Post by XxBeAuTyKiLlErXx on Aug 20, 2010 0:59:07 GMT -5
The undead seem to be shrieking for one last song, their hands lifting to the summit of the underworld.
Eerie and intimidating, the mist coated sky becomes a smooth pale as the sun loses it’s animation and becomes withered and dull.
The clouds strum at the dusk, forcing it to move aside so the beaming moon can come out of hiding.
There seems to be a supernatural hand, glazed with crisp deep purple haze reaching out for comfort.
The filmy gloom seems to arrange into a clear tissue over my spherical chestnut eyes, which are scarcely adjusting to the dark.
My flesh is exposed to the frigid frost, which is creating goosebumps upon my slender arms.
The shade of the diminutive hand evolves into a fierce ebony.
Stubby claws drawn from their disguise, they whip at the vapor among myself.
“Mistofolees?” I question as his feminine face is released hesitantly from the grasps of the haze.
“Victoria?” His tone is craving and seductive.
“Is it really you, Mistofolees?”
“It most definitely is.”
His face seems to briskly become vividly visible as the fleecy puffs of cloud dance among each other, the moon in full view.
His head inclines and his hands slither up to my chalky face, savoring the moment we have together.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” His tone is deeper than usual.
I refused to respond, for I decided to supply an innocent kiss upon his faint cheek, which was ashen and annular.
“I.. thought you were deceased..” I manage to force out.
Succeeding Macavity’s raid along with his depraved minions, Mistofolees was slaughtered by a few of the aggressors.
I am almost positive that this is when Macavity conducted Growltiger’s sinister Siamese warriors, which before, he made peace and tranquility with.
They had inflicted numerous wounds upon his flesh, there was almost no way that he could’ve survived.
He was unfortunately hung by his bloodstained intestines; as did Gus and Deuteronomy.
None have returned to any of the Jellicles, but I was sure that I wasn’t only imagining Mistofolees was before me planning to reunite our affection.
Spiralling downwards and becoming dazed, I lose my balance and land upon Mistofolees’ willowy arms; this was real. Fortunately real.
--
Mistofolees’ frail corpse comes into view, undead and trembling.
He holds me tight; my heart strumming frailly as I attempted to grab ahold of myself and tell myself that this wasn’t part of my reality.
Seeming stark and jagged, Mistofolees’ lips inclined to touch mine passionately; and therefore I was completely positive that I wasn’t dreaming.
“Victoria..” Mistofolees’ voice call as I fully awoke; the film of midnight casts over us.
“I cannot believe you’re back..” I mutter as I reach up to lay my hand upon his seemingly flawless face.
“Believe it, my dear.” Mistofolees’ voice is smooth and velvety.
“How did you get back? From the dead?” My voice is hushed as the wind blows upon our pelts.
“I cannot tell you..” Mistofolees sighs and drops me upon the damp grass of the graveyard.
“Why not?” I am disappointed at his response and I am almost demanding another one, one that is the truth.
“I will be sent back.. That’s all I can tell you.” Mistofolees’ face became a dull crimson, tears seeming to swell in his eyes.
Mistofolees’ tail unintentionally cloaks around my waistline, sending chills throughout her pulsing veins.
---
Should I continue this or not?
Eerie and intimidating, the mist coated sky becomes a smooth pale as the sun loses it’s animation and becomes withered and dull.
The clouds strum at the dusk, forcing it to move aside so the beaming moon can come out of hiding.
There seems to be a supernatural hand, glazed with crisp deep purple haze reaching out for comfort.
The filmy gloom seems to arrange into a clear tissue over my spherical chestnut eyes, which are scarcely adjusting to the dark.
My flesh is exposed to the frigid frost, which is creating goosebumps upon my slender arms.
The shade of the diminutive hand evolves into a fierce ebony.
Stubby claws drawn from their disguise, they whip at the vapor among myself.
“Mistofolees?” I question as his feminine face is released hesitantly from the grasps of the haze.
“Victoria?” His tone is craving and seductive.
“Is it really you, Mistofolees?”
“It most definitely is.”
His face seems to briskly become vividly visible as the fleecy puffs of cloud dance among each other, the moon in full view.
His head inclines and his hands slither up to my chalky face, savoring the moment we have together.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” His tone is deeper than usual.
I refused to respond, for I decided to supply an innocent kiss upon his faint cheek, which was ashen and annular.
“I.. thought you were deceased..” I manage to force out.
Succeeding Macavity’s raid along with his depraved minions, Mistofolees was slaughtered by a few of the aggressors.
I am almost positive that this is when Macavity conducted Growltiger’s sinister Siamese warriors, which before, he made peace and tranquility with.
They had inflicted numerous wounds upon his flesh, there was almost no way that he could’ve survived.
He was unfortunately hung by his bloodstained intestines; as did Gus and Deuteronomy.
None have returned to any of the Jellicles, but I was sure that I wasn’t only imagining Mistofolees was before me planning to reunite our affection.
Spiralling downwards and becoming dazed, I lose my balance and land upon Mistofolees’ willowy arms; this was real. Fortunately real.
--
Mistofolees’ frail corpse comes into view, undead and trembling.
He holds me tight; my heart strumming frailly as I attempted to grab ahold of myself and tell myself that this wasn’t part of my reality.
Seeming stark and jagged, Mistofolees’ lips inclined to touch mine passionately; and therefore I was completely positive that I wasn’t dreaming.
“Victoria..” Mistofolees’ voice call as I fully awoke; the film of midnight casts over us.
“I cannot believe you’re back..” I mutter as I reach up to lay my hand upon his seemingly flawless face.
“Believe it, my dear.” Mistofolees’ voice is smooth and velvety.
“How did you get back? From the dead?” My voice is hushed as the wind blows upon our pelts.
“I cannot tell you..” Mistofolees sighs and drops me upon the damp grass of the graveyard.
“Why not?” I am disappointed at his response and I am almost demanding another one, one that is the truth.
“I will be sent back.. That’s all I can tell you.” Mistofolees’ face became a dull crimson, tears seeming to swell in his eyes.
Mistofolees’ tail unintentionally cloaks around my waistline, sending chills throughout her pulsing veins.
---
Should I continue this or not?