setting
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...

Current Time in Index, Washington:
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 [Private] The Demented Undead - Page 2

[Private] The Demented Undead

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Re: [Private] The Demented Undead

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Tue May 16, 2017 4:34 am

“Lils.” I corrected. Though without the snarl that probably would have normally came as its pair. Humans believed anger to be a negative emotion. Those that displayed it too often or couldn’t control their outbursts were seen to have issues. Railroaded into buying self-help books and sitting in on classes to fucking fix themselves. Rage was valued differently amongst most wolves I had met. It put fuel in our tanks on the battlefield. Was a display of raw primal power and brought us closer to the wolf. To me it was also another hood to hide behind. It washed my soul clean far better than any dunking in holy water ever could. What fury I had left was reserved for only those that deserved it. The vengeful kind directed towards the Fangers and the other to only wolves. Leaving a small amount for myself. To keep myself alive for a few more days.

Lacing my fingers together I peered down wondering how the hand position had any significance. A line in the bible stating this is what you have to do in order to speak to God. To ask him to watch over another. Too many rules. The Ancestors didn’t dictate to us how we chose to speak to them. Each pack had its own rituals and ceremonies. No right or wrong way. If only that extended to their prophecies. Fuck, how beautiful it would be if my interpretation was enough. “Do that then. I’ll need all the help I can get.” Though I hadn’t rightly helped myself. I could have made preparations but I hadn’t. Once again leaving my fate in the hands of another who had no reason to grant me safe passage to the other side. Not even knowing that’s essentially what I was asking for. A safety net.

“Yes. I’ve changed my mind.” Unhinging my fingers I rested them in my lap. “Not for the right reasons. I was given endless signs of those long ago.” Camille and Jonah threatening me. Losing my mind and going on a blood rampage that resulted in the murder of an injured wolf. Nightmares. Daymares. My body disintegrating before my eyes. Couldn’t even give that bag bitch, Portia all the credit. As I had been driving back into Index I had realized that I was a coward. That I had been literally ready to shrug my shoulders at the fact Onyx showed more strength than I did. “The Alpha is tormented and yet he still fights but I was ready to give up. Accept that he was stronger than me. Refuse to detox because it was easier to avoid it. Make excuses for myself. Telling myself that staying on the blood was keeping my Mother alive, that I could protect my divine charge with the extra boost.” Added divine charge in there for his benefit. When in a church talking to a Priest have to adopt the lingo right? “I’m going to die. It’s inevitable but I’m not going to die a fucking coward.” I was so adamant that this had to be done. Too many reasons to go through with it. All of which should have held the same weight. Now with all of them resting on my shoulders, I couldn’t deny it. Though the Ancestors had shown me my death I felt like it didn’t rightly matter how I died. Just that I did.

His voice could be hypnotic. Reminded me of how Spiritual Leaders spoke. A tone that made me even slow my breathing so that I didn’t miss a single word being said. Every single one important. “Not all wounds heal.” Placing a hand over my chest where the distressed flesh of my only remaining injury lay. Everything else had been given time to mend itself. Wolf regeneration still working just at a sluggish pace. I couldn’t stop clawing at myself, though the previous damage hadn’t really begun to heal either. Was surprised it hadn’t begun to fester. “You believe I truly want it.” Holy shit. Why did those words make me smile? I was actually grinning. Every single wolf looked at me like I had some kind of disease. Even those that I liked. That I considered to be friends. Actually thinking about everything else he said though, removed the happy expression almost immediately.

