Log: Complete

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

When; Nov. 15th ( early morning )

Rating; R ( for gore and language)

Characters; revelations9x6 Xulchilbara, silkcutremix John Constantine

Summary; Guilt, judgement, and the ties that bind

Log;



Darkness.


Be it darkness of the complete absence of light, or the more frightening, yet more profound darkness produced by the weak bare bulb that offered more inky shadow than it illuminated; darkness was ever-present.

In the house that darkness built, shadow was a living breathing thing.

It whispered great sighs like a hugs body breathing in the rank stench of earth, piss, shit, and a smell somewhat like that of dogs, but with the coppery addition of old blood that dried in scaboruous patches across the writhing mass of flesh that made up the majority of the creatures in the barb-wire pen.

Creatures that may have once been animals; may have once been dogs.

They still moved as dogs, and as though some piece of them still remembered things like sensations beyond pain and hunger, they reacted somewhat like dogs.

In this respect they paced and growled at the intruder in thier territory.
The intruder was a whole thing, though it still carried an air of humaness, alien and other.

The dogs with long glistening whip-like toungues paced and muttered, growled and shredded thier obscenly long tongues on the barb-wire mesh that made up the sectioned piece of the white one's cage.

Beyond these, there were the bandaged ones who would occasionally writhe, and whimper in gurgling broken voices until thier very skulls split down the middle to hang in bisected halves from dripping necks.
Often they would collapse and spew blood mixed with other fluid afterwards, as bone and sinew slowly started to knit back together....only to be torn asunder by some strange unseen force over and over again.

Cyclic in thier torment, these animals would occasionally lash out in thier agony and thus blindly attack the barb-wire cage as well, but it was a senseless rushing, whereas the tongued ones were calculating, and methodical; testing the wires for weaknesses.

Comments

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

The white one's sense of time had long sense dissolved. How long had it been since he arrived down here? Days it felt like. Maybe even hours, but it had to have been days even if it had no longer mattered.

His neighbors? Interesting bunch. Startling at first, yes, but any sort of shock had long since worn off and for lack of anything else to do, he would study them, watch the perpetual cycle roll on. The split heads did not seem to be a bother, any sort of hostility shown towards him a result of their anguish. Oh no, the bother were the tongued atrocities. Those seemed to have wanted him. When he wasn't going through nicotine withdrawal, he'd tease them, perhaps even rush them on his own.

Aw, hell, he, the adrenaline junkie, was so bored that fighting them with only his teeth seemed like a potential excitement more than a horror that would surely end him. Then again, he was aware of his fighting skills. Maybe not in that case. Oughta' stop thinking that way too; someone might listen.

Constantine sat, meditating on his situation for the umpteenth time, pondering if he should try another howling session again. He could smell the salt and the hundreds of sea odors that told him he was near a beach. Too bloody cold to swim, but maybe, maybe someone out there taking a stroll might just hear him. His throat was sore and he had no water, but he had to try, if just on the instance that perhaps, just perhaps, the Corinthian, the Dream Kings, Matthew, Kantarou, someone, anyone might hear him. He was even trying to eke out any signs of moss, plant life, something he could channel up and out the ol' Bog God, even.

Aw, Christ. Worked up from the frantic train of thought bearing the once-long-now-butchered list of contacts, he only howled. It was the least he could do.

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

" No one can hear you, you know"

The very shadows seemed to have finally grown weary of the repetitive racket, and answered for the first time since the englishwolf was brought to this particular corner of horror.

The tongued-ones parted away from the bars, making animalistic obiesances to the tiny figure that sat on it's heels, childlike, and studied Constantine with it's chin supported on one tiny fist.

A child?
No...no, not a child, and anyone who had the sense to never fully trust the eyes in this place, this world, would probably get a good inkling of who....or rather what it was.

A school uniform greyed with age, and ashen in places from unknown flames caught the occasional glimmer from the bare bulb.
Lank, dirty black hair shadowed parts of the 'childs' face, but beyond resembling a survivor of a four-alarm fire, it was the eyes which told the real tale behind this being.

