts. No. You're the maniacal one. You're the one who thinks like all the others. I'm the one who sees things that aren't really there. I sound so happy about that, maybe because I am. Idiot. Tombstone mutters in our shared mind. I really wish I could just be rid of you. Then I could have some fun. Oh. I don't like that. Nope, not at all. I'm actually thinking about taking control back. Right here, right now.

Oh, never mind. Forgot who we were with.

Tombstone smirked, betraying his pleasure at my discomfort. He's so mean to me. He shifted his weight casually, brushing off the fact that he had obviously been talking to himself and excusing it as the mare and wolf were being delusional, should they raise the question. I would expect you to have... other... company... Tombstone whispered, his tones dangerous, yet in a way, not threatening. No, he wasn't on his guard, but he was always coiled and ready to fight should the need arise. His question was, in other words, implying he would expect them to go in a higher populated area. Why lie so low? You've nothing to hide. Hiding your colors is... pitiful. Disgusting. Weak. He was definatly asking for it, in a sense. In another, he was simply musing his thoughts out loud. Of course a maniac can't be expected to hold his tongue, even if the sane alter ego was in control. Perhaps he was overly cocky, or testing the waters.

Either way, it should be fun.

Wordcount;; 1353
Muse;; Average
Comments;; This'll be fun XD I love this charrie <33
Notes;; Tombstone's Revenge's thoughts
Raisur's thoughts
Tombstone's Revenge speaking
Raisur Speaking
Song Credits;; written by me

[Dyzz-semi-back-]

Introducing...


Chapter Three

Intro

Both horse and wolf seemed pleased with the guest they had been gifted with, pleased for his almost sick humor. Pleased with his attitude. Wiccan would even go as far as pleased with his looks to a level. But they still held their guard up till he was to be trusted. Wicca didn’t want turned into the ‘authorities’ before she had a chance to have some fun hear… But hmmm… maybe this stallion could prove useful for the duos…. Little games? He could be an ally of sorts, if he proved trustworthy… time would only tell where this encounter would lead.

Part One;
The Challenger

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No ones perfect:

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She was determined to figure out what this stallion was like. But she had to admit; he had an interesting personality, seeing what his first words were. His words being that of, You didn’t do a good job of hiding it… I smelled you a mile away. She couldn’t help the slight roll of her black orbs that melded into her black façade. Her words were tossed carelessly out. ”Well, I didn’t have a decent amount of time to wash up before you… came into this little meeting… So pardon the smell around me. Though, I personally think it is a fragrant aroma. And it adds little to be desired, no?” Okay, so she decided it was time to be herself. Her cruel dark self. Not that anyone should really mind. Aren’t they always telling you to act like yourself, not to get lost in the crowd. But then something seemed wrong, for the stallion suddenly reared up, and she took a step away from his violently slashing hooves, as his screams echoed around them, JUST BECAUSE I AM A BANISHED HEIR DOES NOT MEAN I AM ANY LESS THAN YOU! He had shouted, his voice full of hatred and malice. Then he seemed surprised to have spoken allowed, for his words were heard again, Well. If that doesn’t tell you much… The Friesian vix’s eyebrows were raised, and she didn’t say anything. But rather she smirked for a moment, then her lyrics hit the air, hinting at amusement, and spoken with crude humor, Sounds like you were having a little bit of a fight with yourself.” She commented dryly.

Are you afraid?:[/color]
So she was amused with the way he was acting, all bashful because he had admitted, whether to himself or to her, that he was a banished, outcasted… heir. Wiccan couldn’t say anything. She murdered her own parents for hell sakes. Her own sister was dead by her hoof when Wiccan was no more then half a year. But it would be amusing to hear his story. She was banished for plunging a fore hoof into her sister’s heart… What did he do. She spoke slowly, Well, exiled or not… you still have the title heir, even if it does come after ‘EXILED.’” So it was a taunt, excuse Wicca for being herself. But she had to admit she was curious, ”What did you do to get banished? IF I may ask? Probably worse then me, if you were an heir. I was banished from my herd before I was a year old. I drove one of my daggers into my own sister’s heart. But then again, the little bitch had bee asking for it.” Wiccan was so demented. She spoke with pride as she calmly stated how she had been banished. Spoke with honor at being able to claim she made her first kill before she was a year old, and it was her sister nonetheless. She wanted to know what an heir would do to… be banished. It would be an intriguing story, and she was very curious of the stallion before her…
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Part Two;
The Serial Killer

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Introductions?:

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He finally gave a name, Name’s Tombstone’s Revenge. And Wiccan had to admit it had an appealing quality to it. A very appealing quality. She grinned, and bowed, though it was a little mocking. ”A pleasure to meet you Tombstone’s Revenge. An interesting, and dark sounding name you had.” She spoke as if it was something to be proud of. Unlike her name. The title of a bible, of a list of rules one was to follow to remain good of heart. She was pretty sure she had broken most of them by now… But oh well. Who said you had to follow the path of your namesake? He spoke again, and Wiccan felt more respect towards him. What’s the point of a quick and painless death? The Slower… the more grotesque…” Wiccan grinned. She liked him a lot… His dark thoughts were… amusing. Just like the way he seemed to be drooling at the thought. Shame, though. Didn’t look like it took much to take her down.. no fun there. She shrugged. ”We’re laying low. After taking out a Queen of my past land, I was traveling threw.. I didn’t want to give my position away to soon. Plus it is the old ones that can be more amusing. They know their end is coming, but the looks on there faces when they see it is but a mere black Friesian that hand delivers them to the grim reaper. Very amusing indeed.” Then it was his turn to reply again. Guess you have to start somewhere. This got a laugh out of the vix. ”Maybe so, but you could probably pick up some tips.” She retorted, a wry smile on her face. Then she spoke, ”Though I advice going for one as old as the mule. Her blood was an unsavory dusty tasting elixir A dreadful taste, truly.

The Dark Soul:[/i]
This was an interesting conversation that I was caught up in. I won’t lie about that. Very interesting to see what this stallion thought of Sonata and me. Very interesting to see his reactions to our words. Though Sonata was being quite now that she had returned. And she had lain at my feet, watching him with uninterested eyes. My dear, why run from a pair of murderers, when I hold the same desires as you? I smirked. How interesting. The same he says? He yearns for the taste of blood running down his throat. He loved the site of causing equines pain. He loved to hear their screams piercing his eardrums. Ya right, now stallion was that perfect. So I spoke of this, my words carelessly spun out for him. ”Really now, you have the same desires? How can you be so sure. Few can stand the sight of blood, but fewer live on it as Sonata and I do.” A glazed look came to my eyes, as I got lost in a few memories. To taste the sweet elixir that brings as well as takes life away. To feel the crimson wine sweep down your throat? Do you, M’Lord Tombstone.” I uncaringly shortened his name. ”Love to see the horror struck looks on your prey’s faces?” yep… Prey… Not victims, prey. ”To see their pain, to hear the sweet melody of screams. A delightful harmony they cause, but few really enjoy it.” I smirked, and waited for his reply to that. How interesting that would be.
[/left][/blockquote]

Part Three;
The Companion

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Why do you dare speak to us so carelessly:
I didn’t like the stag, even if Wiccan did. There was just something to careless about him for me to appreciate, almost as if he was just playing with us. I would love nothing more then to rip him open, and take him down… But for now, I was content to see how he would play with Wiccan and I. He seemed to be playing well for right now. He spoke again, and my ears swiveled forward from atop my head, capturing his ever word. I would expect you to have… other… company…” What the bloody hell did he mean by that I wondered. I growled at his dangerous tones, and stood, my hackles rising, and my venomous words spreading from my muzzle. ”Other Company? What do you mean by that stag?” I demanded. I didn’t call him by his name, nor the shortened version Wiccan had used. I didn’t deal with familiarity often. Sure this stallion seemed dark. But I wasn’t going to let my guard down. Just as Wiccan was still ready to pounce if need be.

What type of equine are you:
Wiccan rolled her orbs, ”Other Company? Sonata and I stick together, and with no one else. We tend to get over react, or our bloodlust… Gets carried away. Its so hard to keep friends alive now a days.” She spoke this almost sadly, and Sonata laughs. A cruel, maniacal sort of laugh, that earns a proud look from Wiccan before they turn back to the stallion. Why Lie so low? You’ve nothing to hide. Hiding your colors is… pitiful. Disgusting. Weak. The stallion’s words made a dark sneer twist on to Wicca’s Façade, ”Now, M’Lord. Who said we were hiding. We're just playing it cool. We’ll show ourselves for real soon. Maybe by attacking a few stupid lights. Or that little filly, Jynxed Halo, or something? That would be a riot no? But hiding our colors? Wiccan presented a fore hoof to him, and it, like all her other hooves was painted red. A mark of killer, just like her sparkling white teeth-white from her diet of… blood. She smirked coolly, You see the red of my hooves? That isn’t the natural color. That, love, is blood. Blood of my many victims. I kill often, to keep the color strong. It’s like trophies. To use my victims blood as my own hoof polish. Now how is that hiding? If I proudly display my bloody hooves?” She asked, smirking with delight. Her eyes were bright as she regarded the stallion, waiting to see his reaction.

[/blockquote]

Part Four;
The View for Afar

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Are you afraid:

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Wiccan knows she isn’t normal, that she is a little on the homicidal, and crazy side. Just as she also knows, very few appreciated her crude humor. She trotted towards the stallion, circling him a little closer then normal, allowing her long wavy black tail to gently drift across the back of his legs, as she did so. ”I have to admit though, Tombstone. You say act as though you are a killer, that you are as cold blooded as one of my kind. But I must ask you… How can I be so sure?” She smiled as, she trotted back to her original spot, making sure to meet his eyes as she passed, to stand once more by her beloved Sonata. ”Are you, Tombstone, really a killer? Or do you just want to fit in?” This wasn’t a jab, or a challenge. More like an invitation to cause some mischief with her and Sonata.

