The Inkwell

Clicky clicky typey typey clicky click
 
It is currently 23 Jun 2017, 20:12

Contact Us | All times are UTC [ DST ]



Welcome
Welcome to The Inkwell!

You are currently viewing our boards as a guest, which gives you limited access to view our off-topic, news and helpdesk departments.

Joining our free community will enable you to post your own creative works, critique the works of other users and discuss your works with like-minded writers.

Registration is fast, simple, and absolutely free, so please, join our community today!




Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 5 posts ] 
Author Message
 Post subject: FICTION FRENZY WINNER - Freezing Nightingale
PostPosted: 24 Aug 2015, 15:32 
Offline
Newbie

Joined: 07 Jun 2015, 02:21
Posts: 7
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 0 time
This is just something I wrote with no intention of it going anywhere, inspired by an image I found on the Internet, will post it as a credit when I get access because it's cool as hell but this is a sort of continuation on my other entry (except that it skips sixty or seventy years) that shows a little of what Juno got up to in the decades after her embrace. Once again apologies for any formatting errors as this was copy pasted from a word document. Once again with the legal disclaimer: I see no vampires here..... :?

Spoiler:
It's been four days since I was thrown in this well. The woman who left me in here promised she'd bring me some food in a week, if I survive that long, but I'm partially submerged in freezing salt water, up to my chest, and I can't sleep for fear of slipping and drowning. The only means I have of telling the time is the shadows cast by the thin rays of sunlight I catch a glimpse of as the cover is removed and someone pours more freezing water on me, my only source of hydration, I think something must be adding more salt to the water I'm submerged in however because whenever I taste it it's always as salty as ever despite the addition of fresh water. A sudden shiver runs through me but I find it reassuring, it shows that I haven't reached the end stages of hypothermia yet. To stave off both that inevitability and DVT I start to fidget and flex my muscles as best I can in the confined space, a part of me is afraid that I'm needlessly wasting my strength but I don't know how long I can last before my blood starts to clot or freeze in spikes. I don't know what that woman wants from me but unless it's my corpse she'd best let me out of here soon.

I feel increasingly close to death when the cover opens again, I can't see any sunlight though so it's probably night time, I hear the sound of a heavy metal bucket being placed on the edge of the well and tilt my head back, mouth open and hands cupped to capture as much of the precious liquid as I possibly can.
What rains down on me in a torrent isn't the clear, sweet, liquid I've come to expect, it's warm and tastes metallic, I'm desperately thirsty however so I so I blindly guzzle it down and hope that if it is poison I can taste it finishes me quickly.
The flow stops and I whimper, partly out of shame at what I've been reduced to and partly because it once gained me another mugful or so of water. The cover closes, leaving me in total darkness again, and I drink the remaining liquid I've caught in my hands.
There's a faint blue light coming from the water underneath me but I don't think it's anything more than a hallucination, I've been awake for days and I'm probably suffering from advanced hypothermia by now after all, a faint singing accompanies the light and makes me smile, I feel warmer with this voice around somehow, after a while I feel my own lips start to join in the woman's song; I'm not as good as she is but something in her song seems to lift as I join in, as though she's happy that I want to sing with her, the well has terrible acoustics and creates an annoying reverberating echoes overlaying each other and making the whole thing sound like a choir singing off key rather than the beautiful duet that it feels like but none of that seems to matter as I focus on the sound of her voice as it fills me up and lifts my mind from it's present cage.

The song ends and her voice fades away, leaving me in the cold darkness once more.

