Just a Whisper

It was the last straw. The bitter end. The thing that could not be forgiven. It had to end. It had to end NOW. But he was so tired, and it hurt so much. He could hardly bear it.

It hadn’t been that way in the beginning. The indignities had been subtle. Explainable. Endurable.

But then they had gone too far. They had tried to threaten him, bully and break him. They’d tried to beat him and even burn him. But he always got away.

He was a danger to them, and they knew it. So when they couldn’t get him – they went for those he loved. They’d left, in their wake, the broken body of a best friend, the broken heart of a sister, the broken soul of a mother, and the broken mind of his lover. He felt guilty that it was the last thing – the twisting of his love’s mind, that had almost been his undoing.  

A cry of anguish went into the night sky; The stars merely glittering coldly, twinkling in the night.  And yet those stars – they burned hot- just from so far away.

But IT heard- The Whisper of the Hunt. It heard and it answered. And it came.

Down from the heavens, it came, swirling to the call of vengeance. It came silently – the passage of a bitter cold and brutally quiet wind. It was laced with a pulsing rain of sparks that one would see when embers fly up from a campfire in the wind. Sparks and mist, roiling inside.

It came down to the him, swirling around the nearly senseless young man’s body, almost as if were coiling around its prey, like a cable on a spool, yet not quite so sterile. It was eager to be there.

The boy seemed frail and broken. But he had a core of strength – a core of passion that needed the means for revenge – just and sure. It needed to be fanned back to life, so it voiced its offer.

The Whisper of the Hunt softly spoke to him. It promised him that his tears would dry, that they would not be in vain. It caressed him and said he would have the means to get back at the brutal ones that had done these terrible deeds.

The Hunt swirled around him, and caressed him, like a lover might, and gave him a taste of its strength. It galvanized him and let him know what it could give him. Power unbridled. Revenge.

Encouraged by the whispers – the surge from the sample of its power – he rallied, and a fire kindled in him. From the spark of anger and helplessness, deep inside, it grew into a blaze. And yet – he could feel the flames were cold – a deadly chill – it both kept the grief at bay, and fueled his need for vengeance. It let him think – gave him clarity – a way for his heart to bear what it must, and an outlet for his rage to do what had to be done. He only hesitated a moment, asking one thing, “Can you.. Will I be able to – to .. fix him? Fix what was wrong?”

“It will not be easy, but it can be done. You must do it before the end – and all will be well. “

As hope rose, so did his wrath, and he embraced the power, telling the Hunt “YES! I accept your help!”

The Whisper of the Hunt seemed to condense, pouring over his body like water from a waterfall, pressing over his skin, caressing him like a lover might, its sparks and solid coil of fog sliding up around his face.

He was startled and gasped, and that’s when it rushed into him – forcing its way into his mouth. He inhaled to shout – to scream in surprise, but just breathed it in.

It rushed in hard and fast, filling his mouth – He thought he was going to choke! It had forced its way down his throat, as it entered him, and insinuated itself deep inside, suffusing him. It filled him up with power – power ancient and terrible.

What was left of it outside the body absorbed sunk into his skin, as he was breating in the other, and he tried to cry out in a moment of pain – it was like being burned and frozen at once.

And then – the moment passed. His skin changed to alabaster, and gleamed smooth and perfect – poreless – smooth as marble – smooth like the winds of an oncoming storm.

The embers that had embedded themselves in his skin and face made patterns there – like tattoos and brands. And some changed to piercings – lips, nose, eyebrows and ears, even the nipples and navel – all black and shiny and deadly beautiful. A necklace appeared at his collarbone – the twin horns of the hunt – silver and powerful – with an opal held between their tines. Twin feral canines exaggerated themselves, though they weren’t actual fangs – still – he looked more aggressive that way. Another totem of the Hunt manifested, swirled over his now otherwise naked body – the fur mantle. His fingers now had silver claw-tips, his nails having changed to pointed shimmering weapons 2 inches long.

He stood, and glanced in the direction of the enemy headquarters. He knew he was powerful in a way that they had no idea what they faced. And they were doomed.

The final item materialized on his head – the Mask of the Hunt – it manifested on his brow, as of old, dark silver and bold. He let out a cry that was no longer of grief, but that of Master of the Hunt – like a clarion call of a hunter’s horn.

He flexed his arms and legs, and admired the supple power of his body, running a hand over his stomach and naked chest. He loved the feel of his lean, tight muscles, and knew he was even more beautiful now. He could kill with desire – he was beautiful and terrible with the power that he now commanded.

His eyes had gone dark, save the simmering cold fires of cobalt blue – heralding death and vengeance in those shimmering depths.

He was the Hunt now. The Master of the Hunt.

He would have his prey.

And nothing would be left but a whisper when he was done – nothing but a whisper, and blood.

~Dehrynn Shepherd

Mesh- TMP Deluxe Body  (Store)
Hair- .Shi Hair : Quixotic (Uber)

Fur- GizzA – Fur Stole (Store)
Head Art- ::Axix:: DeerSpirit Mask (Store)
Face Piercings- **RE** Savage Face Piercings (MOM)
Necklace- **RE** Nahlim Necklace (Store)

Eyeshadow & Lipstick- Zibska ~ Gret & Whisper lips (Store)

Sparkles- {anc} fairyteil light (Store)


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