Wanna walk on the dangerous side:
Wiccan smirked at the stallion, then tossed her tassles back, exposing the deep poles of molten oil, that were her eyes. She was probably the only equine with black eyes, but still… ”So, Tombstone. How would you like to play my game? To learn what it really feels like to not just kill, but to kill unmercifully. To make a mess of anything. Blood is never any sweeter, then when earned with coy tricks. And I’ll teach you the one I play best. With my little Sonata… We are unbelievable. And you, you Tombstone, could only make this game, this team better… If you really aren’t afraid to kill.” She threw in a challenge, to ensure he would agree. She had the idea that she could get along well with Tombstone’s Revenge, if given the chance.

Sonata isn’t pleased:
Sonata growled at how Wiccan had just randomly asked this stallion if he wanted to join them. She growled, and glared at Tombstone’s Revenge, ”Wiccan, how can you ask this stag to join us? I mean. We don’t even know if we can trust him. Wicca! You have to be kidding!” She growled angrily, before turning around, and pacing a little bit, obviously not pleased with Wicca, and her choice of who to join them on there games.

My Choice:
Wiccan watched Sonata with worried eyes. She didn’t want her friend mad at her. That would be horrible. She turned to Sonata, and nodded, Of Course. How about we test him first?” Wiccan suggested. She smiled apologetically at Tombstone, and said softly, ”If you don’t mind. Sonata isn’t easy to trust. She doesn’t like equines much.” Her eyes show with her love of Sonata, then the love turned into wicked ness. ”You know, maybe a test could be fun. See if you are worthy of being called malicious?” She smiled, her eyes daring him to accept this challenge. She was going to have some fun after all.
[/left][/blockquote]

Epilogue to Chapter

A sudden sound alerted the Vix’s attention, and she watched a rabbit run in front of her. She reached down with her teeth, and snapped the creature’s spine. ”These vile creatures annoy me. They populate so fast. But they are rather tasty.” She said darkly, as she licked the access blood from her lips. She lowered her head, taking in more of the creature’s blood, and it was evident what it was she was drinking. ”But, they just aren’t the same as feasting on an equine. I find that Arabians are best, between the ages of 5 and 9. Most ripe then.” She shrugged, as she lifted her head, blood dripping down her chin, and eyes slightly wild. IF she didn’t look like a killer before. She surely did now. As blood fell from her jaw, she kicked the rest of the rabbit to Sonata, who happily ate it, licking the bones clean, till nothing but a pile of gnawed on bones remained.

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[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

R A I S U R

I don't like this.

Not one bit. You're doing a really good job of chasing me away. I might as well just pack up and let you have full control. Good. So my plan's working. He did not... did he just say that? Is he really going so low as to hang around two murderers just to get rid of me? Of course not. He loves me too much. You think too highly of yourself. Psh, he loves me. But he's drawn to them. It's like a rat to cheese. Why would he do that? Why fall so low as to fall into anothers snare? Raisur. Stop being so dramatic. Ugh. I can't help it, it's who I am. He's just... he doesn't get me. Never will, either. What a life, to be trapped inside anothers body and sharing control. Others haven't had our problem, at least not in the same sense, not that I've met. Sure, they talk to others in their minds, but how often do they have to fight to control the body? It isn't fair. I want my own body.

So dramatic.

Tombstone shifts his weight uncomfortably, flicking his long, wavy black tail. Well, I didn’t have a decent amount of time to wash up before you… came into this little meeting… So pardon the smell around me. Though, I personally think it is a fragrant aroma. And it adds little to be desired, no? She doesn't know the half of it, yet that's not what's making him uncomfortable. I am. He's perfectly fine with what she says. He actually enjoys it... it's tormenting me. The smell isn't revolting... and others wouldn't be able to pick up on it, unless they've been exposed to it their whole lives... His voice trailed off there, perhaps a dangerous undertone was present, or it was just the twisted part of our mind. I can't figure out which, because... she brings out a different side of him. One I don't know, but I guess I don't know much about him considering I usually have control. Until I get scared. And then I run. Always running.

Until he takes charge.

A smirk crossed his muzzle, considering exposing my existance. Don't you do it, Tombstone! Don't you do it!!! I don't like this, he's actually considering... opening up... to her! About me! He's never told anyone about me, or I about him. Why would he do that? This is just too easy. Getting you all in a fuss. Tombstone jeered at me, and if I could, I would turn my butt to him, but I can't because I'm in his mind. With myself isn't the right terms... A coy smirk spread across his muzzle, yearling limbs shifting his weight casually. Don't. Shut up. Don't go on. Be quiet! God I wish you were mute again... I'm basically pleading, down on my knees, begging. Why is he doing this? I'm not doing anything... yet... I don't like that. Not at all, the tone he said that was so mischeivious, I know he's up to something. I just don't know what. Why can he block some thoughts out of my reach?

So not fair.

His ears flick casually atop his Friesian skull, amusement evident in his eyes, responding to her comment. Well, exiled or not… you still have the title heir, even if it does come after ‘EXILED.' His mind was in that deep dark pit that I myself cannot go in, searching for the right words to respond with. He's so cautious not to let me in. Better to be exiled and play by your own rules... rather than your fathers... A smirk spread across his muzzle at the thought of Spiritspawn, his sire. What did you do to get banished? IF I may ask? Probably worse then me, if you were an heir. I was banished from my herd before I was a year old. I drove one of my daggers into my own sister’s heart. But then again, the little bitch had bee asking for it. She has more in common with us than she thought! I can't believe this. Tombstone, quick, backout now. She's sinking her talons into your mind and dragging you in. This is not good!

Mayday!

Again, his mind was deep, rummaging the pits of memory that I haven't personally demented. Because he won't let me in there. Well, let's start from the beginning... Oh no. He's going to reveal me. Why does he trust her? I don't. Not in the least. I'm a twin, I have a sister named Tempest. Sorry, had. There were no... kings and queens... rather, a Feared One. That was my father, Spiritspawn, and my mother was his leadess, DreamWeaver. He stopped there, pausing for a moment, his muzzle pointing to the sky. Her scent was there, his mother. I thought we got rid of her, she was so... heartbroken after Spiritspawn left. Why did she come? Nevermind. Anyways, Tempest was named Heiress, myself Heir. We... got in a fight. When we were four months old. He tossed his skull, forelock tossing in the movement to cover a dark blue eye, revealing not only a hidden star and blaze mix, but a perfect hoof shaped scar right in the center. Our last symbol of ever having Tempest as a sister, and proving her existence in our story.

His story, sorry.

He felt no need to continue from the fight to explain the scar and what happened afterward. Like how DreamWeaver refused to care for him because there was an enemy near, but finally gave in and collapsed beside him. How Tempest was so proud. That scar... created a new me. A different me. Named Raisur. He did it! Oh, yes I did. He's mocking me now. Meany. He's afraid of you, so he allowed me to have control of our shared body. He's taunting you in our mind. He's going to get me killed. Great. I really should just pack my bags and leave. Good idea. Yeah. Not gonna happen. Raisur didn't surface just yet, though. I went mute. For months. My father disappeared and left my mother to fight the forces that had conspired to kill him. The coward couldn't face his own creation... He laughed at this, and I laugh, too, because Spiritspawn ended up returning to the lands after the war ended. But that's not important.

At least not yet.

The colt shifted weight again, blocking me out and resuming where he left off. Mother backed down, and Tempest rose up. I didn't like that. I wanted the power... I killed her. There was pride in his voice, though I miss Tempest. I really do, she created me, and he killed her. Payback. She had it coming. No, it's not that bad having me around. I grow on you. Her blood was the sweetest. She... stuck to our mothers heritage, and looked Arabian. Except she had feathers around her hooves. Like a Friesian. He didn't bother to include the other breeds, like the Paint, Rocky Mountain, Quarter Horse, Arabian and Friesian that taints his blood. Because it isn't important, and it shows itself in different aspects of our lives. I... destroyed her establishment. She'd moved the whole population to a new land... one move... and it was gone. He licked his lips again, symbolizing just what had done it. That was about it of the story that lead to our... regretable... banishment. Of course they wouldn't let us back into the herd, why would they?

Besides. He doesn't settle for second, and I took over. If that makes sense.

Tomby stepped back, watching how his name affected the mare. If he was gullible, he would believe that she was falling for him, and felt the need to show respect. He's not the gullible one though, I am, and that's what I'm starting to think. Oh Tomby, she's pretty... This resulted in him laughing out loud. Raisur thinks you're pretty. Came his response, and I might as well retreat into the darkest and farthest corner of his already dark mind. Ah, Wiccan's Rede... I find nothing important in a name... yours and Sonata's may inspire much... anguish... in many's eyes, I can see that. His voice was filled with the same mocking respect she had given, his foreleg lifting to stretch out before him and one beneath his stomach, lowering him in a sweeping bow that caused his forelock and mane to gather dirt on the canopy of the Earth. A broad smirk was spread across the yearling's muzzle when he returned to normal stance.

And I'm being quiet and keeping out of this.


We’re laying low. After taking out a Queen of my past land, I was traveling threw.. I didn’t want to give my position away to soon. Plus it is the old ones that can be more amusing. They know their end is coming, but the looks on there faces when they see it is but a mere black Friesian that hand delivers them to the grim reaper. Very amusing indeed. I don't know why he keeps repeating her words in our mind, I think it's to let the effect sink in on me that he has control and I'm just watching from now on. If you killed a Queen, wouldn't that make you one? Oh geeze. I took over and spoke to her. Hysterical laughter erupted, my body writhing in agony at the though. Oh, real nice, Raisur. Thank you so much. He's trying to scare me back. But it won't work... I like being in control. But she's so sadistic, and I don't know who I'm more afraid of.

Or how I even came into control in the first place.

I settle with an earsplitting scream, pivoting on my haunches and blasting through the woods. Away from them. RAISUR! Tombstone's fighting me, and he took me by surprise. I fall, and crash to the ground in a splay of feet. My forelegs are completely tucked beneath me, my haunches raised high, and head pressed to the ground. And then it's dark, and I know Tombstone took control again. He stood up, testing out each muscle individually, stretching them and testing for breaks. How the hell am I supposed to go back to them now? He demands of me, but evidently, he's going to go back no matter what. He was enjoying their company, because it was driving me to insanity's limits and they were like him. Maybe being with them for longer will make you disolve into yourself. He retorts, and I stay quiet because I think that might be exactly what's happening. That's a scary thought, a very scary though. What would you do without me? I'm timid, afraid even, to ask this. He doesn't answer, but I know what he's thinking.

