circumitus: Take control of me and wipe away my fears... (i'm a broken doll; you're the puppeteer)
Reybama ([personal profile] circumitus) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2012-11-05 11:04 pm
Entry tags:

let the candle be your guide to light your way to bed

CHARACTERS: Rey The Salamander and Kazama Souji.
LOCATION: The corridors.
WARNINGS: Creepypasta, violence, maybe gore, and terrible poetry.
SUMMARY: As a result of her mask, Rey is afflicted with homicidal insanity. She'll be stalking the halls with a kitchen knife.
NOTES: Forward-dated to sometime after the jump.



Quiet murmurs down the hall
Reaps the monsters beneath your bed
Close your eyes you'll see them crawl
Go to sleep you'll wake up dead

These words could be found etched on the walls of the ship corridors, deliberately carved with the precision of a sharp blade. More and more of them found their ways in the halls, though most of them nonsensical sentences.

Woe to those who loved me well!

And more:

Io son giĆ  morta cosa!

And more...

More I would, but Death invades me;
Death is now a welcome guest.

"You are a vessel. A jade vessel. Born to die." The vocals distorted from her lips. Lips that the mask did not show, beyond the porcelain face, the black eyes, and the red streams pouring from those two dark holes.

Her laughter turned into quiet weeps, shaking her as she ventured farther into the ship.

remember me
remember me
remember me

She chuckled again. She dragged the blade down the wall. Her steps shuffled to the silent tune that played in her head, feet guiding her through the blackness of the passages.

It was so hot here. To her, she may as well be burning in the fiery pits of a falling city. With the walls of reality crumbling, she began to "see" more clearly.

Like the woman in the labcoat, leading her into the farthest bowels of the ship. Here, she may find a little something. A new target, maybe. After all, killing is the only thing she's ever been good for.

It had been a long time coming. She needs it so desperately...

"You are a jade vessel -- you are born to die. Come away with me, come away with me..." She laughed some more.
ironsights: (pic#3813605)

[personal profile] ironsights 2012-11-19 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
There's writing on the walls. It wasn't easy to miss, and Kazama had spotted it pretty much as soon as he rounded a corner on SEC patrol. It only took a few moments for him to kneel down a run a finger across the etchings, identify them as knife carvings into the steel walls. Words that didn't seem to mean anything in particular. A poem, perhaps? Or some sort of mad rant.

Either way, the writing doesn't bode well.

Kazama follows the trail of writing, brows furrowed, his steps growing increasingly brisk and tense. And while part of him hopes that this isn't anything bad, that it's just some incredibly bored person deciding to be creative -- he knows better than to be even the slightest bit optimistic.

He's got one hand against his pistol holster by the time he spots the figure down the hallway. Just in case. The glimmer of the knife makes it clear enough that this person's the culprit behind the writing on the wall, and Kazama calls out quietly, his voice flat and sharp. "-- what are you doing."
ironsights: (Default)

[personal profile] ironsights 2012-11-22 05:32 am (UTC)(link)
Technically, she's not hurting anyone. Not really causing any trouble. Technically, he doesn't need to do anything -- could just walk away and keep to himself, not deal with this headache. But his nerves are bristling on end, not helped at all by the slow grind of that knife blade against the wall.

And when this girl says she's looking for someone, Kazama gives a slow exhale. Almost an exasperated sigh.

Best confront this problem now, just in case she's looking for someone to use that knife on.

"Who are you looking for." Spoken at a flat deadpan, hardly gentle. But not particularly vicious, either. "And why are you writing on the walls."

He edges a step forward as he says that, in case he needs to grab that knife away from her.