“She's in here” A woman's voice floats down to me, the one who put me in here,
“A disused well? Is that safe?” It's the woman who's song I heard so long ago, not concerned as much as curious, “seems dangerous to me. Mortals are so fragile”
“She's either dead and unworthy or alive and determined. Or she's just lost her mind”
“I don't find that particularly reassuring Juno”
“Well you said to test her” the cover comes off and I can see stars, cold moonlight illuminates me a little but I can't see it in my limited field of vision.
“I meant her supposed abilities as a singer, not her ability to survive in a disused well for a week”
“Well maybe if you were more clear”
A teenage Goth, the likes of whom populated my concerts since the start, leans over the well “Well she's alive, that's a start” she shrugs “Come on Nightingale, sing for your supper” she laughs but it's a cruel, harsh, sound.
Nightingale... Is that my name? I think it is, or at least it's my stage persona, why do they want to hear me sing though? The thought crosses my mind that perhaps she's just an overzealous fan who saw Misery one too many times and got ideas. I'm not sure I can sing however, after a week in silence.
“W-Why?” I croak after five attempts to get my voice to more than a hoarse whisper, forcing the words from cracked and bleeding lips, I start to cry but no tears come, just wheezing sobs.
“She's too thirsty to sing. Give her a drink” the singer again, still unconcerned,
“Are you going to pay for it?”
“Just add it to my tab, I'll work it off later since I know that's all you want”
I hear the sound of laughter and a firm slap; a minute later a hose appears over the edge of the well and a steady stream of water spills in, I drink it gratefully.
“Whenever you're ready honey” A second woman appears over the edge of the well, almost albino in her complexion,
After a moment of silence, filled with resentment and tears, I force my swollen tongue to obey; singing a melancholy song about a girl lost in her memories as she wallows in a dark, dank, dungeon, the song ends by implying that she dies alone and unloved in the cold darkness of her cell, I hope the irony isn't lost on them.
“That was beautiful” the albino breathes, the Goth is silent for a moment then she shakes her head,
“I should teach Darla to sing” she says eventually “do you think she could do it?”
“Darla? Sure, loan her to me for a few weeks and I'll have her singing like an angel for you”
“And then when she divulged all of my secrets?”
“I'd ask her why she was telling me about your operation when she should be practising. You can keep Nightingale for a while longer if it'll make you feel better in the meantime”
“Please don't leave me down here” I whimper involuntarily “I'll die” my voice seems pathetically small, like a child begging the monsters under her bed to leave her alone,
“Will she?” the albino turned to the Goth
“Probably. Chances are she's suffering from deep hypothermia, she won't have slept, she only drinks as much as she can catch and she hasn't eaten unless you count the blood I tossed her last night for a joke”
Blood? She never fed me blood, I would have noticed. “You never fed me blood” I say with false bravado “I would have noticed”
“Yes, I did, you're covered in it” the Goth laughs and drops a compact mirror into the well; I catch it and flick it open, a pale blue light illuminates me and I drop the mirror in shock, my face and breasts are covered with dried blood. I scream longer and louder than I ever thought was possible and new tears burst from my eyes with accompanying wails.
“Juno. Even in context of you apparently misunderstanding me, assuming I believe you, that was just cruel” the albino sounds disapproving “you've needlessly traumatised her”
“I've taught her to respect her betters” the Goth corrects “if she behaves herself from now on she has nothing to worry about but if she doesn't she'll be back in there. Whenever she feels like disobeying or causing trouble then a part of her is going to remember how she feels right now”
“It was unnecessary and cruel. Haven't you ever heard of a blood bond?”
“So I did it because I'm a sadist, sue me”
“Just throw her a rope”
Through my tears I vaguely make out the shape of a rope as it's thrown down to me, a loop tied at one end to make a foothold, I guess I'm supposed to take hold of it but I'm not sure the attention of these two women, the Goth in particular, is any better than freezing to death in this well.
“Nightingale, sweetheart” the albino's voice takes on a honeyed edge “come out like a good girl and we'll only keep you for a week, there's towels and food and a blanket up here for you...” she lets her voice trail off and I feel my concerns start to wash away in the warmth of her words, “and I promise not to let Juno do anything this horrible to you again”
“Like I said, so long as she behaves”
I hesitate then try to slip my boot into the loop, I miss, “I can't get my foot in the hole” I whimper after four attempts; expecting another bucket of blood or, worse, the well cover sliding back into place.
“Big surprise” the Goth retracts the rope and I start to panic but they leave the well uncovered and after a minute it drops back in more of a lasso style knot “there, just loop that around your waist and hold onto it”
I obey silently and she effortlessly pulls me out one-handed, I wonder if it's because of a pulley system I can't see or if she's just freakishly strong.

It's almost as dark outside the well as in it, the only illumination being the headlights of a black sedan parked nearby with the boot popped. I shiver but it's more because of the memory of my ordeal than the surprisingly warm evening.
“She'll live” the Goth says dismissively “dry her off and stick her in the boot, I'll drive” she leaves and gets into the drivers side door of the sedan.
“Don't mind her” the albino wraps a towel around my shoulders and starts to gently dry me off with the other “she isn't as bad as she seems. There's food and blankets in the boot for you”
“Alright” I sigh weakly, not wanting to be put back into that freezing darkness “just please don't hurt me. I don't want to die”
“Do as you're told and you'll be fine” the albino gently pushes me into walking towards the boot of the sedan, lifting me into it and giving me a small silver torch “and if Juno gets pissed off stay out of her way, she'll be nicer to you the more submissive you are so if you're in any trouble with her just beg and call her Mistress a lot, she liked your song too not that she'll ever admit it. Lay down though, I don't want the boot to hit your head”
I obediently lay as flat as I can and she closes the boot, sealing me in.
The engine of the sedan roars into life and pulls away at high speed, taking me away from the life I loved and into the waiting darkness of the future.

_________________
And because He loved Her. And knew what She needed, to be. She cast out Hope to Die. On a cold and lonely sea.


Top
 Profile  
 
 
 Post subject: Re: Freezing Nightingale
PostPosted: 27 Sep 2015, 14:16 
Offline
Typewriter
User avatar

Joined: 02 Feb 2010, 23:22
Posts: 1682
Location: Grimsby
Has thanked: 42 time
Have thanks: 135 time
Wow, interesting. So Juno did become a vampire in the end. And she was a cruel one as well. Eep, remind me to stay out of her way!