Murder.

He pivots on his hinds, breaking into a high-speed gallop back to the duo. That was... Raisur... He spits my name with disgust. You know, being around you is making him insane. It's killing him, making him disappear... The pleasure in this was so present in his voice, enough to make me start crying. I don't like this, I feel so left out now. What am I supposed to do? He doesn't want me, but I can't leave because I don't have a body to go to... and so he's going to KILL me?!! If I didn't enjoy that symphony, would I really have killed my own sister and her followers? Would I really be enjoying the fact you're killing my alter ego, and relishing with the ideal that it's all because I'm refusing to leave? That makes me cry louder. He's trying to drown me out, but I know he can't hear his thoughts because mine are so overwhelming.

Serves him right.

Tombstone cocked his head, his ears pricking forward as the wolven spoke. If it was me, I would've screamed IT SPEAKS and hightailed it out of there, because she'd most likely kill me for that comment. Most likely. That put an end to that train of thought pretty fast. No need to be offended. You misunderstand. He mused, slightly pleased with the uproar he had caused. I simply mean, I would expect you two... to be in a... more popular place... but you are laying low. He added the last part matter-of-factly. Her next words amused him greatly, to the point laughter seemed to eminate from his eyes, though it wasn't shed from his voice. It was from mine, though. Are you, Tombstone, really a killer? Or do you just want to fit in? He didn't take long to decide what to say. If I was just trying to... 'fit in...' I would chose a much more popular crowd. Like all those darks you see running the alliance. Pitiful. He spat out the word dark, for in his mind, the darks in this realm were just pretending.

Except Midnight Sonata and Wiccan Rede.

He didn't respond to the proposition, for his gaze was fixed on the she-wolf, watching her reaction to the speech Wiccan had prepared for him. A smirk was on his muzzle. He thinks I must be mimicking her, because I'm also very cautious and not liking the idea of him being around them. It isn't safe. No worries. Raisur isn't very trusting of you, either. Actually, he's begging me to leave. He chuckled at this, obviously amused with my plees and woes. And they say I'm insane. That's because you are. That shut me up pretty well, because now, I don't want to speak. I might be called insane. Tombstone shifts his weight once more, flicking his many colored tail casually and shooting a glance at his white stockings. He was comparing his Friesian body to Wiccan, his paint markings amusing him. He thought he looked strictly Friesian, but figures he must have guessed wrong. Considering white markings weren't blessed on his father or any other Friesian we crossed.

We're special!

Ah, so now they're considering... a test? This should be fun, if not interesting at the least. How do you know I'm not faking... He mused to himself, recalling the question he hadn't answered. Well, that's just something that would have to be proved in time. Perhaps a test would do just that, yet perhaps it wouldn't. His voice radiated with wisdom, much like his parents both had, though it was clearly mocking. How do I know you are worthy of being called malicious, and how do I know you just won't backstab me in the end? Hmm... Maybe a test for both of us... He was pretending to appease me, yet it wasn't. Not in the slightest, because I know he's pretending. He hates me enough to pretend. And I love him enough not to argue, hence why I'm keeping my mouth shut. Yet just how could this be achieved? We have a bit of a dilema on our... hooves... He was merrily amusing the thoughts, dancing with them, and enjoying the savory feeling they had to cross his lips.

Because he knew what would come next.

His gaze flicked to the white rabbit, watching it's innocence as it's life ended. But where were the black and grey rabbits? They always had to accompany the white rabbit, for they meant balance. Of course, there was no balance when the white one had been killed. He continued searching briefly, however, and gazed away from the carcass that was bleeding it's life's essence. Larger game amuses me much more than a pesky rabbit. No matter how good the essence tastes... what's better is the thrill of the chase... His gaze flicked to Sonata, smirking broadly. Like that wolf you brought down. It could be considered a compliment, but was, by no means, inteded as one. I think it was, but Tombstone doesn't dish out compliments freely. He isn't like that. His blue orbs gazed back at Wicca, though it seemed he was looking through her. Out into a little clearing, where the elk and carribu would be playing should the wildlife wish to return anytime soon. That game was more pleasurable.

In his corner of our mind, not mine.

[Dyzz-semi-back-]

Introducing...


Chapter One

Intro

serial killer, murderer, demoness, spawn of satan, over and over flashes of those old curses seemed to course threw Wicca’s brain, but rather then feeling sadness from the remembrance of such driagotary statements, Wicca’s pride grew with one. And over the years, she had may curses, shouts, and tears being forced towards her. Screams teling her to go back to hell, it was a mere part of life, to not get along. Wicca just like walking the path of the sick and twisted minded. And for a moment, she forgot about the stallion before her, and rather thought on… thought on the past. Too the moment she really felt the first taste of blood upon her tongue. The first time she pierced her sister’s heart threw. She had been so angry… so angry at the little wench. She was always talking bad about her Sonata. And Wiccan… Wiccan had warned her… She had warned her, but when she kept taunting. Wiccan lost it all, and drove her foredaggers into the young flicka’s chest. But it wasn’t her fault. She had been the little bitch’s fault. If she had left Sonata the well enough alone, Wiccan might not have been the killer she had become… But then again. Who knows. All she knows now is that… Is that she is who she is. And she is a killer, a murderer, a helper of the grim reaper. So… What ever. She didn’t care what the others thought. Because, inside, the Vixen was like most other darks in the world. Just a little more twisted, and maniacal. That’s all.

Part One;
The Challenger

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Who different you are?:

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Wiccan looked at Tombstone as he spoke calmly in reply to her words of why she smelled of… Blood. The smell isn’t revolting… and others wouldn’t be able to pick up on it, unless they’ve been exposed to it their whole lives… Wiccan raised an eyebrown, but calmly turned over these words first. Thinking about it, she spoke her soft, yet hissing tones, ”Well then, if you are so certain that few others would pick up on such an aroma, why bring it into question?” She said simply, then dismissed the thought completely. Not going to bring it up again. Problem solved, obviousily the stallion didn’t mind. Why I mentioned the fight with himself that he held, he merely replied, With myself isn’t the right terms… The smirk confused Wiccan, and her black eyes narrowed, ”Is that so? Then what would be the right terms?” She asked, more to herself, then to him, obviousily not caring for a reply. She smirked slightly, and returned her full attention to the oddly painted friesian.

Story time, what do you know!?:[/color]
I had spoken of his terms as heir… EXILED Heir that is, and his words surprised me, as a smirk had spread across his muzzle, Better to be exiled and play by your own rules… rather than your fathers… I thought on this for a second, then nodded, ”I can relate.” I say simply. I preferred the freedom I am allowed now. But… I couldn’t ever imagine giving any of it up… The thought was… just terrible! I shot down my own parents when they humbly thought they could… could simply take my freedom away. Then Tombstone surprised me. Well, let’s start from the beginning… My eyes shown with brightness. I was really going to get the story?! I was truly enlightened! I was excited. Then he began, starting with his heritage… I guess that was the true beginning. He was a twin, how unique. I’m a twin, I have a sisiter named Tempest. Sorry, had. He said it so calmly. He went on to speak of the fact their were no Queens and Kings, and such. Just a ‘Feared One.’ Who was his father, Spiritspawn. And how his mother had been the stallions lead vixen, Dreamweaver. He stopped talking to look up, then began again. Anyways, Tempest was named Heiress, myself Heir. We… got in a fight. When we were four months old. He flipped his foretresses, exposing a star-blaze streak that had a hoof shaped scar in the center. Wiccan’s eyes widened, but she remained silent like a good audience. He had even capulaited sweet Sonata’s attention now. He kept speaking, of how the scar had created a new him. A different me. He had stated, Named Raisur. Now Wiccan was truly interested. Another him? Like, an alter ego? She let him continue though. He’s afraid of you, so he allowed me to have control of our shared body. He’s taunting you in our mind. Wiccan’s black abyss, that she announced eyes, narrowed with slight anger. ”Taunting me?” Some coward who is to afraid to show himself, was taunting her. IMAGINE!. Then she smirked. ”He’s afraid of me? He… Raisur.” She spoke the name as if it was the most vile thing in creation, and like she didn’t want to ever touch it again. ”He’s afraid of me? Really? He hasn’t seen anything yet.” She said, some dark humor was fulling her words.
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Part Two;
The Serial Killer

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Your Story Continues:

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Then he kept speaking, of how Raisur didn’t surface immediantly, and how he had gone mute, and his father left, not able to face him. He laughed at it, and she smirked delicately. Then he continued once more, Mother backed down, and Tempest rose up. I didn’t like that. I wanted the power… I killed her. He said it with such pride. It made her smile in cruel amusement. He spoke of how her blood was sweetest, stuckin in his mother’s heritage, and looked Arabian. Except for friesian feathering. Then he continued of how he destroyed her… establishment was his word. He spoke, then licked his lips, causing me to laugh. Then like that, he stopped his story, it had come to an end. ”A very intresting life you had…” She said almost as if it was a childhood fairy tale. Then when he spoke his name, and she gave her reply. He laughed. Wiccan glared, till he explained, Raisur thinks you’re pretty. Her eyes lit with pure surprise…