Eyes made of a burning, dark light that shifted color and clarity as the unblining eyes watched it's quarry.

" Your alone here, John." she ( it?) said calmly, almost quietly conversational.

" No one will ever here you.....no one, but me

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

Indeed, John had stopped howling for once hearing something other than the raspy ragged breaths of the wretched beasts, but it was nothing to like. No little spark of hope. No sign of light peeking in through the cracks above. No flutter of the heart in that tiny moment of the tender joy of escape. Nothing. Shouldn't be surprised either with his luck and bloodline. He was sure both parties here knew that the horror would only grow. Like a tumor.

He was only able to hide behind the primal straight visage of the beast, but even that wanted to yield. Fuck, how he wished he could talk. His lip only slightly puckered, as futile an action as that was. There was power to this being here, and as he was, there would be little he could do about it. Sure as hell wasn't going to let her, it, whatever have its way easily.

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

" Silly, puppy" the 'child' chided Constantine with a devious smile that hinted at deeper cruelty in the corners of her mouth.

" You don't need sound to talk."

The smile remained, but the discordant eyes flared in a moment of brightness felt more as heat on the mind, the soul, rather then the skin.

" Besides, everything you have, and all you know can just as easily be mine..."
The child leaned foreward until he tiny knee-socks started to pick up more dirt from the floor of the pen.
On hands and knees she crawled the few remaining inches between barb-wire barrier and beyond.

Then smiled an awful smile...and with a bizarre tearing, breaking noise, and a distortion of face and body, the 'child' pushed first her hand, then dislocated shoulder, up to her head through the shredding wires.

The flesh of her face kept it's deep lacerations, but the hair started to change, started to lighten.

Her tiny face was blood obscured, still smeared with filth and ash, but one blue eye took the place of the chaotic-lighted holes that had been there before.

She was passing through the wires, but leaving bits of herself behind that the dogs sniffed at with a hunger that had little to do with the desire for food.

Up to her belly, now for the other arm and it's requisite skinning....but the arm became caught.
It would not pass on as the first had...

She grinned at the man inside the wolf; a manic, sharp-toothed smile.

..And giggled wetly when her arm made an awful popping sound, then tore away completly, leaving flayed skin and the tendons half-hanging from the detatched rotator cuff.

BeCauSe YoUr DoWn In HeLl WiTh Me NoW. DoWn In In ThE DaRk HoUse ThAt JoHn BuIlT...

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

Oh my God.

The flashbacks came, even as the little innocent soul of Astra had long since departed from Buel's clutches to Heaven with the other children. That peck on the cheek should have resolved everything, but it didn't. She could have been damned forever, and she wasn't anymore, but the act of damning her at all for any period of time was enough. It had been years, decades, with her down there, undeserving of whatever procedures and tortures Hell had wrought on her for his arrogance. Even suicide had been too good an option for him, as they tormented him at Ravenscar for his atrocity. He deserved all of it, all of it, and more. It should have been him.

John was at the back of the pen, his jaw first agape in a very unwolf-like manner as she came. He appeared more human than animal, which he was soon a shuddering guilty man in a wolf's skin. He could not look at her, his eyes squeezed shut. Fortunately for him, wolves could not cry.

Oh god just go away. Please, I'm sorry. I thought you had forgiven me. Oh Jesus, please, just go.

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

'Go AwAy'?

A mock-pout that did nothing but add to the disturbing sight of the bleeding phantom crawling across the cage floor.

So YoU CaN FoRgEt Me? FoRgEt Me AnD LeAvE Me In HoRrOr AnD AgOnY AgAiN?

One armed now, and forced to rise and crawl on raw kneecaps in a wierd undulating half-walk, the child, corpse, horror, thing advanced, and held out it's single flayed hand; sinew crawling across the bones as tiny fingers pawed the air.....pawed until it came into contact with...skin?

