Post by angelofdarkness on Jun 28, 2010 23:44:51 GMT -5
Rip the flesh, tear them apart. Smash their bones to powder. Crack the bones, let the broken shards pierce through their skin. Sever the tendons, cut the veins. Embrace the pain, and savor the taste of their blood. Delight in the screams of terror and agony.
There was an absence of stars tonight, and the bright pale moon
was obscured by moving clouds of darkness, blacker than the deepest of caves. Floating thru the air, swarming every semblance of light, extinguishing its life. In the distance lie an abandoned building, many stories high, but having been deserted for quite some time. The walls made of stone, chipped away and crumbling, barely withstanding the test of time. Broken or cracked glass windows, dotted the northern face of the structure. It looked like something out of a horror movie, or perhaps ones nightmare. The camera zooms forward, approaching the run down building, a rotting wooden double door marking the front of the building, the entrance. A strong gust of wind blows the doors open, and the camera follows inside.
The crack of thunder can be heard in the distance. The next thing seen is that of a long, dark hallway, with smooth marble floors, unmarred, seemingly. The dark corridor was lit by the occaisional crack of lightning thru the dark ebony sky, reflecting into it from the windows. We are taken up a long, winding staircase, to another, similar hall, and a hard right turn the camera takes, into a room, which lacks a door. An opening where the door should have been, marked by rough, jagged, stone. We go inside, to see a woman slumbering on a moth eaten mattress. Her skin is pale, and her hair a raven black color, the length of which reaches her shoulders. A stray dog watches her, silently, unmoving. Another crack of lightning, and the woman's eyes snap open, her eyes a bright emerald green. Her pupils are dialated, taking up atleast half of the color that should be there. The woman is wearing a black leather jacket, worn and faded blue jeans, and black leather boots with a red trim. She sits up slowly, taking a measure of the dog before her. She reaches out a hand slowly, the dog growls, but she continues, the animal's lips quivering, as if sensing an aura about the woman that it did not particuarly care for. Her fingers reach the snout of the dog, which suddenly lurches forward, biting her hand, its teeth sinking into her flesh, then turns around and runs out of the room, whining, as she casts an angry glare towards it.
The woman turns her hand palm up, trembling, dark crimson blood covering it, and flowing freely, the color making a great contrast with her pale skin. She slowly brings it closer, and presses her tongue against her hand firmly, then slowly pushing it up and forward along, tasting her own blood, swallowing, and licking her lips. The pain was excruciating, but she seemed to enjoy it, to get pleasure from it. One might not know, however, she enjoyed causing pain as much as she loved taking it. She sighed heavily, sitting back, and contemplating her desires. She was fascinated with the human anatomy, and how it worked. She wanted to know the affects of pain on the human body. How snipping a tendon or cutting a vein, would affect how one might be able to move. She would find out an opponent's weakness, and exploit it, use it to her advantage.
Such study, experimentation, and knowledge would indeed be a boon to her cause. She had signed a contract with Thy WWE, though discreetely, not many knowing of her or her presence. She had enjoyed professional wrestling since she was a child, watching it with her father...her most dispised father, whom she hated. It was the only thing that kept her going, she mused, looking back on her life with bitterness. It was her dream, and she would fulfill it, to become a wrestler. She had received training in the past, when she could afford it. She knew what she was doing, but she had no actual in ring experience. She did not think it mattered. Her viciousness, her intelligence, dissection of opponents, would bring her the win. She would fulfill her dream, aswell as make good money, to be able to support her habits.
Layla El, Angel Destler...she would destroy them, piece by piece, slowly, enjoying the pain they would suffer at her hands. She smiled at the thought, digger her teeth deeper into her hand, causing the wound to bleed more heavily, as she shuddered with delight and pleasure. Layla El, just another pretty face to her, soon to be cut into bloody mess, she would not be recognized by any known to her. Angel Destler? She was the real angel, the Angel of Darkness, she would prove her superiority. She began to laugh maniacally, throwing her head back in laughter, in anticipation, enjoying the thought of bringing them the utmost pain....The thought was almost orgasmic....