The Dark Soul:[/i]
It was odd. I had never… EVER been referred to as pretty. Sure, I knew that my long wavy black locks shone just right in the sun, and I kept my black coat shimmery like oil. But my pure black eyes and dark attitude, and aura kept the word ‘pretty’ from most minds. Then, Tombstone gave his reply to her name. Ah, Wiccan Rede… I find nothing important in a name. yours and Sonata’s may inspire much… anguish… in many’s eyes, I can see that. He had returned the mock respect, and bowed to me, causing her to snort in amusement, and roll those pitless dark eyes of mine. As I told of why I was laying low, I heard an almost different voice leave Tombstone. It had a more innocent quality, and seemed surprised, saying, If you killed a Queen, wouldn’t that make you one?[/color] Before the stag could do anything, my reply was already in the air, ”Like I would want such a disgusting job.” So simple. Then he suddenly screamed, and ran away. Ran away from me. I watched with amusement, as he fell, and crashed hard against the ground. Ahhh… So that… was Raisur. I realized. The fool had run from me. Against my better, and predatory instincts, I stayed put. He really shouldn’t have run. You never run from a predator, it only makes us want to chase, then tend to kill. Then I see him returning, or is it Raisur. No it was Tombstone… he, after all, was returning now. He spoke, That was… Raisur… He spoke his double’s name so angrily, so hissingly, that I smirked, ”I had figured so.” I said simply. Then he continued, You know, being around you is making him insane. It’s killing him, making him disappear. I laughed again, and turned to abserve the stallion, Tombstone, ”Was that suppose to be a pick up line?[/i] I teased darkly, before going back to normal. We quickly resorted our conversation back to what we were going at. Igf I didn’t enjoy the symphony, would I really have killed my own sister and her followers? Would I really be enjoying the fact you’re killing my alter ego, and relishing with the ideal that it’s all because I’m refusing to leave?” I laughed. ”Glad to be of service.” I said, then said in my sweetest voice, that sounded to girly and femimine to my taste, like a damned light. ”Should I apologize to Raisur for upsetting him, oh how I hate hurt people. Imagine doing such things on purpose.” Hey, if I was killing the fucker, why not taunt it as well. So yes.. I may be speaking to Tombstone, but I knew Raisur had heard that. Had heard my sweet call, with a venomous undertone, that spoke of my taunting. It was so much fun to mess with other’s minds… It is truly delightful
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Part Three;
The Companion

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I don’t like you:
I hate to admit, but I was surprised by the damn truth, the one that this ‘Tombstone’s Revenge’ character seems to have two sides. How delightfully amusing!? I snarled slightly, but my eyes were a lit with humor. ”Oh yes! Because you would never hurt a fly, Wiccan.” Wiccan made a face, ”Nasty little vile bugs!” Wiccan spat, causing me to laugh darkly. It wasn’t any surprise to hear this sort of thing from Wiccan, she hated bugs. But back to the stallion. He spoke to me… almost like an equal. I think… No, he was just being is own damn stupid self. Damn, stallion. No need to be offended. I snarled, hackles up, but allowed him to keep going, You misunderstand. I snorted. ”I miss understood? Ya right.” I snarled angrily, my fangs exposed, and dripping saliva down to the ground as I growled my warnings. He continued despite it all. I simply mean, I would expect you two… to be in a… more popular place… but you are laying low… I bit back my snappish response, of ‘no shit Sherlock.’ I don’t think he would enjoy that… Not at all. When Wiccan Question if he was truly a killer, I grew even more… amused. This was indeed delightful… Indeed…

You think your so big and bad…:
If I was just trying to… ‘fit in…’ I would chose a much more popular crowd. Like all those darks you see running the alliance. Pitiful. Wiccan nodded, already knowing this, but a smirk was already appearing. ”touché.” She said simply, nodding to him, showing him that she accepted his answer, and he had defiantly just passed an unknown test. Even I could tell that he meant it. How odd. An equine that stroke me of more of a wolf then a horse… How odd indeed. Then Wiccan said those disqusting words! Actually suggesting he ride with us. My slowly calming expression was soon twisted into a grim, horrorfied snarl, low dangerous growls built up in my throat. ”No! Absolutely not! He is far from worthy. Look at him! HE IS EVEN A PURE BLACK EQUINE! You yourself praise your black coat, saying it is the sign that you have no brightness in your damned soul. He must be half good to have such a painted coat… utop a friesian build no less!” I shouted, my anger showing high. Then he spoke, the damned horse, No worries. Raisur isn’t very trusting of you either. Actually, he’s begging me to leave. I snorted, and rose to my paws, my long claws clicked against the ground. ”Oh, is Raisur that scared. Maybe he can come out and…” I allowed my muzzle to drop upon, showing glistening, razor sharp canines, coated in drooling saliva. Not a pretty picture, but scary enough to make many horses faint in ferar. ”Play.” I finished with a dark laugh. I might have some fun yet.

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Part Four;
The View for Afar

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Tests?:

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Here they were, discussing ideas, as if they were planning a party… Maybe they were-that party being a funeral… He spoke simply, How do you know I’m not faking… He said so dimply. Well, that’s just something that would have to be proved in time. Wiccan smirked, and said calmly, ”Already planning to stick by me, I’m delighted.” So she was finding it fun to twist his words. she wondered, suddenly, if she could get him to ‘loose’ it all. Oh how joyfull that would… BE! He spoke again, Perhaps a test would do just that, yet perhaps it wouldn’t. Wiccan was surprised by the wisdom that pulsed threw his voice, though it was complete mockery. She had to admit, it was true. Then he spoke again, How do I know you are worthy of being called malicious, and how do I know you won’t backstab me in the end? I spoke my words with clear amusement. ”Because I couldn’t watch the surprised look on your face from behind, Silly!” It was spoken so brightly, someone might have mistaken it for me speaking the truth. But anyone with half a brain could tell that I was merely laughing at him for thinking such a thing. Raisur was probably trying to tell him how I meant it all, in other words. Hmmm… Maybe a test for both of us…” A wicked grin came into form on my façade.

Darknes, Death, and other Fun “D” Games:
This was fun! Truly amusing! Tombstone seemed to be speaking more to mock his other side, as well as Wiccan. But Wiccan only met it with mockery of her own. ”oh! Yay! A Test! What must a do this time?! Take out the emporer of China?” She asked, smirking as she asked this. She was indeed having fun. Yet just how could this be achieved? We have a bit of a dilemma on our… hooves… Suddenly Wiccan laughed, laughed very darkly indeed. ”Why not test each other, by seeing if we could truly aid each other in hunt. A hunt that will bear decent fruit. I settle with nothing less then the gold, but we… we might make it to the Platinium, if we work together, Tombstone.” She said, as if inviting him to tea, rather then on a Serial Killer run!

Dinner for Sonata, and fresh blood for WIccan:
The Rabbit came from nowhere, but the blood was warm against Wiccan’s throut. Ah, the sweet elixir of life. So devine… So delicious. She smirked at Tombstone, and slowly licked the blood from around her muzzle, savoring in the taste. Larger game amuses me much more than a pesky rabbit. Wicca felt the same way. But blood was blood. And some of those larger game… tasted to rubbery and wild in their blood. She… she missed polar bear, that was for sure. No matter how good the essence tastes… a pause. what’s better is the thrill of the chase. Wiccan nodded, and Sonata looked at Tombstone, only to see him gazing at her. Like that wolf you brought down. Sonata shrugged. ”I hate having my name tossed around before I am ready. Wiccan and I want to be announce her with a BANG!” She said suddenly smirking as the dark thoughts rolled threw her head. Oh! How fun that could truly be! The games she could play, the horror they could do. Take out horses and wolves alike in one major attack! SHE WANTED! NEEDED! HAD TO TOTALLY DO THAT SOMEDAY! She suddenly jumped back into reality. And thought on that thought at a different level, beginning to plan the things she and Wiccan could do so that they could… Could plan on how to kill them all. All those damn little annoying jerks… Those too prissy faes, the too full of themselves stags. They could have some fun with this. She knew it, as did Wiccan. And Slowly Sonata began to pick out which equines to attack, which wolves to attack..> The Lights. Simple as that. None other would be as fun. It would be the lights that would be the best to attack. Show those damn fools the true darkness of this earth. But the Darks too, show them causualty. Just imagine. IMAGINE! Showing them true darkness. She could kill of Joker, and what ever little mare was currently his favorite. Kill them dead, and show the others of their alliance, how a real dark acts. It would indeed be a sight to see.

Wake Up, Sonata:
Wiccan noticed the glossy, dangerous look in Sonata’s eyes. She was planning something. Something big. Wiccan nudged the wolf, causing the wolf to titter slightly, before waking up to glare at her. ”I was planning our big event.” She growled, but didn’t allow herself to get lost in ideas again. Wiccan looked back at Tombstone, tosee him looking… past? her and into the field beyond? She turned slightly, and saw a simple clearing, where wild life might graze… The Larger… wild… life… oh. A smirk turned up on her face. ”How about occompuning Sonata and I in a hunt. You pick the species?” She offered, curious to see how Tombstone would hunt, and wether he would devore the carcess, or just tear it up. She’d devore… but that is just Wiccan. ”Think about it. Any creature, any species, just take it down!” She said simply, trying to tempt him into agreeing. A true hunt. She was long past due of one, and who best but to get accumpined by the one that reminded her to be true to her evil little self.
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Epilogue to Chapter

Darkness was closing in, had closed in. No stars about. No moon shining bright. The cold night air drifted around them. And in the night silence, Wiccan let a true smile flitter once to her face, as she gaze at the cold heavens above. Her smile, though true, was laced with malice, and darkness. And though a scary sight, it could considered appealing by the right kind of equines. Not that Wiccan was thinking of this. She was wondering how delightful a midnight, starless-moonless, hunt would be. She was excited… and she wanted to go!

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[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

R A I S U R

He shifted weight once again.

Something he seems to be doing often. He hasn't had control of the body in a while, so of course he's testing out what I've done to it. Because I'm always the bad one, who messes things up and makes them bad. Bad in a sense Tombstone doesn't like. In a sense that makes him hate me, and wish he was all alone again. Raisur, I always wish you were gone. I'm just going to stop talking to him, and I know I've vowed that a lot... but it's hard to keep, an easy vow to make though. I don't want him thinking he can control what I think through manipulating my emotions by playing with them, like he so often does. I think he got that from his mother. She's... always so... kniving. Always has a plot, to get her on top. In a non perverted way, because I've never seen her that way. Of course, she thinks I'm her son, so maybe she's never tried to lead me in that direction. She's power hungry.

Like Tombstone used to be.

