Index was once a small and close-knit community, but the town located on the western side of Washington state has grown in recent years beyond anyone's expectations. It is the ideal place for those who work in Seattle but can't afford the city's high real estate prices, and for others the natural beauty attracts them to the town. And Index truly is a beautiful place - surrounded by thick evergreen trees, tall mountains and glistening rivers and lakes. While weather is typically rainy with overcast skies even this does nothing to take away from the beauty of the town, and it is only highlighted further when the heavy snow graces the town and caps the mountains in winter. To many, Index would seem like a paradise. And yet lurking beneath this visual beauty there is more to this town than anyone might ever imagine...

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 [Closed] Temptations of the Bloody Kind

[Closed] Temptations of the Bloody Kind

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[Closed] Temptations of the Bloody Kind

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Fri Mar 03, 2017 2:25 am

Back Dated. In Response to this letter from Gayle

Ask any human and they will tell you the worst bit about getting drunk was the hangover in the morning. The dull pulse in the back of your head. Strange taste lingering on your tongue even after brushing your teeth. How nothing feels quite right. Bright lights seem annoying and everything has the potential to turn your stomach. Every time I woke up from a sleep that was longer than an hour or two, I actually fucking wished I was human. That’s just how screwed up my head was. When I opened my eyes, I just wanted to die. Not in some, Holy shit I feel fucking ill kind of way. In a really real kind of way. Weakness at its most disgusting. It’s not that I would ever consider suicide. Even if I knew that the Ancestors would accept me to their table. I just…I was over it all. All of it. However the feeling always passed if I ignored it long enough. I’d only ever experienced it here. In this fucking town. With all this fucking bullshit that I didn’t know what to do with. Something also told me that it was going to get worse before it remotely got better. Assuming it ever would. Which just made the feeling deeper, more profound. It was actually the primary reason why I kept myself medicated. Though when actually intoxicated I always just simply told myself it was because it was easier. That wasn’t the whole truth. It was because I needed it.

Before I could tag on reasons why I thought I actually needed liquor, needed to dull everything to a soft hum, I sluggishly opened my eyes. It was fucking freezing which told me I was in the forest again. Magnetized to my special rock overlooking the cliff when drink took me to a place where my body worked on auto pilot. Since it was still dark out it took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t alone. A weird black bird sat right in front of my face. It twisted it’s neck like it was curious maybe even concerned. See? That’s how mental I was. Giving avian alarm clocks emotions. Blinking slowly, trying to wash away the shit feeling that had struck me, my brow creased in confusion. It had something in its beak. Paper. Plus something that glinted in the slight moonlight. Could Ravens be trained like carrier pigeons? Now that was a- what? WHAT?

Sitting bolt upright even though every muscle complained with the sudden movement I scrambled back from the bird. Nothing about them frightened me, that was not why I was trying to eject myself like someone had dropped a white mouse in my lap. Raven Clouds are coming. Fuck, well, one couldn’t exactly be classed as a cloud right? Calm the fuck down Luxx. Shit, everything seemed to get under my skin a hundred times easier these days. Acting like a fucking two year old having a fit over being told not to eat dirt. Reaching out carefully, after taking a series of over the top dramatic breaths, I took the Raven’s treasure hoard. It didn’t even try to stop me, just opening it’s beak to let a necklace and a note fall into my fingers.

Reading was a hurdle even I looked at with apprehension right at this moment, but the further my eyes travelled through the words, the faster they flicked. The wider my eyes became. Frantic mania taking hold. A phantom knife sliced into my gut, twisting, forcing bile up into my throat. Vision blurring I gripped the paper to the point my fingernails ripped into it. How the fuck could this happen? How the fuck did that bitch know? How the fuck was I expected to deal with this when everything else pushed in, loomed around me? I already felt suffocated. Ohhhh fuck me. Anger would have been welcomed but I got none of that. What I got was a torrent of vomit that I only just managed to project over the side of the sharp drop. She claimed to have not told anyone about my blood addiction and her silence or lack there of, is not what bothered me. If some vinegar preserved dust cunt had somehow seen me chugging back corpse juice then who the fuck else had? Ever since that shit with Ouray I thought I’d been stealth as fuck.

Holding the necklace up with trembling fingers I eyed it with a hunger, knowing that the red wasn’t some cleverly dyed liquid. Walking tight ropes it what I did best. This time the string I was attempting to balance on was fucking invisible and as fine as a strand of hair. One false move could ruin everything. Stumbling would result in deaths and it wasn’t mine I was concerned with. The more I drank, the more blood I consumed, the more I didn’t trust myself. Ancient blood though. Had to taste like a wine that had been left in the cellar since the dark ages. The idea excited me and also terrified me. Of course I was going to drink the shitty stuff. I’d already come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t help myself. That had been the point right? To get me so dependent on the crap that I no longer felt revulsion. Just popped it like a birth control pill. Important but insignificant.

As much as I didn’t want to, I read and re-read the note, burning everything about it into my brain. Telling myself that things would never, NEVER get bad enough that I would consider the help of a fucking fanger. That we were strong enough. That I was strong enough. If she was here right now I’d spit in that extended hand and then rip off the arm that it was attached to. Since I couldn’t do that very thing I shredded the letter with a fury, though not discarding the necklace. That I swung about my neck. What a fucked load of bullshit. Walking around with Fanger blood as a jewellery statement.

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