“I don’t deserve it though. I’ve done terrible fucking things and still think terrible thoughts.” Sometimes I thought I was two people. That the Fanger blood had literally torn me in two. That would be too good to be true. To look in the mirror and excuse away your own shitty side. “Did you ever watch cartoons as a kid? There's always an episode where some character has an attack of conscious and a little angel pops up on one shoulder and a devil on the other.” I hadn’t watched that much Television in my lifetime but I had as a child. With the sound turned off so that I didn’t wake my parents. “That’s me. That’s why the wolves won’t ever offer me forgiveness but if what you’re saying is true. The fact I seek it is enough.” It should feel strange to gain comfort from someone who didn’t even believe in the same higher power that I did. After visiting before I had come to adopt a very Pagan viewpoint. That because the Ancestors existed it didn’t mean that God didn’t either. Which meant the Supremacy's God that was related to that symbol Onyx had shown me could be real too. As sick as it was to consider them having a diety. Actually. Why hadn't I thought of this before? My eye's widened.

“The crucifix has significance to the church. Pack Symbols are the same for us. If you were to see one that was the same for Vampires on the body of someone else, what would be your first thought?”

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Re: [Private] The Demented Undead

Helios Tallon | Army of God; Chief

Posted on Fri May 19, 2017 8:40 pm

Lils... I echoed, but the title filled me with unease. I was not quite certain it was time for me to refer to her so casually. Admittedly, no time would be the right time. It never was. And yet... She had no clue that I had already kept her in my prayers every night since our first meeting. I could not find comfort in referring to her so casually, but I still spoke of her to God. Did it get more intimate than that? What a contradictory set of rules I had made for myself. I will. It was a promise, one I had already kept. She did not know, and did not need to know. Not now, anyway.

What had brought forth this ache in my chest for the voice on the other side? Was I desperately searching for a soul to save to make up for all of those that I could not protect? Or was the answer far more simple... We were the same, were we not? Both possessing an addiction to the blood of a vampire. The blood she sought was for her tongue, and the blood I sought was for my hands. There was little difference... Our addictions would likely kill us both.

I heard everything she was saying, and how sorrowful it was, the words she was speaking and the cadence of her voice. What must it be like to be alive, to live, to posses the instinct to survive, but to also endlessly punish yourself for it... Perhaps I knew the answer to that question, but it was too heartbreaking to admit. Why did she punish herself with such persistence? Her reasons would undoubtedly differ from my own, and I craved the answers not out of any sense of curiosity, but out of a desperate need to eliminate them. Why do you believe your reasons are not right? Nothing she could say would convince me. Well I am glad, whatever your reasons, that you want to put an end to your addiction. I will do everything in my power to help you. Death was nothing to fear. When my time came, I would embrace it. This world was too cruel to miss.

She was right. Some wounds refused to heal. And it was never about fixing what was broken... Not when the only way to mend was to turn back time. It was about adapting, learning how to live with what you've done. I believe you truly want it. I confirmed. It pained me to imagine anyone having to question themselves. Especially when they truly believed death was around the corner. What she said next only caused that pain to grow. I did not believe it. I could not believe it. I would not believe it. I had done awful things. I had done terrible, unforgivable things. The blood that stained my hands was not the blood of the guilty, but the blood of the innocent. Did that mean I did not deserve redemption? When you think of someone you care for... And you imagine them doing terrible things, or thinking terrible thoughts... Would you believe they deserve redemption? The question was valid. She was not the exception, getting her to see that was not going to be easy.

Of course. I knew exactly what she meant, but I hardly saw that a reason to never offer forgiveness when a heart truly wanted and deserved it. Wanting it meant she did deserve it. Maybe it was just another detail about wolves that I would never understand. It is enough. I replied with conviction. When I thought of others, I meant it with every fiber of my being. When I thought of myself, that conviction came from a desire to convince myself it was true.

I took a moment before answer her question, inhaling and exhaling before opening my mouth. Speaking for my faith... Such symbols are worn willingly as a reminder. I suppose I would assume the same if I saw such a thing.