A smirk crossed Tombstone's muzzle, after blocking out everything I had to think about and going into his own void of thoughts. I think I'm going to give up penetrating that shield into his mind... then when he lets his guard down... BAM! And I'll be in. Guiness. Except I heard that. Oops. Oh yeah. Drats. "Well then, if you are so certain that few others would pick up on such an aroma, why bring it into question?” He let me listen to that thought, momentarily leading me to believe that I penetrated that shield already. But it wouldn't be that easy. He's... like an onion! He has layers. Not like a cake, because it's sweet. Like Shrek. That loveable ogre... Why do I bring it in question... He mulled aloud now, to pull me out of my thoughts and so I would listen to his. I took the bait all too eagerly. Because... I'm just speaking of equine senses. Wolves are much more advanced... They pick up on more. Sonata could tell you that... His voice... held respect... for the wolf?!!

This is so not him. I like it.

Even if it wasn't meant to be answered, he'd decided to answer it anyways. Not to annoy her, but to annoy me. I hate hearing his voice. It isn't natural, because I would much rather be hearing mine. The correct terms would be... fighting with my alter ego. He lifted his skull a bit higher, as if proud that he himself had been blessed with this... curse... as he calls it. Doesn't he make me feel special? I mean, I'm a blessed curse. I can't just be a friend, I have to be a nuissance and insulted at every turn. It's called RESPECT, Tombstone. You have it for her, why not me? My voice was pleading, begging even. He should take mercy on that pitiful tone. Because, Raisur. You haven't earned any respect, unlike them. You've earned my disgust. He flicked his tail in dismissal of me, pinning his ears and burrying them beneath the black and white mass of a mane he had been... cursed with.

I can do insults too, you know. They're just not very good.

A snort escaped his muzzle, his thoughts being pulled, once again, back into the dark depths of banishment. Many would think of it as something he would be ashamed of, yet it wasn't. He relished in it. It was... his pride, in a way. A symbol of exactly what he had done in his life, and the more often he was exiled, as she put it, from a group, the better. It simply meant none would bother him, simply look upon him and whisper. "There goes the exiled heir." "What did he do?" "I heard he murdered his sister..." "I heard he went up to his mother, ripped her guts out, and ATE them!" But of course, they were always rumors, and thus exagerated. Some wouldn't even have happened. Like the mother, for example. He hadn't lain a single hoof on her, or misplaced a single one of her 'perfect' hairs in her 'perfect' hide. Not because he loves her. Because she's responsible for creating him, and should thus be alive to see what he can and will do. Only then can she be killed.

Why do I have to share a mind with HIM?!!

Him, of all creatures. Of course, I could be stuck with Wiccan's Rede or Midnight Sonata. That would be hell, as well. Maybe they wouldn't be as vicious then, because I would be manipulating them. But look at Tombstone. He pretended to fall victim to my games, and now he's... he's... WORSE than ever. Oh, good job, Raisur. Why are you so light? Look at your name. Pronounce it. Raisur. It's pronounced Razor. Razor's are what emo people use to cut themselves. Tombstone taunts me, but it does have it's effect. Am I really something people use to attempt suicide? Only thing keeping me form trying it is you usually have control. He retorts, sarcasm hidden from my hold. Wow. I feel so... so... horrible. Am I really that bad? Yes. I should just go. Away. Climb a mountain and live by myself. There's a problem with that. What? Where ever you go, I go, too. Not that I particullarly want to.

Oh yeah. I'm stumped now.

Tombstone smirked savagely. You're in for it now, old chap. He taunted, grinning ear-to-ear in our mind. I officially decided, we can see each other in our mind. For... conversational purposes. He claims he can see one's soul, and he's attempting to... cleanse mine. Not very successful, I'm afraid. He faked disappointment, the expression on his face dawning on the fact that, mockingly, he wanted to be a light. That his heart was secretly desiring it. I don't think it's good for him to do all this mocking and pretending, where will it get him in the end? I think they're going to get mad. Then they'll attack him, and he'll fight gallantly... but a yearling? I mean come on. He'll die, and I'll take over the dying body, laugh, and then die, too. And I don't want to die. Tombstone may have a deathwish every now and then, but I relish in life. Because I get to spend it with him. Okay. You're gay. I knew it! Wait...

Is that a good thing?

Tombstone's eyes flashed with amusement, watching the two midnight colored vixens that he had snuck up on... with the intent of murdering in the first place, now as a companion. Life's funny like that sometimes. Oh yes. Don't I sound so dark? He questioned, sarcasm in his voice. So many darks he had met made up their tales, about having murdered whole herds, their parents, everything. To make others fear them. I'm not like that. Nope, I haven't killed anything. Because you're afraid to. So? It just means I'm not afraid to be who I am? And I am? No, you're not... I wish I was a wolf. Idiot. Unlike those who claim to have done that... I have, but I don't need to prove myself. So, it will go unproved. You'll just have to take my word. The colt stated simply, flaring his nostrils slightly, as if saying he was done with that subject. Yet he wasn't. He wouldn't mind continuing it. A sadistic smirk crossed his muzzle.

She would just have to believe him.

A smirk crossed Tombstone's muzzle, for now that he had control again, he could answer the fae without me interrupting. Am I really such a nuissance? Yes. Finally, you see it. Maybe there is a God! Oh yeah, shutting up now. Tombstone tilted his skull, mulling over the titles so many fought for yet so little recieved. They had to be worth something, though not much, because let's face it, they wouldn't be fighting for nothing. Though I wouldn't be surprised if they were, in all actuality. Kings and Queens, such a petty namesake. None of them actually deserve it, when you think about it. He mused, though more to himself. Let me tell you, his muse isn't sweet, but it sure is sweeter than his normal tone. It's surprising, how one can go from completely lethal to just plain dark yet still be effective in the force of his voice. I don't like it, and I don't like Tombstone. I want to get out of this mind. I want my own body.

Or at least this one back.

Not going to happen. I sighed in our shared mind. A pickup line? Ha, that's cute. I still think she's pretty, maybe that should be a pickup line. Yeah? I have a better one. For you. Go to hell. Real mature. Only if you want it to be. He teased back, that malicious and sadistic tone in his voice once more. All is fair in love and war, after all. Not that this was the same ordeal, because... Tombstone doesn't love her, although I do. Tombstone doesn't love... anyone. Except Naussica. But she left, so I guess he's available again. Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't want to love, I think he does. Do not. He snorts, and I laugh, because... he denied it. When you deny something, it makes it true. But then how do you turn down a lie? I guess you can't. But I think Tombstone's got a soft spot for her, with her being so like... him.

If she's like him, why do I like her?

Okay, I don't like her anymore. She's mean! Are you going to let her say that to me? Yup. Why do I care? You know what? I'm having a hard time keeping my mouth shut. You haven't kept it shut. Ugh. Failure. Well... that would be nice. But it wasn't nice of Raisur to take control of my body and part of my mind in the first place. So, I wouldn't appologize. His voice held a sing song note to it, similiarly taunting to me. And God, is it working. My mind's too easy to toy with, considering I'm the result of a head injury. What else is to be expected? I don't think all the side effects that come along with me are usual, though. They only happen when I have control, unfortunatly. I'd like to see Tombstone deal with passing out all the time. It isn't fun, and I'm more than willing to show him that. In that unconcious realm... my heaven. He doesn't belong there.

I do.

His blue eyes locked on the wolf, taking in he reactions with great amusement. She shouldn't let him bug her so much, because that, in itself, could be considered a weakness. Too quick to jump to conclussions, too quick to anger. It can get you in trouble in the end. Of course, that's why he won't say this out loud, but rather in our mind. Midnight Sonata, He started, using her full name because... it was respectful... and he doesn't know how she'd react to him using a nickname, and we both agree it probably wouldn't be pretty. What do you want me to do to make you approve of me? He didn't bother asking "do you not like me? do you want me gone?" or anything along those lines, because hell, it's obvious. His voice should have held the mocking tone he was using with Wiccan, but that was only because she seemed to approve. Nope, not it held a respectful glint that I only saw him use around his father in very rare cases, like when he was trying to sneak off with Naussica... when he was normal.

We're far from normal now.

He gazed, almost involuntarily, at his coat. The splashes of white remained only on one shoulder blade, his stockings, and blaze and star combination. Not to mention the whites and greys mixed in with his admittingly long mane and tail. A black coat, huh? Since when did coat colors define one's intentions? He questioned, remembering something his fahter had said about paints. My father said... 'Paints can't be trusted until you really know them. They may hold beauty, but for as many colors they have, they have that many sides.' Raisur's my other side, and... you've met him. So, there's the white. The grey is just a mixture between us... in our shared soul. He hadn't thought of it like that before, hadn't needed to, nor had the chance. Actually, when it boils down to it, he had forgotten that he was a paint at all. His attention drifted to his coloration for a while, though his breed caught his attention. ... atop a friesian build no less! Were the words in question.

He chuckled at the thought.

They hadn't guessed his crossbreeding. My crossbreeding. Our crossbreeding, happy now? No, I'm never happy. He mocked, though I'm going to take it seriously. Becuase I can do that. Because I'm Raisur, name said like Razor. Ha! Yes, a Friesian build. Though not purely Friesian. I'm... Arabian, Friesian, Paint, Rocky Mountain, and Quarter Horse. He recited the breeds, fumbling over them slightly because... he hadn't ever admitted to them. He's only ever shown them through different aspects of his life. Like... Friesian in build and muscle, Paint in coloration, Arabian in endurance, Rocky Mountain in surefootedness, and Quarter in speed. Put them all together, and you get the best damn sportshorse ever made, the best runner, fighter, anything. Or, better yet. Us. You're exagerating. We aren't... best. Not us. I'm better off on my own than with you, and the breeding has little to do with it. It's just a formality. He snorted, but I know the truth. Bloodlines have everything to do with it, and he wouldn't be anywhere without me.

Because we're a team like that.

