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Primal Instinct - Catia's most painful memory

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Primal Instinct - Catia's most painful memory

Post by ShadowFantasy on 7/21/2015, 2:32 am

(OOC: Feel free to comment below with your thoughts! I'll try posting some more of Catia's origin stories as they come to me for you guys to read! ^^)

Fear.  Fear….and grief….

That’s what I felt as I watched my home begin to burn around me.  The ceiling soon collapsed to let the full moon shine through into our house as the flaming debris fell and hit the ground next to me, scattering coals and embers at my feet.  I could feel the red hot wood as its scattered particles touched my bare skin, searing it and threatening to set my own clothing, a pure white dress, on fire with the rest of my home.  Nigh moments ago my parents entered my room, my father bashing the door in and nearly tossing my little sister, Kiria Lumenheim, at me.  They told me to protect her and get out of bed.  They told me to run far away from here as a flaming torch crashed through the glass panes of the window next to my bed, the hooting and hollering of a band of Scarclaw bandits being heard outside as I felt the house shake from them trying to bust down our front door.  Kiria immediately crawled into my arms and began crying as I wrapped my arms around her and stroked her hair, trying as best as I could myself not to burst into tears.  We were so young back then….we didn’t know what was about to happen.

As we raced down the stairs of my burning home, I heard the pained cries of agony from my parents coming from the hallway nearest to the front door.  The sounds of steel rending flesh and the splashing of blood filling my ears as my little sister sobbed in my arms.  The only thought I had in my head was to run.  Run as far away from this place as I could until we were finally out of sight.  I had no plan for when we’d gotten away nor did I care to think of one.  Right now was my biggest moment as a big sister, protecting her and keeping her safe even if it meant telling her to run and hoping that she’d escape.  It was wishful thinking.

As we reached the living room and saw our parents corpses on the ground next to each other, the blood from their freshly slaughtered bodies still draining from them and pooling onto the floor, I spotted a woman dressed in a tattered, white dress.  The bloodstains on it showed that she’d killed several people before as she turned and faced us.  My heart pounded in my chest as every fiber of my being screamed for me to take my little sister by her tiny hands and run away from her.  But as I gazed at my reflection in her weapon, a bloodstained scythe seemingly made from the skull and spine of someone at least twice our size, I found myself immobilized by my fear.  I couldn’t move, my feet frozen to the spot as if someone had super glued them there.  My sister cried in my arms as I watched the woman order the bandits around her to come over and take my little sister alive and do with her what they’d liked.  I finally snapped out of my fear as I felt my little sister being tugged away from me and out of my hands.  I heard her cries of fear as she screamed my name, to save her from these vicious things we now called Scarclaws.  An amalgamation of humankinds most desperate attempt to save themselves by splicing human DNA with that of an animals.  I didn’t understand it at the time, only knowing that they’d decided to turn on their creators and fight back.  These animal-human hybrids ripped and teared at my sister’s clothing as they took her away, making me scream and reach out for her hand to take her away from this place.

My breath stopped as I felt something slip inside of my body from behind.  It hurt and made me stop where I was.  Looking down I saw that a blade of steel had pierced my body from behind, making blood pour from my new injury and stain the pure white dress that I’d once loved so much.  I screamed in pain as I felt the blade being pushed further through my body, a delighted female voice being heard giggling behind me.  I glanced back and saw the woman who had once been holding the scythe I was so deathly afraid of, a sadistic, pleased grin on her face.  She pushed the weapon that she’d stabbed me with far enough for the top of its hilt to reach my spine and I screamed more as she sat down with me in her arms, stroking my hair as she whispered into my ears.  I’ll never forget what she said then…

Your cries of pain….let them sing you to sleep tonight as you slip into an unending dream from which you’ll never awaken from.  But don’t cry little girl.  For you, death is a release.  A release from this pain and suffering that torments you so.

As she carefully pulled the blade from my body and laid me down onto the ground, she put a gentle hand onto my cheek.  I barely felt the floor as I was put down, my vision quickly disappearing from my eyes as my senses finally started to go numb.  She bent down and whispered one last thing into my ears as I succumbed to the darkness that was clouding my vision.

Sweet dreams….little girl.
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