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Re: [Private] The Demented Undead

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun May 21, 2017 7:27 pm

Were my reasons not right? Being selfish was a bad thing was it not? Everyone had that shit drilled into their heads. I heard it yelled back into my face over and over again. It was Onyx’s favorite ammunition just as it was everyone else's. I was a liar because I was selfish. I was a terrible wolf because I was selfish. I didn’t deserve to exist because I was selfish. “Funny. When I think about it. It’s not. My reasons are selfish but when you have no one else but yourself then how can anyone expect you to think any differently?” I’d slipped into a black hole that had made me hate myself because of the fact I felt guilt over the fact I only ever thought of myself. That no matter how selfless I could twist an action or desire into looking, somewhere in there was a tinge of personal gain. I protected Onyx. Had to say after what he’d said to me and what I’d heard since he had returned my devotions weren’t necessarily misplaced. I did genuinely like the fucking dick even though he was that, a fucking asshole. Yet I knew, I was literally only at his side because the Ancestors had told me I had to be. “I’m doing this purely for myself. When I should be doing it because my problem affects so many others. Puts their lives at risk. Fuck it. I’m selfish. Nothing wrong with that.” For once the wound on my chest didn’t throb.

“Do you really mean that? Everything in your power?” Asking for help was something I never did. Never ever. It was the epitome of being weak as far as I was concerned and at no point did I want a single wolf thinking that I was a doormat. I would barter for what I needed that I couldn’t rightly take for myself. Accepting help? Asking for it outrightly? Without giving anything in return? Fuck that. Giving anyone a glimmer of a chink in my armor to take advantage of just left me wide open. Was so not under a misconception that anyone would resist the urge to get a crowbar and wrench my shell open to eat the soft squishies underneath. “Can’t say something like that and not back it up Father Tallon and this isn’t going to be as easy as organizing a bake sale.” Churches did that shit right? I vaguely remembered baking with my Grandmother to provide one with delectable tid bits. Though I’d just been licking spoons and making a fucking mess. Some things never change. “For starters, I need a place to hide. I don’t even have a real home right now, so that’s issue number one.” Even if I had a residence that I could call my own, it wasn’t like it would be outfitted for a Fanger detoxing session. Come to think of it One Shot did have a basement that would have been perfect. Not that it would help me right now. Not a single wolf needed to witness this shit. “That place is going to need to be reinforced. I’m a wolf. This is going to hurt.” Understatement of the century. “Obviously I’m going to try and fight. Though I guess you don’t have to worry about me shifting. Right now I can’t, it’s too painful. I black out when I try.”

Hearing those words again brought the smile back. It was a horrible thing. To feel hope. When the end was so near. Thinking that maybe I could really find redemption if I could gain it so easily from a human Priest who didn’t know a thing about me. Maybe that was the trick. He was a Priest this was his occupation and he didn’t know who I was. What being a Wolf really meant. How my pack upbringings, the things I had seen and done influenced what being a Wolf meant to me. Yet again, like fucking everything, a tangled thicket of good and bad. All merged and linked together. Poisonous barbed vines wrapped about perfectly blooming flowers. Thinking about anyone I cared for was a hefty box of worms. I tried to not think about anyone in particular. Knowing the answer to his question would be the same regardless of who came to mind. “That’s the hitch though. You have to care. They don’t care about me. And you, well this is your job isn’t it?” To pretend to care about the person on the other side of the box. Play that game to make it true. Knew how to participate in that fuckery. “Of course I forgive them for their bullshit. All rolls back to being my fault most of the damn time anyway.” Had forgiven Onyx for bailing because it had been my fault he had. Being an idiot and trying to gain his trust when it was fucking impossible. Never shied away from a challenge but fuck, everyone had the point where beating their head against a brick wall gave them a headache they couldn’t be bothered with.