There was an absence of stars tonight, and the bright pale moon
was obscured by moving clouds of darkness, blacker than the deepest of caves. Floating thru the air, swarming every semblance of light, extinguishing its life. In the distance lie an abandoned building, many stories high, but having been deserted for quite some time. The walls made of stone, chipped away and crumbling, barely withstanding the test of time. Broken or cracked glass windows, dotted the northern face of the structure. It looked like something out of a horror movie, or perhaps ones nightmare. The camera zooms forward, approaching the run down building, a rotting wooden double door marking the front of the building, the entrance. A strong gust of wind blows the doors open, and the camera follows inside.
The crack of thunder can be heard in the distance. The next thing seen is that of a long, dark hallway, with smooth marble floors, unmarred, seemingly. The dark corridor was lit by the occaisional crack of lightning thru the dark ebony sky, reflecting into it from the windows. We are taken up a long, winding staircase, to another, similar hall, and a hard right turn the camera takes, into a room, which lacks a door. An opening where the door should have been, marked by rough, jagged, stone. We go inside, to see a woman slumbering on a moth eaten mattress. Her skin is pale, and her hair a raven black color, the length of which reaches her shoulders. A stray dog watches her, silently, unmoving. Another crack of lightning, and the woman's eyes snap open, her eyes a bright emerald green. Her pupils are dialated, taking up atleast half of the color that should be there. The woman is wearing a black leather jacket, worn and faded blue jeans, and black leather boots with a red trim. She sits up slowly, taking a measure of the dog before her. She reaches out a hand slowly, the dog growls, but she continues, the animal's lips quivering, as if sensing an aura about the woman that it did not particuarly care for. Her fingers reach the snout of the dog, which suddenly lurches forward, biting her hand, its teeth sinking into her flesh, then turns around and runs out of the room, whining, as she casts an angry glare towards it.
The woman turns her hand palm up, trembling, dark crimson blood covering it, and flowing freely, the color making a great contrast with her pale skin. She slowly brings it closer, and presses her tongue against her hand firmly, then slowly pushing it up and forward along, tasting her own blood, swallowing, and licking her lips. The pain was excruciating, but she seemed to enjoy it, to get pleasure from it. One might not know, however, she enjoyed causing pain as much as she loved taking it. She sighed heavily, sitting back, and contemplating her desires. She was fascinated with the human anatomy, and how it worked. She wanted to know the affects of pain on the human body. How snipping a tendon or cutting a vein, would affect how one might be able to move. She would find out an opponent's weakness, and exploit it, use it to her advantage.
Such study, experimentation, and knowledge would indeed be a boon to her cause. She had signed a contract with Thy WWE, though discreetely, not many knowing of her or her presence. She had enjoyed professional wrestling since she was a child, watching it with her father...her most dispised father, whom she hated. It was the only thing that kept her going, she mused, looking back on her life with bitterness. It was her dream, and she would fulfill it, to become a wrestler. She had received training in the past, when she could afford it. She knew what she was doing, but she had no actual in ring experience. She did not think it mattered. Her viciousness, her intelligence, dissection of opponents, would bring her the win. She would fulfill her dream, aswell as make good money, to be able to support her habits.
Layla El, Angel Destler...she would destroy them, piece by piece, slowly, enjoying the pain they would suffer at her hands. She smiled at the thought, digger her teeth deeper into her hand, causing the wound to bleed more heavily, as she shuddered with delight and pleasure. Layla El, just another pretty face to her, soon to be cut into bloody mess, she would not be recognized by any known to her. Angel Destler? She was the real angel, the Angel of Darkness, she would prove her superiority. She began to laugh maniacally, throwing her head back in laughter, in anticipation, enjoying the thought of bringing them the utmost pain....The thought was almost orgasmic....
