Amara (hersinwaslove) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2013-12-07 12:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !open, ~2013 december, ~40 points, ~~!35 points, ~~amara (hersinwaslove), ~~cassie blake (darkwitchrising) |
Characters: Amara and Cassie
Setting: Wandering town.
Summary: Amara is very confused and scared.
Status: Open; Incomplete
Rating: Lowish. Possibly becoming higher for self-harm?
Once Amara had gotten over the fact or rather accepted that the voice was coming out of her phone as normal around here, she finally dragged herself from the cemetery where she'd had the unfortunate luck of landing. Thankfully, there appeared to be no dead supernaturals in the immediate area and the now human woman could breathe a bit easier for a time. It was only a matter of time, too. There was always death, always, and the being, whatever it was, would have to pass through her to enter the "Other side", created by the very witch, Qetsiyah that had caused her all this pain in the first place. It was revenge, a well thought out and planned torture the witch contrived for Silas and herself to keep them separate for all eternity by using their own immortality spell against them. Making Amara the anchor to the other side, the door through which those with supernatural heritage would need to pass through, was so much better than simply killing her when she had the chance. When ever someone passed through, she felt the pain of their death as they did so. It was as if she died every time and, forzen as a statue for thousands of years, in a box, she suffered in silence. She was unable to scream, to move, or run and it didn't matter. The spirits of the dead found her everywhere and always went through her. There was no place to hide for Amara. One foot in the real world and the other within the realm of the dead, it was no surprise either that her sanity had been on of the first things to go.
Somehow, Silas found her, fed her blood, and revived her, but Amara no longer could stand to be alive. She couldn't live another day with the pain of all the death passing through her. She drank his blood, now filled with the cure, and became human. She could die now and so could he. They could be at peace, the other side destroyed. They could move on together. But no, Qetsiya couldn't have it. This entire town, her surviving the knife wound too, had to be part of the witch's plan to keep her and Silas over the hot coals a bit longer. No one else was as powerful to cause her to survive a knife wound to the gut, no one, but a witch and outside of the man she loved, Qetsiya was the strongest witch she knew as well as the most hateful. It wasn't beyond her comprehension why the other woman hated her either. She'd cheated with Qetsiyah's fiancee and the two tricked her into believing that they were loyal to her, when in reality they were out for themselves the entire time. Oh, but how could she help herself? She fell in love with Silas the first moment she laid eyes on him, handsome, smart, charming, and caring. Yes, she knew he was caring even as he slowly dug a knife into the other witch's chest with every kiss he planted on Amara's lips. Still, the torture and pain Qetsiyah inflicted on them both was more than enough payback. When she finally saw the witch again, anger still fresh in her movements, gestures, and gaze, Amara had actually apologized. Chalk it up to her mind finally being lost, but she said her sin was love and she learned her lesson. Then, she begged Qetsiyah to kill her.
Amara was drifting in and out of reality. Madison Valley the young man called this place and he said she was safes, but no, no she wasn't. As long as she was alive, they could pass through her and she could still see them. There was no relief while she lived. In her very Grecian dress and messy braids, Amara was drawing more than a few stares as she ventured inside the town, wandering down the streets with wide, frightened brown eyes. Were they real? Voices filled her head and on more than one occasion she stopped and turned, shouting at the empty spot beside her to shut up and leave her alone. They never did. The dead were always whispering to her and she could always see them. Feel their pain if they hadn't passed through. Talk to them. They were following her. They were always following her. Mumbling under her breath, she barely avoided running into a family of four just enjoying the Saturday afternoon. Her hand clenched the phone, it constantly went off in her fingers and still caused her to jump with it's unexpected life. "Please...please..." Trailing off she stepped into the street, bright lights filled her vision and she fell, stumbling backward. The unknown beast barreled down on her.