That wolf is even worse than Wiccan, I have to admit. That's pretty bad, considering... wait, no, I'll be quiet now. See, now I'm imagining myself running into the deepest corner of our mind and hiding in a cave, and all you can see are two glowing green eyes. Because I have green eyes in our mind, because I'm that cool. And see the glowing red eyes? Those are mine. I'm coming to kill you now. He snorted, and I screamed and cover my eyes with my forelegs, because in fantasy world, anything is possible. Including that. Through thick and thin. Tombstone mocked his reply to sticking by her, almost saying till death do us part. Almost. Her reaction to that would be funny, yet even saying that is tempting the Fates. By Fates he means hunters, but there are no hunters worse than these two, so how could they bring him down? Ah, to hell with it. Till death do us part. He recited, the sarcasm and amusement evident in not only his eyes, but his body language, eyes, and well... everything.

He's that damn cool.

A sudden smirk crossed his muzzle at her next words, though he shook his skull in fake dissappointment. No, too easy. He can't even defend himself! The way he said it made it seem like he pitied the defenseless, yet that wasn't it. Rather... the defenseless wouldn't be a good enough test. They weren't... powerful enough. His ears flicked in indifference, as if they didn't understand the thoughts in his mind and were on lookout for intruders, though with the crew he was with, what could sneak up on him? And the question after that, what would even want to try and ambush this threesome? Okay, not a threesome. That's just... disturbing. Trio sounds better, in my opinion. You fancy yourself immortal. I mused, because it's true. He's starting to think he's untouchable, yet he knows the truth and I'll remind him of it every so often. No. Hiding behind immortality shows weakness. I would rather die to someone who could kill me, because that's an honorable death. He shot back at me, and I'm silenced.

I know that's true.

His mind echoed her words, repeating each syllable exactly how she'd said it. I'm analyzing it like a girl, because girls over analyze everything to the last detail until they can't analyze it anymore. Decent fruit means exposing yours and Midnight Sonata's existence, as well as mine. At the moment... they only know of Raisur. He added the last with a tinge of disgust, yet also something along the lines of pride. He was proud he'd remained hidden and hadn't blown his cover in a sense, disgusted that he's had to lay in hiding in our mind for so long when he could've already been out and causing torment. I wouldn't let him, though, only when these two are around to keep him in check. Otherwise, we would have a wildfire at our heels chasing us down and trying to kill us. By wildfire, I mean ever surviving member of Penori, chasing us down for vengence. I really do hate vengence, because that means you're only doing it to get back at someone.

Tombstone does it for fun.

We both sunk into our own thoughts, following the silence that was to come after Midnight Sonata spoke. A big bang could mean so many things. I'm imagining a hammer falling and trying to kill me, because it says bang. Tombstone's pondering over ways to truely shock the inhabitents and caust massive destruction. I'm tempted to paint across his black hide "DANGER. DO NOT FEED IF YOU WANT TO KEEP ALL LIMBS, HOOVES, TAILS, EARS, AND OTHER APPENDAGES." because it would only make a fair warning, so they know what they're up against. 'Course, that could also mean they would be attracted to his presence to tempt him and see just what those words were all about. Imagine, if you will, a place worse than the Scarred Warrior. Were instead of listening to one because they were afraid of him, they would listen because they knew they were going to die anyways. How perfect would that be? I know there's no chances of reforming the dark alliance; they're too far gone. But maybe... a Thestral alliance could be made, considering that's what best describes myself, and these two as well. Though... what of a ruler?

Tombstone be quiet, you're scaring me.

Tombstone snorts, snapping himself out of his thoughts. That could be arranged. He chimed, answering Sonata about the bang. It could be... fun. He stated, glancing over at Wiccan with a questioning look. Have you heard of the Thestral alliance? They're darker than the darks. They kill mercilessly and for entertainments purposes. No fear of death, and they know what life's all about. It's values and worth... normally, they travel alone or in small bands of two or five, to wreak havoc on those who fancy themselves... immortal, powerful, and untouchable. You and Midnight Sonata fit that description, I like to think. Perhaps there are some Thestrals left, after all. Perhaps... His voice droned out there, though he was by no means done speaking. Perhaps we could restart that alliance, yet not make it official. So we can decide who comes in and out of it, without a king or queen, and only those worthy enough should bear the name Thestral... His imagination, mixed with mine, was getting the better of him.

Incase you couldn't tell.

Of course, what he spoke about was true. The reason behind making it unofficial? It wouldn't be caught up in petty disputes over who rules it, because it wouldn't be ruled per say, rather guarded, so only those worthy could be let in. And once in... you would only be let out by death. He smirked involuntarily when these thoughts occured to him, yet he was truely interested in how the two would take to the Thestral alliance, and whether they even knew about it in the first place. That sounds ravishing. He didn't know what ravishing meant, but heard it so many times in that context and had thus decided it would fit. Any species? Interested in making our existence known so soon? He questioned with a truely dangerous smile, one of his first real ones since... Naussica. He trained his gaze on both of them, for he had proposed two ideas that needed approval, and was currently trying to drown out a Lust that was rising within him. The Lust for death, decayance, blood, macabre, horror, and all other things he considered good.

At least in his mind.

Tombstone's Revenge stood stock still, his muscles outlined clearly in the night. His feathers and lengthy locks were teased in the breeze, his ears swiveling to pick up on any and every noise, as if his life depended on it. Yet we know otherwise. He was doing this for signs of... life that could be taken away... especially in it's prime, for what's better than that? His gaze was still trained on the two, marveling over how such a... sadistic and horribly delicious mare could be so appealing, even in this lighting. He didn't know why, but deep inside, there was a pulling sensation, tugging him toward her, while I stood on the other end of the rope trying to tug back. And these two are winning this game of tug-o-war, unfortunatly that means me losing. And if I lose, what will happen in the end? What becomes of me, and where will I go from there? I'm just a voice inside a head, occasionally allowed to take control over a body to stretch out muscles and enjoy life. Those times I'm not aloud to though, I'm going to be stuck watchign the macabre.

What a life.

[iivie]

[[ O.o wow... i've been reading over this. it's.... amazing! i was wondering.... i have an evil wolf; his name is Kyrious. i wanted him to be in Marauder's Band, but that's not working out too well, considering that both the other people in it are inactive at the moment. BUT, i thought, if it was okay with you guys, maybe he could join with your characters? Two horses (techincally three, haha.), one(two) male one female, and two wolves, one male one female? i've been dying to roleplay more, and this is just TOO freaking interesting to pass up the oportunity. it fits Ky's personality so well too, haha. He's a natural born killer, just like your characters. But if it doesn't work out, then it's okay. :] Just a thought. ^^ i'll keep reading this roleplay either way, haha. Oh and i'm sorry for interupting, i'll delete this post once someone replies, if you want, to take any spam away. cx]]

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

Done.

Thank you iivie ^^ i don't have a problem with it if dyzz doesn't, the more the merry as the saying goes =P sorry for the delay in finishing my post;; i hit a writers block, but i finished it with 4008 words i think it said. don't worry about interrupting, it's fine =P glad you asked instead of just posting, though. ^^ like i said, if dyzz is okay with it, so am i.

[iivie]

[[hehe, awesome, thank you, Dream. ^^ i'll wait for Dyzz to reply. :] And congratz! =DD 4008 words! That's awesome! hehe, you are my inspiration. c: And so is Dyzz. i just LOVE this idea, and both of your characters are just so... different, unique. i love it. ^^]]

[Dyzz-semi-back-]

*Sure iivie, as long as you can keep up, Just kidding!!!!! *smiles* THe more the merrier, adn it will give em more of to play off of. So ya, go ahead and join! Go ahead and post before I do... *smirks* I want to have more to play off of, os that I can totally beat Dream's post! I have to have more words now! I think Dream and I may start having to compete with this. Cause both of our charries seem to have amazing muse!!!! So go ahead and post!*

[iivie]

)(hehe, oh, i will! XD haha, thank you Dyzz! =D You two are both amazing role players.)(

I am the mastermind
Leaving you all behind
And that ain't no fucking lie

Pale moonlight showered upon the terrain, creating shadows of bare, skeletal tree branches to crisscross one another. The silhouette of a rather large creature could be seen in the distance, standing at the edge of the forest. The few rays of sunlight that escaped through the shadows, speckled his thick ebony coat here and there, though his face remained hidden within the darkness. Blood red eyes pierced the night, gleaming an unnaturally bright green as they shifted over the land before him. He watched for any signs of movement, his eyes catching even the slightest twitch of grass when the wind blew by; creating a soft symphony of melodic whistles as it passed through the leaves of the canopy overhead.

I am the mastermind
It's just a problem of mine
It's like columbine

Tall, pointed ears pricked atop his rather large maw, listening. His acute hearing could make out the sound of crickets, as they sang their erotic song to one another; blending with the sounds of the passing breeze behind him. What he was waiting to hear didn't meet his ears as he had hoped, but he didn't let the disappointment bother him. He would just have to wait for now. Keep traveling until he found what he was looking for. His weight shifted a bit, as he flexed his unusually long claws into the dirt underneath them. The night was still young. He lifted his gaze to sky, where a million glittering stars dotted the surface; but he passed over them to stare into the moon as if looking for guidance from the beautiful orb of light that seemed to shine upon him now, like a spotlight. The shadows had shifted, slowly drifting from his body, as the lemony light engulfed him. His face, as well as the rest of his enormous, masculine body could now be seen clearly.

Your time has come
Kiss it all good-bye
Your time has come
Kiss it all good-bye

The canine stood at a well, four feet, being a wolf that was considered tall. For some, unnaturally tall. Though it wasn't this that made this wolf seem so deadly. His fangs could be seen at anytime. They jutted from his upper jaw, one on either side of his short muzzle, and draped over his bottom lip. They weren't anywhere near what you would call normal sized canine teeth, they were more like the well-known and extinct saber tooth. Another thing about them, though they appeared a pure ivory at first glance, if you looked closely enough the blood of past kills could be seen. They stained through his fangs, running in thin streams, like veins within the thick bones. His claws were nearly the same. They grew from his vast black paws, in a less curved angle than normal wolves, and stretched far out, almost as long as his fangs. They were thick, but thinned at the point, for he always sharpened them. Underneath their clear surface, you could sometimes see the darkened blood of prey, though he usually kept them clean, as well as his glistening white fangs.