It does make me wonder what happened in that 60-70 years you skipped regarding Juno and her personality. I never assumed she would be quite as cruel in the beginning, so it makes me think, what changed her?

Also, drinking the blood. Hmm, pigs blood? If so, more like a Carrie fiasco. However, it could be human blood as well, they are vampires after all. And who was the woman down the well? So many questions and very little answers!

Really enjoyed reading this. :) Good stuff.

_________________
- You must believe in yourself before you can achieve anything.
Blogger at: http://colettestirling.wordpress.com


Top
 Profile  
 
 Post subject: Re: Freezing Nightingale
PostPosted: 27 Sep 2015, 14:42 
Offline
Typewriter
User avatar

Joined: 02 Feb 2010, 23:22
Posts: 1682
Location: Grimsby
Has thanked: 42 time
Have thanks: 135 time
Having read all of the Fiction Frenzy entries submitted, Freezing Nightingale is undoubtedly the winner. There was just something about the piece that made me want to know a lot more about Juno. I was hooked.

Well done, Lynx!

I'll be popping your FF winning entry into Inkblots' October content. Of course, I'll go through and edit the piece before publishing - so it's free of grammatical and formatting errors. :) Expect to see it published on October 20th.

_________________
- You must believe in yourself before you can achieve anything.
Blogger at: http://colettestirling.wordpress.com


Top
 Profile  
 
 Post subject: Re: FICTION FRENZY WINNER - Freezing Nightingale
PostPosted: 27 Sep 2015, 15:09 
Offline
Newbie

Joined: 07 Jun 2015, 02:21
Posts: 7
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 0 time
Yeah, she became a vampire and did a lot of vile things. Culminating in her eating the soul of another vampire. In fairness to her he/she/it (it was a Nosferatu elder. They're weird as) started that fight but hey. As regards what made her so cruel? It was a lot of things which I shall put in a spoiler because there might be someone out there who'd be upset by it and I'm feeling kind for once.
Spoiler:
Basically it started post-embrace, once she'd stopped with the 'oh shit I'm a vampire. Where'd I put that enemies list?' schtick her sire used a combination of Dementation and Dominate to force her to murder her family (not that she needed much prompting, she was essentially their sex toy from the age of six and they were on her enemies list) so that nobody would report her missing etcetera. Then she locked her in a small cell with her lover and starved her until she frenzied from lack of blood. Once she regained her senses she realized what she'd done and went into a sort of defensive insanity, her personality split into two (although the new personality still called itself Juno and they had all the same memories) and the new (Nature: Monstrous, Demeanor: Sadistic) personality took over as the former withdrew more and more from a world that she just couldn't bear to be a part of but didn't have the necessary willpower to overwhelm her vampiric nature and face the sunrise. It was exacerbated by the fact that she had the nymphomania derangement but because she was clinically dead unless she chose to mimic things like breathing or a heartbeat she couldn't get any pleasure from sex anymore. A lot of increasingly desperate and twisted experimentation later she discovered that one of the few things that was the same was pain and she started to indulge her sadomasochism because it was the only release she could find from her nymphomania, becoming desensitized over time to the things she was doing she started to push the envelope more and more. At this point she can't gain much from physically torturing anyone with less stamina than a werewolf so she's moved into more psychological torture. In the stuff I'm writing for a campaign she's basically just trying to break people down more or less to the level of animals. She's a lot of fun when I use her properly but she's also difficult to work with because of her differing motives, a part of her just wants someone to hold her like Maria had when she was mortal. Lots of fun overall :P

_________________
And because He loved Her. And knew what She needed, to be. She cast out Hope to Die. On a cold and lonely sea.


Top
 Profile  
 
 Post subject: Re: FICTION FRENZY WINNER - Freezing Nightingale
PostPosted: 11 Oct 2015, 17:11 
Offline
Typewriter
User avatar

Joined: 02 Feb 2010, 23:22
Posts: 1682
Location: Grimsby
Has thanked: 42 time
Have thanks: 135 time
Wow. Sounds powerful Lynx. How interesting!

What's even greater is that I've just started watching Buffy once again as well. Been about 10 years since I last saw the whole series, so thought it was time to crack open that "vampiric" vault again.

_________________
- You must believe in yourself before you can achieve anything.
Blogger at: http://colettestirling.wordpress.com


Top
 Profile  
 
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 5 posts ] 

Contact Us | All times are UTC [ DST ]


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
cron
Donate Now
Donate Now



Hosted by © 2017 FreeForums.org | Create a free forum | Powered by phpBB
About FreeForums | Legal | Advertise Here | Investors | Contact FreeForums.org

Template made by DEVPPL Flash Games
 
suspicion-preferred