A reminder. Worn willingly. Shouldn't even be bothering thinking about this. Not like I had time to do anything with the information. It would just cloud my head about the decision to try and join the pack. Didn’t want to go back on my promise to Nebula but this sounded fucking ominous. “Are we talking a reminder like…how Nazis tattoo swastikas on their bodies or a Father getting the image of a dead child to remember them?” Either way when I looked at it, it was sick. Pointed to one thought that I didn’t want to think about. That Onyx was a fucking traitor. Just like the Pack Master before him. Just like Orion. Just like me. Images of him taking in Fanger blood filtered through my head. None of that felt like the acceptance of a willing party but then that whole deal had been fucked up. All I had decided that was a hundred per cent real is what I had felt. Not necessarily what I had seen. No person would really want to believe or could believe that what I’d witnessed had actually happened. Symbolism just like that fucking symbol itself. The Ancestors liked to play fucking charades. Pictionary on steroids. “If I could draw the symbol do you think you might know what it means?” I knew basics but obviously, there was a story behind it. Like there was with the crucifix. The half moon with claw marks on the base of my neck. “It represents the Vampires God.” I spat the words out like they tasted like sour milk.

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Re: [Private] The Demented Undead

Helios Tallon | Army of God; Chief

Posted on Tue May 23, 2017 11:16 pm

There is no selfishness in death. The specifics of the statement were important. If death was truly calling her name, I did not know. But I did know there was a difference between being haunted by selfishness in death, when the word held so little meaning... And being absorbed in its shadow in life. Neither called for the word and its meaning to be embraced.

I do. I have no reason to make you promises that I do not intend to keep. And this is a promise... I am as devoted to them as I am to God. Was it such a surprise that I'd made her a promise that I'd intended to keep? After conversations of selfishness, I suppose it would have been. However, her uncertainty filled me with despair at every revelation of doubt. While not overtly expressed, that doubt revealed itself in her questions of my commitment. What had I done... What had others possibly done to make her feel so inclined to seek reassurance? Had we not been separated by the divide, I would have grabbed her by the hand and held it firmly to further embed that commitment I had made, to make it feel all the more absolute.

You would be surprised to know just how capable I am. A moment of confusion had overwhelmed me. What did sales of baked goods have to do with aiding her in her fight against her addiction? You need not worry about such things, I can and will provide you with whatever you need. The responsibility is in my hands. While she had not claimed sanctuary, I would provide it if that was what she needed. However, I suppose under these conditions the meaning would be quite different. Perhaps it was not her that needed sanctuary, but others from her. In which case, I was the only person for the job.

I understand. I nodded, though she could not see it. I did have a place in mind, however, sharing this information outside of confession would likely result in a dispute that I did not want to have. I was skating on thin ice with my superiors, and had no desire to test the waters beneath the surface. I suppose a little secrecy was minuscule compared to the promises I had just made to a wolf. It seemed that thin ice below my skates was already cracked, and I had only just realized it...

Had it not been so sorrowful to hear, it likely would have been insulting. It is not my job that makes me care. It is my spirit. Caring is not given out of obligation, it is not a rule to be followed. It is born of honesty of heart. It is a simple truth, no strings attached or complexity of reason. I care because I care. If I did not... Then I had spent the last two decades living and breathing in an illusion. Which of course was absurd. Caring was the only thing that had sustained me this long. Without it, I would not have survived. Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy. I whispered. Taking the blame could be a powerful feeling, or it could be an honorable confession. What determined the difference was the truth, and the willingness to not be at fault again. Whether her admission of her fault was made out of a desire to feel morally superior... Or made based on actual facts and a willingness to prevent making the same mistakes... I could not know, and I dare not assume.

I would be inclined to believe the latter. However both when put into the right context and viewed with the right perspective, could be likely. I might wear a cross to remind myself of what my purpose is here, which does not always have the same meaning. It can be an uplifting, or dreary reminder depending on the context of the moment. However, I did not like making such general assumptions about people I did not know. I would surely take a look and tell you anything I might know. I had not expected such a turn, and for the first time in a long time... I had a reason to make a phone call to someone I had sworn to never call again.

