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Thread: [M] Hel Hath No Fury [Chaotic Cam and ZeeBat]

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    Default [M] Hel Hath No Fury [Chaotic Cam and ZeeBat]

    The air was cold and damp, the walls of bone white and bare. The obsidian stone that made up the floor was stained with red, fresh blood pooling towards the feet of a grand throne made of skulls. The icy halls of Helheim held no life, and any life that dared to step foot within it was soon dead afterwards. The writhing body of a messenger was testament to that, as the poor soul gasped and moaned; dull, wide eyes staring up at an endless black void above, as blood stained their pale lips - lips that had spoken words that had angered the master of this place. For upon the throne sat a beautiful maiden. Her skin was as white as snow, her hair black as ebony. On one side of her face held full red lips, and a glittering emerald eye. But the other half of her face was obscured by a black veil, of which hid a monstrosity from the world; the rotting flesh of a corpse. This was Hel, and she ruled the vast plains of Niflheimr.

    "Shh, my sweet," the woman crooned, stepping from her throne, and making her way towards the dying man. Her anger had faded, replaced by joy as the message had sunk in. "Weep not for much longer, you've done your job well," she praised, as the man's eyes became lifeless, and a radiant light pulsed around his corpse. Hel watched as his spirit ascended from his body; his image in life, but now perfected in death. The ghostly visage blinked it's translucent eyes, which were wild and confused. "Shh," Hel repeated, smiling softly at the spirit. She then kissed the spirit on his mouth, before drinking him in, his essence disappearing and becoming one with her. "Rest now."

    Her uncovered eye then darted to the heavens, the eternal darkness of which surrounded her realm. Then, ignoring the blood that still pooled at her feet, she bent down, grabbing hold of a parchment in bony hands, and unraveling it to reveal its secrets to her gaze. She smiled, and then laughed. Her mirth echoed across the Halls of the Dead, and past it, too, as it reverberated across the entirety of her damned world of ice and death.

    "Oh Odin, you fool. Did you really think your actions would go unpunished?" she whispered, her voice like wind in the night. "Your reckoning has only just begun, old man. For there is no fury like mine, and no mercy shall be had. I speak now, as a testament to the Norns themselves; Odin One-Eye, your soul shall be mine, and mine alone." With these words the parchment crumbled in her palm, the runes that had been burned upon them reappearing on the flesh of her arm like a brand. They glowed once, twice, and then she was gone - vanishing from the realm she had been cursed to, and reappearing far, far away, as the spirits of the dead screamed in her absence.
    Last edited by Chaotic Cam; 01-06-2018 at 04:10 AM.

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