Yes, skin.

Human, and naked skin that covered the huddled shape of a man.

The darnkess whispered now. It shivered into shards, and promised to give all that the guilty wanted, needed, by way of redemption in a sweet agony of pain.

Pain, despair..
Just words that only hinted at what this horror wearing a mangled child promised.

So LoNg...So LoNg AlOnE, WiTh OnLy DeMoNs FoR CoMpAnY, the child...that curiously was a little too large to be a child any longer, grated as a whimper through the recoiling mind it found before it.

Split, and bloody skin hung from her changing body ( or perhaps it had always been this way?).
The half-exposed muscle and tendon of a teenager now, complete with all the perversity of a young feminine form, once it had been pulled apart and left broken.
Only the eyes, the hint of girlhood in the face remained.

Still the same person, just aged......aged in hell.

StAy WiTh Me... The roaring whispered.

She was leaving smears of crimson across his huddled skin, as her peeled hand slid across to wrap the judged in an embrace.
Blood, and muscle, and bare flesh pressed against the man...the wolf possibly only a fever-dream...

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

"N-No! Please...!"

How convenient it was to be a man again, or so it seemed, to cry and talk and feel his own nude flesh with those dexterous, aged fingers he had made for himself over the years with risk and vice. Truly his lycanthropy, if that was what it was, was a curse, to revert so suddenly now without the wall of teeth and mattered fur to hide his true, vulnerable self in. He was cold and naked, trembling at her touch.

The delirium spoke: "Astra, I can't." He sobbed as his spoke, the hot tears a contrast. "I can't forgive meself for what I did to you... Oh god, Astra, I'm so sorry."

He hugged her, addled, and continued to cry still, even if he wanted to get away, even if it bare back was pressed against the pen ever so hard. He begged and begged for redemption, for his unforgivable crime, his sin, as she painted him with her blood.

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

She curled around him with a sickening sound of joint-cracking, to the accompaniment of severed veins spilling thier contents across the pair of them.

Painted in it, wallowing in it, warm, but chilling fast in the biting autumn air.

The naked man clung to his sin as though she...it were the only thing there was left.

SaY It...SaY YoU WiLl StAy HeRe WiTh ME the mind-splintering voice coaxed.
Her blood was mingling with the welling blood the barb wire kissed from the man's back, mingling.

.....Blood magic, blood oaths are powerful things.
Redemption, damnation...it was one and the same in this place, and the shadows where whispering there gibbering cries to one another.

The judged now stood at the precipice...but he must choose, for any oath must be sealed in pain, and in choice.

One-handed, the girl, phantom monster carressed this weeping soul's cheek, and with a mouth part torn open enough to show a single line of even teeth through the veils of red, kissed that same cheek.

StAy As YoU WeRe AlWaYs MeAnT To

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

Initially, John wanted to scream that he did not deserve to be forgiven, that he could not forgive himself ever. Here he was, deep in the dark again, deep in the depths of the catacombs, like here, like Ravenscar. Ravenscar all over again, Ravenscar with its many hands groping and grasping out to seize him and do shall be done to a deserving child killer. He could feel that electric probe in his ass again, feel it jolt him with painful shocks in the name of therapy. He could feel the employees look down at him, over him, perhaps wondering if they should zap him again, just for good measure.

John Constantine continued to sob.

"If I stay," he sniffed. "What will become of us?" Will his pain be her salvation?

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

The splintered shadows leapt and writhed, excitable at the prospect of another to join them.
Someone new and therefore a change in thier neverending servitude.

He too would come to love thier mother and father, for father gave pain like balm to soothe thier guilts, to destroy thier minds slowly until the remembered lives, the shades of memory were gone...all washed away in a blissful oblivion.


The dogs were circling, even the ones with splitting skulls could not help but be attracted to the draw of newness...the draw of the father, the master at work.
Some emitted wet gurgling whimpers, and thus in thier way begged for master's attention, as they begged to be allowed closer to the intruder.