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Re: [Private] The Demented Undead

Lilith Alysbury | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Fri May 26, 2017 1:53 am

Was so hard not to think of this in a certain way. Promises and Truth speaking with Deception and Lies. Didn’t know if it was him, the way he spoke and smelt. This place, the way it felt, the memories it held. Or whether it was just because when faced with mortality everyone started thinking a certain way. But he made me wish the way I felt here didn’t disappear when I walked out those doors. “Promises, to me, almost exist to be broken but one’s sworn with faith at stake? Even I can’t maneuver around those.” As fucked up as it had been to tell Apollo what had happened with the Sequoia. With Rigel, on that one particular night. I’d had to because that cheeky bitch Portia appeared to pay more attention than I gave her credit for. She’d made me swear by the Ancestors that I would do what she was asking. The only sure-fire way to get me to follow through on any promise. “So done deal. We’re doing this.” Didn’t sound as confident as I should, as I wanted to be. As much as I was actually looking forward to dying I was still reluctant as all fuck. Didn’t want my immortal spirit to just disappear since I couldn’t be sure if I’d completed my prophecy. It looked like a bloody no, but then I couldn’t underestimate the Ancestors potential for sheer mindfuckery.

“Oh now there is something we have in common Father Tallon. Overconfidence.” I giggled softly at the thought of having something in common with a Priest. “But I won’t assume anything then. You can rock my world.” Continuing to giggle I had to stop due to my throat becoming annoyed at being used for more than just speaking. Shit, talking was painful enough these days. I suspected I didn’t have long before I died without removing myself from blood dependency first. Raging into a chain of strained coughing I held my hand over my mouth. It became wet with dark blood. “A cage. A strong one. And you have no idea how much it fucks me up to actually request one. I do not like being imprisoned.” Enclosed spaces. At first, the phobia had been intense. Couldn’t sleep with the door closed. Travel in elevators or even sit in a vehicle without a window down. Once turned Wolf it dulled and quickly found a home in a category that made watching some horror movies a very real trip for me. As long as I could leave freely from whatever small space I was in, it was okay. Like the confessional or the fucking loo.

“I once thought that my soul was cut from that very same cloth. Now I’m not so sure.”
Sure I was an asshole but out of necessity. At least that’s what I’d told myself. What was my excuse now? Didn’t have one. Though I liked to think a lot of the shitty things I did were for the greater good. I bit my lip hard thinking about that thought. Making excuses for myself. I was so done with it. This place made me think though. Helped clear my head and ponder stuff that was just getting lost in all the pain, all the blood, all the liquor. If everything I did was selfish and selfless. If I truly wanted to believe that. Then there were certain things that didn’t add up.

Biting down further into my lip, metallic bubbled across my tongue. Was fucked that I could tell the difference between my own blood and that which I consumed. Wolf taste buds were pretty damn exceptional of course but there was no way anyone should consume enough plasma to liken it to wine. Containing different underlying flavors. Shit should just taste like fucking blood. “What if a Wolf is wearing a Vampire symbol and then they try to fucking hide it.” Couldn’t stop the anger. I was so fucking confused. Could it just be that it wasn’t there at all? There was one way to find out and I wasn’t going to get to do that now. It was possible I was leaving this pack with a traitor as a leader. Was it my problem? Could I saddle anymore? The Ancestors wouldn’t have rightly given me him as a prophecy if he didn’t deserve protecting. I had to believe that. But maybe, just maybe. I had gotten my prophecy wrong because I wasn’t meant to protect him from the Fangers, or from the disappointment of his pack or even from me. It was from himself.

“Super. I have a pen and paper on me. The light in here is…non-existent. My eyes don’t work as well as they should. So I guess there’s no better time like the present to actually see who we are talking to. Don’t you think?” Had to admit I was excited. Just like a kid on Christmas. Right now I couldn’t let myself get worried about shit I couldn’t deal with, that I didn’t have time to. The pack formation ceremony was fast approaching and I was getting weaker. Wasn’t even sure I had the energy left in me to use my ability to see if that symbol did still glow on Onyx’s body when I hung in the in-between. Had to consider in my physical state that even if I managed to, I wouldn’t be coming back again. Gaining the information would be a pointless exercise and just leave a junkie corpse at the feet of the Alpha. Bet he might be pretty pleased with seeing me fuck myself though.

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