Muscles rippled under his short, thick coat, as he lifted his massive paws from the ground and began moving forward once more. The wind whipped at his face, ruffling through the mane that surrounded his maw, neck, chest and shoulders. It thinned as the fur ran along his back, stopping at his flank, just above his thickly coated tail; as it flowed out behind him. He held it up easily, above the ground so not to create a disturbance in the dried leaves, gravel and grass that covered the meadow he had now entered after leaving the comfort of the forest behind. Everything about open land made him feel uneasy, though he would never admit that to anyone, and nothing about his facial expression gave it away. He just stared forward at the horizon, pools of crimson glittering with no emotion. His walk was more of a stalk, with his head and tail held low, each step carefully thought out, before his paws even touched the spot in front of him.

His mind worked like a sped up version of a cheetah running at full speed across the grasslands of Africa. He always planned ahead, using intelligence for everything. Each breath he breathed, each step he took, every word that he said. Everything was planned out to perfection. He was always one step ahead, and this, he believed, would make him unstoppable. No conscious stopped him, and he never hesitated to kill, unless he believed it was needed to go with his plan at the time. When something in his perfectly planned out plot failed, he could think of something to fix it in less than a second. He could bend things to work to his expense, and he rarely panicked. You hardly seen him in something other than a calm state, unless, of course, he lost his temper. That was one thing he seemed to lose control of at times. That, and blood lust. Though, still those two things only helped him in the end. With anger and blood lust surging through his veins, all thoughts were on death. He used this to his advantage as well, it strengthened him, allowing him to put all effort into whatever he was fighting or killing at the time.

As he took each step forward, he unintentionally counted the steps. Another thing that he did that was unexplainable, but he believed that, in some yet to be known way, it would help with his plan. He had been doing this all his life, so much that it had just become natural to him and he rarely even notice himself doing it anymore. With his incredible ability to think so quickly, counting steps as well as other things, never bothered him or messed up his plans. It was a good thing he had never come across a mind reader, it would drive one insane to listen to his thoughts. Only he could understand them. His dreams, on the other hand, happened to be somewhat different. When he was asleep he seemed to lose everything. If one knew of this little weakness of his, they could easily use it against him, if they could catch him while he was asleep and not wake him up, that is. While asleep, his mind seems to slow down, so much that everything becomes clear, and seems so much more real than it is. And when he awakens, he can remember everything, right down to the details. He has yet to figure out if this has any advantages or not.

Like always, on this particular night, his mind was swarming with thoughts, like a million angry bees chasing a pesky pup who knocked their hive off a tree branch overhead. So many things entered then left his brain, one after the other, some at the same time, though he could still make out each one just as clearly as the reality that surrounded him. Another cool breeze wisped by, swirling around him, and between his fur. This time, something about it was different. He had picked up on it instantly, stopping in mid-step. His right fore paw froze in the air, and he stood completely still. So still, you would have thought he was stuck in that position, nothing indicated that he was even alive. His eyes stared forward, taking on an almost dazed, lifeless look. Not even his chest gave away the clue that he was still breathing. Maybe he wasn't. He was listening. All was quiet.

He knew this scent all too well. And he liked it. It seemed to wake the inner beast that hid deep inside the depths of himself, just waiting to come out. It was as if he had shut it in a box and tangled a hundred chains around it, until the surface was no longer visible, then locked it and discarded the key into countless, microscopic pieces. Though, not even that could keep this beast at bay. Closing his liquid red orbs, he parted his jaw and drank in the air around him, then held it there, before slowly releasing it into the night once more. Even the taste of it in the air was exhilarating. Blood. And not just any blood. Equine blood. He swallowed, and allowed his thoughts to return after they had momentarily stopped, his mind on one thing, and one thing only. Taking another deep intake of the air around him, he placed his paw back on the ground before him. 'One.' He was back to the beginning, as he began again, following the scent. There must have been others here, to take down a large creature such as an equine, and he was going to find out.

Crossing through the open grass lands, his steps had quickened as the lust built up more and more, the scent only growing stronger still, along with his lust. As he came upon the murder scene, his mouth hung slightly open, taking in the scents greedily. He wasn't about to devour someone else's leftovers though, he was so much stronger than that, and he wasn't about to back down and let weakness take over. Thankfully, he wasn't that desperate. For now, he was just curious. Curious to why they left this creature here, barely touched, curious to who left this creature here. Someone out there was like him. Two, to be exact. He could scent them both, though it was faint and hard to make out between the blood and the smell of the land around him. A few more steps and he could see the deceased mare more clearly. She was an elder. Perhaps that's why the left her? He held back a grimace at the thought, why waste perfectly good prey? In his opinion, all of it was good. More than good. Amazing. Even more than that. He decided that there wasn't a word good enough to describe it, and there never would be. All he knew is how much he enjoyed it. Any and all of it. Looking over the corpse, something in particular caught his eye. It was a bloodied marking on the elder's side, in the shape of a hoof. Now that was pretty unexpected. He gave it a double take, confusion and even more curiosity taking over.

An equine killing? Even more strange, an equine killing one of it's own species? Now this was getting good. Though, he was sure he scented another wolf... He had to find this killer and the answer to his questions. Taking in the scents and committing them to memory, he turned and continued his journey, now with a destination. No wonder the land behind him had been so quiet, and he hadn't been able to find prey. There was another predator out there, perhaps more dangerous than he may know. As if he was going to let this bother him. He knew he was just as dangerous as anything out there, if not more. Though he wasn't about to challenge them. He only wished to meet them, and possibly to join them. Anyone like himself was worth meeting, and anyone that would take down an equine was good in his book.

The scent of blood slowly faded, while the scents of both wolf and equine grew stronger. Another scent, one that he hadn't noticed on the corpse, was apparent as well. It was a stallion, he was sure of it. It was hard to get that scent confused, it was much different that male and both were even more different than canine scents. He passed a few scraggly trees, keeping to the shadows unintentionally. It wasn't long before he spotted them. Just as he had thought. Two equines stood, sharing words with one another, while a wolf stood a bit farther away. He grinned when he noticed the scent was female. It grin was sly, mischievous, and different from the usual smirk that crossed his jaws. When it came to females, it was almost as if he was another wolf entirely. That's when his softer side shows, and proves that he is, in fact, not completely heartless.

[Dyzz-semi-back-]

Introducing...


Chapter Five

Intro

Wiccan was getting used to Tombstone… and Raisur’s company. To bad that same thing couldn’t be said about Sonata. The poor wolf was going crazy, her eyes on the stag, obviousily not trusting him. Little did she know that this situation-for her atleast-could only get worse. If she had known that only a little later, another… a male wolf, was going to come into the conversation, then the she-wolf would have herded Wiccan away right then and there. But as of now, she was listening carefully to the conversation shared between Wiccan and Tombstone. She had to admit, they fit well together. It was kind of amusing. But the little she-wolf knew, that when she brought up the aquanter later, if they and Tombstone ever parted ways-seeing how Wiccan was practically begging Tombstone to stay… Wel if she ever brought this convo up, and claimed to Wiccan that she was totally crushing… Sonata would defiantly find that day one of her most amusing. That much was with out a doubt, amusing!

Part One;
The Challenger

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I’m impressed… to say the least:

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Wiccan was amused by Tombstone’s reply, Why do I bring it in question…. Because… I’m just speaking of equine sense. Wolves are much more advanced… They pick up on more. Sonata could tell you that… Sonata nodded, but said nothing, her icy glare still on the stallion. She turned to Wiccan, and allowed her words to seep out, only when she wasn’t looking at the stallion, ”It’s true, Wiccan. Wolves do smell better. If I had been the one who smelled the blood, I would I have smelled it long before the dumb stag did.” Wiccan smirked, and glanced at Tombstone to see how he reacted to ‘dumb stag.’ She lowered her muzzle to the wolf and gently nuzzled her. She smiled up at Tombstone. As he answer her rhetorical question, The correct terms would be… fighting with my alter ego. Wiccan nodded, and grinned slightly. Then he, Tombstone seemed to leave his us, probably to converse with his alter ego. Raisur. It was amusing, the relationship between the two. He claims he can see one’s soul, and he’s attempting to… cleanse mine. Not very successful, I’m afraid. He said with fake disappointment. Wiccan laughed, shaking her head.

Something new?:[/color]
Wiccan spoke up about this little information, ”Oh, he claims he can see into ones soul?” Wiccan actually smile, her black orbs sparkled momentarily like onyx with pure amusement as she continued, ”What does he see in my soul?” She asked curiousily, batting her long curled eyelashes, as if she hoped it would help ensure another moment for Raisur to say something stupid, and get either her or Tombstone pissed at him. She was curious about this other side to Tombstone. Truly curious. She had never met a stallion… No, anyone who had another part to her. It was pretty cool.
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Part Two;
The Serial Killer

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Who is dark, and who isn’t?:

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Wiccan watched as Tombstone’s eyes lit up, and she smirked slightly, Oh yes. Don’t I sound so dark? He had asked. Wiccan smirked, and tilted her head to the side, her eyes flashing with pure amusement. This was becoming even more amusing now. Tombstone had managed to captivate her attention. Which was indeed a rare thing. She didn’t let anyone stay in her company for long. She didn’t let others keep her attention often. He spoke again, Unlike those who claim to have done that… I have, but I don’t need to prove myself. So, it will go unproved. You’ll just have to take my word. She smirked. The witch smirked, and spoke her next words, ”Oh? So we don’t get to play any games?” Wiccan teased. She started to laugh. Nudging the stag’s shoulder slightly.