The judged was still crying out, bleating and begging for the punishment they needed, wanted, deserved....and master was all too willing to provide.

If yOu StaY, We WaLk ThE LoNg RoAd Of SaLvAtIoN ToGeThEr...If YoU StAy, I WiLl NoT HuRt So BaDlY...I WiLl NoT Be AlOnE.

They were both now covered in the veils of red, becoming stained with it...

StAy WiTh Me...Oh PlEaSe, JoHn?

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

"I... I thought you were in Heaven," John mumbled, clutching her tight, "but you can't rest, can you? Is that it?" His voice shook, having stabilized himself enough to talk, say something. Anything. The tears still dampened his cheeks, if they were real. Everything was red.

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

'She' was petting him, carressing him softly, and leaving variable smears and whorls in the bloody mess around them.

Fingers with the joint prominently jutting out against skin and a ragged tendon traced the tears on his cheeks, then brought them to her mouth and tasted the sweetness of liquid pain.

No..I CaN NeVeR ReSt, NeVeR Be FrEe...I Am AlOnE AnD AfRaId DoWn HeRe In ThE DaRk.

The blood on her fingers mixed now with saliva to make ribbons of gore between her spread fingers, painted little streaks across his chest, his belly.
Like a cat, scen-marking, she writhed and pressed her eviserated flesh over and around him.
The smell of blood, coppery-sweet, was everywhere; so strong it overroad the rank filth.

SaY YoU WiLl? I Am So LoNeLy...So VeRy CoLd..

Blood slicked skin moved against each other, and the occasional shred of flesh from breast or belly stuck in the gore.
She writhed and turned, pressed, and coaxed limbs, and the remnants of,to a seated position.
Still wrapped in the circle of his arms, she curled in his lap now, her blood matted hair sticking to chest and shoulders where she pressed her destoryed face into his neck.

So CoLd...If YoU ArE HeRe ThEy WiLl NoT CoMe FoR Me

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

John closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the blood anymore, even with all the things no man should ever see in the dark reaches of his mind. The poor soul was another doomed ghost and, shit, he could not call it just another no matter how much he tried. It was his duty, his responsibility to placate her, to let her rest at last. It was the least he could do.

Warmth and blood. So much blood.

"I'll stay. Just for you."

[revelations9x6.livejournal.com]

She smiled into his throat...and licked a warn trail of bloody saliva across him.

Her hands had been busy while they talked.
The tiny smears and whorls connected now, formed patterns and symbols; a language far older than those of man.

Words, became chains, and the bloody letters faded as they were absorbed into the englishman's flesh.

Curled together intimately, she..he..it let the fascade drop, though from now on all the constantine would percieve as 'real' would be another story.

Perhaps he would see the change in 'Astra', perhaps not.
Or..perhaps the change wouldn't matter all that much?

Twined together in a welter of gore sat two men, now.

One fair-haired, and weathered from vice and majick, the other dark-haired and immaculate save the veils of red that painted them both.
Chotic shifting flame burned thier way through the blue child's eyes, and looked on Constantine with a smug possesiveness.

Welcome, John Constantine, to the family.

The darkness, and the dogs howled in unison; a single woeful note of piercing melancholic joy.

Another mind.
Another child.

Another soul for the fire.

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

She was gone, and he had been caught in the delirium and fucking tricked. The surprises never ended, or it should have never even been one. Those who knew how to hurt him did just that, a harpoon through the identity he had carefully crafted for himself to the naked soul.

Age was supposed to make you wiser, not dumber.

Stupidity had netted him three demonic offspring that fucked up half of London or two-thirds. Stupidity had him almost wrapped around the fingers of devils and demons, the First of the Fallen and Buer and Rosacarnis. Stupidity had gotten his friends killed, greater good or not. Thassit, lads: The world's saved for this week. By golly too bad it's doomed to fuck itself up again by next tuesday.

John mouthed the words. Family. Family.

"No!"