The Dark Soul:[/i]
I smirked, and tossed back the coils of black curls, moving them out of my eyes. I tilted my head as Tombstone said, Kings and Queens, such a petty namesake. None of them actually deserve it, when you think about it. I nodded, and said back, ”To true. I see no problem in… calmly… ‘destroying’ who ever dares to use such a name, now that I think about it.” I said, laughing. I smirked slightly, having noticed the almost sweeter tone that he had, when he had mused about that. When I asked about whether his words had been a pick up line, I couldn’t help but laugh, his answer making a smirk appear on my delicate façade, Only if you want it to be. His tone was teasing, malicious and sadistic, just how I preferred it. Sure it was a pleasant surprise to see the almost sweeter side of his tone, but I defiantly preffered the darker tones. I suddenly pushed any thoughts of what I preferred of Tombstone out of my head. I spoke my teasing words of Raisur, and smirked at Tombstone’s reply. Well… that would be nice. But it wasn’t nice of Raisur to take control of my body and part of my mind in the first place. So, I wouldn’t apologize. I laughed, and then replied, ”Oh, If little Raisur only took the time to get used to me, he wouldn’t be that scared of me, you know.” She said, laughing.

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Part Three;
The Companion

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I hate him:
I did not like the stupid stallion. He didn’t know a thing about me, or Wiccan. Yet he thought he could come in, and play with us. Suddenly his eyes hit mine, and and I ooked at him. He spoke my full name, and I nodded, letting him know I was listening. But I held no emotions in my eyes, and I kept my façade neutral. What do you want me to do to make you approve of me? I walked forward, and stood directly infront of him. Then, making sure I was careful, I placed my paws onto his chest, standing on my back paws, and meeting him as close to his height as I could. I spoke my words, my tone low so only he could hear. I didn’t want Wiccan to know how much I kept watch over her. ”Tombstone Revenge. I am not a trusting beast, no wolf is. We have been taught to rely on only ourselves, and the few we allow in our packs. Wiccan Rede is my only pack. And with out her, I would be alone in this world. Promise, nigh, swear on what ever keeps you bound to this world that you wont turn on us. That you won’t do anything to cause harm to fall upon my pack, mainly my best friend. You hurt either of us, I will no think twice about killing you. But if you dare cause any damange to befall Wiccan, I will not hesitate to send your sorry ass straight to Heaven. With more then enough letters of recommendation.” With that, I lowered myself to all fours, turned around, and walked back to my spot just outside the crowd, watching everything that happened.

Do you smell that?:
As the two kept talking, a slight scent wafered to me. It was faint, but distinctly wolf. I stiffened, and stood from my previous sitting position. If this traveler was walking towards us, I was going to be careful, and make sure nothing hurt my packmate, or this other stallion. I may hate him, but as of right now, he was being respectful to me, and not trying to kill Wiccan. So I’d help him too… for now.

[/blockquote]

Part Four;
The View for Afar

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Coat Colors:

[/color]
It was amusing how he looked almost annoyingly at his coat, before speaking, A black coat, huh? Since when did coat colors define one’s attentions? The two faes kept quiet, and let the stallion continue, My father said… ‘Paints can’t be trusted until you really know them. They may hold beauty, but for as many colors they have. They have that many sides.’ Raisur’s my other side, and… you’ve met him. So, there’s the white. The grey is just a mixture between us… in our shared soul. Wiccan nodded slightly. It made sense. It really did. She grinned slightly, and spoke, ”True, but I do wish to know. You say-er your father-that you can’t trust a pain till you know them… Do I know you well enough to trust you, Tombstone?” Wiccan asked, her voice holding a teasing, almost-daresay-flirtatious tone. She smirked as he kept speaking of his form. Yes, a Friesian build. Though not purely Friesian. I’m… Arabian, Fresian, Paint, Rocky Mountain, and Quarter Horse. Wiccan smirked, her eyes thoughtful, and her smirk almost teasing. ”Ah, so you are one of a kind, are you not, dear Tombstone?” She teased. After my next words, he spoke, Through thick and thin He said, his tone almost mocking. Then he paused his words almost as if he was thinking about it. And then he added, Till death do we part. He finished reciting, every part of him spoke of sarcasm and amusement. She looked shocked before she laughed slightly, ”Oh? Are we married now?” She teased, laughing, but the shock was still laced onto her features. She had not been expecting that sort of reply.

Raisur, how odd he is:
She smirked as the stag shook his head in mock disappointment, No, too easy. He can’t even defend himself. She pretended to let out a soft sigh of sorrow. It was fun laughing and teasing with Tombstone, even if she didn’t admit it. She grinned at his next words, Decent fruit means exposing yours and Midnight Sonata’s existence, as well as mine. At the moment… they only know of Raisur. Wiccan had smirked, and looked over him almost teasing, ”Only about Raisur? How disappointing for them. They are missing out on a very interesting equine then.” She teased, grinning. She couldn’t help teasing him, it was so fun! She grinned, looking at him. He soon spoke, That could be arranged, It could be… fun. Wiccan grinned, then he glanced at her, a questioning look on her face, and she met his gaze, with a curious one of her own. He spoke, Have you heard of the Thestral alliance? She frowned, hinting that she had not. They’re darker than the darks. They kill mercilessly and for entertainments purposes. No fear of death, and they know what life’s all about. It’s values and worth… normally, they travel alone or in small bands of two or five, to wreak havoc on those who fancy themselves… immortal, powerful, and untouchable. You and Midnight Sonata fit that description, I like to think. Perhaps there are some Thestrals left, after all. Perhaps… As his voice drowned out, Wiccan added a quick word, ”Thestrals? They sound like my kind of alliance.” She said approvingly. He began to speak again, just as Wiccan had thought he would. Perhaos we could restart that alliance, yet not make it official. So we can decide who comes in and out of it, with out a king or queen, and only those worthy enough should bear the name Thestral… The approving smile on Wiccan’s face stated she liked the idea. Oh hell did she like this idea. She spoke so as she said, ”Restart this alliance? Rule with out either one of us taking the title of king and queen. So we are what? Just the founders. You, dear Tombstone.” She found calling him dear Tombstone amusing, and it was beginning to stick, ”want the power with the title. To allow who you wish into our secret alliance. Find the most suitable to restart this deadly clan.” A blood thirsty smirk had settled on the vipress’s maw, ”Well, I think it is a splendid plan. Sonata?” She looked at her company.

Thestrals?:
Sonata had silently be contemplating this idea over and over in her head. It was a pleasant idea. She slowly spoke. ”Well, Wicca, Tombstone’s Revenge.” A wry smirk came upon the she-wolf’s maw, ”And Raisur, of course.” She only added the name to see what Tombstone’s Revenge thought of it. She turned her orbs onto the stallion, and said, her tone almost approving, but only of the idea, ”I agree with Wiccan. I truly… Wicked idea. I would love to see how it turned out. But I would adore to be the one put in charge of accepting the wolves, if you don’t mind. I might look small and not so deadly, but… I’m quick in action, and I know better then many other’s how to take down an opponent faster then anyone else. But it is my testing skills, testing to see if someone is truly worthy of joing up with us. I hope you both think over my proposal. I doubt a wolf would listen to a horse. I listen, and respect Wiccan because of everything we went threw. But most wolves won’t give horses the light of day.” Sonata said wisely. She looked Tombstone’s Revenge in the eye, and nodded once, as if to that settled that.

Let’s Play a game:
Wiccan smiled, as he replied to their idea of joining up. That sounds ravishing. She raised an equine eyebrow at the word, ravishing. Then he continued, Any species? Interested in making our existence known so soon? He asked with a very dangerous smile, that in wiccan’s mind looked far too sexy on the stallion. Not that she would admit it. She let a dark and truly sadistic smile switch onto her own façade. Her eyes lit up with a darkness, and inner evil that was only fed by death. Inside her a desire to destroy, and kill came out, that rivaled even that of the devils. She flashed this devilious grin at Tombstone’s her eyes held the grim reapers soul in them, ”Ah, no, sweet Tombstone.” Her words were hissing, venomous, but at the same time almost alluring, as they usually became when her darkest side showed. ”I don’t wish to make my existence merely shown. I wish to show my true nature to these foolish beings. Show them that they have a new terror. Strike fear even into the heart of the dark King, should he even be called such.” She smirked, ”I want to see their fear, I want to see them in their last moments watch as I hand their dead, lifeless souls over to the grim reaper. What else would be more amazing then that? Right, Tombstone?” She gave him her trademark predatory smile, ”Is that not the most amazing thing to see?” She asked him.

Who dares approach?:
Suddenly Sonata looked up, her eyes narrowing. A scent came to her, the same scent that she had smelled earlier, only this time it was closer. The sleek black wolf looked around her, growling with wariness. Wiccan snapped her tiara around to look at the wolf, her eyes worried, and her façade softening in an unbelievable rate. A soft, almost loving look that had be reserved soley for her best friend, ”What’s wrong, Sonata?” She asked, her voice full of concern for her friend. But Sonata wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes had fallen onto a distant shadow, and she peered threw the darkness, searching for something then she saw it. Oh god did she se it. She snarled darkly, her eyes peering threw to see the shape of the large wolf, pitch black as was she. Slowly the wolf walked out of the shadows, a sly and mischevious grin on his muzzle. Sonata trotted forward, her ears back, and her eyes cold. She stopped before the wolf, and noticed that he was at least twice the size of her. Dear god, was the titan huge. The small and sleek she-wolf glared upon him, he practically overshadowed her. But she was dark and dangerous. A demoness in wolf form. A murderer of the most dangerous kind. Her eyes narrowed as she stared upon the male before her. His size was unbelievable, but nothing about him would intimidate the she-wolf. Her words slinked out, low and cold, but still distinctly feminine, ”Who are you, and why do you impose on our gathering, titan?” She asked, deciding that Titan fit better then anything else. She growled, and looked back at Wiccan.
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Epilogue to Chapter

Greet more people to bother her. She hissed and growled in annoyance. She rolled her orbs, before saying one last time, ”I doubt you belong here, titan. So you can turn around and go back to were you came from.” with those words, the she-wolf spun around, and started to slowly walk back to the stallion and mare who were now watching her and the male wolf’s exchange. She wagged her tail once to Wiccan, letting her know all was okay. And with one last cold glance over her shoulder, she lopped back to the other two’s side.

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Word Count above line: 3172! Yay!