Thread: Yo Ho, Ho, And A Bottle of Rhum on a Dead Man's Chest;;

The stillness pervaded the room as Torean sat alone in the darkness. The smell of the nearby rotting corpses didn't bother him, being used to the stench by now and lost in thought, finally at peace now that It was asleep. The thing that plagued his existence, the demon that resided within him, a constant burden, yet his only companion. When it awoke to feed on the blood and flesh of others, it took over Torean completely and he became a part of it, like their consciousness melded. Only when the thing faded back into it's hiding place deep in his mind, did he ever come back to himself and remember that they were separate beings inhabiting the same form. Sometimes when in the creatures hold, it was like he was a part of him. When the bloodlust overcame him, it felt like it was his own, especially the joy that coursed through him as his hands and sword tore into the body of another. Torean cursed the men who laid this burden upon him so long ago it seemed, his desire for their blood all his own. He would hunt them down and kill them for what they'd done to him, cursing him with this beast that haunted him. If only he could find them, he'd make them pay and get his life back... As much as he despised the urges that came upon him and the indistinguishability between the demon's thoughts and his own when they did, he didn't fight the thing's whims when it came over him. In fact, he even played it's game, often times because of necessity--people were not easily swayed by him when the demon was in full control. So, he had to be the one in charge of the form, to lure in victims for the demon's bloodlust, sometimes soliciting on the street or in a pub. If he didn't go out, the thing could always lure passerby into the building by pure strength of will, but Torean was often willing to be the one to set the trap. Over the years of being with the demon, having it whisper in his ear and taking over his body while letting him feel and think every thought and emotion it had, he'd grown apathetic towards his fellow man, seeing nothing but bodies and the blood and guts inside them. Constantly considering who would be easiest or most pleasurable for the demon to rip to shreds and weighing people on sight by that desirability, he saw everyone like that now, whether he meant to or not. Consumed by the bloodlust that drove the thing inside him, it was all he lived for. That and revenge, of course. The hope for a better life, free of this monster was just out of reach and something he always strived for, but mostly he got lost in the here and now, in the everyday, every hour longings of the demon. But now, the house was still and quiet, nothing but him and the creaking of the architecture and the few dozen corpses lying about. Rats and all kinds of other vermin crawled about here and there, partaking in the spoils the demon had left behind, the rotting flesh going to waste otherwise. The demon's presence gave him a certain immunity to disease as well as encouraging the appearance of these small fowl creatures, infecting everything with the scent of death so the animals came willingly looking for a shared meal. The bodies that lay about the dilapidated house were of both men and women, some still recognizable as human, others merely pieces of organs, bone and flesh. It was in the killing that the demon gained the most joy and satiation, but sometimes it also fed upon the blood it spilled, filling that hungry need within it. Torean wasn't so lost in thought that he didn't sense the disturbance when it came, smelling her before she even made any noise entering the building. He could feel her heart beating quickly and his brow furrowed in curious confusion. An aura of dread hung around the place, as well as the smell of death that assaulted the senses and intuition of those who came too close. Most others if they noticed the building consciously at all, quickly tried to ignore it again soon after, shoving it away fearfully in their minds. Those that were lured from the street had to be put into a trance to get them to come into the house let alone anywhere near it, the demon's spiritual influence extending a great distance, and latching onto them like the tentacles of some incorporeal sea monster. So all he could think was 'why?' Why had this woman--for he perceived her presence to be female--come into this den of evil...willingly? To say the least Torean was curious at what she could be hoping to find and what kind of woman would it take to brave such an obvious abattoir. The demon inside stirred, but it did not wake fully, waiting and watching through his eyes for an opportunity to strike. Torean thought it best to let the woman come to him and he sat silently in the dark under the crooked eaves, among the rubble that was strewn about the back room of the house. If it appeared she was going to leave without finding him, having gained some sense since entering, he'd pull her towards him using the demon's will and let it feed upon her gloriously painful death. Afterall, no need to discard such a great opportunity. There was a tension surrounding him as he watched the doorway with piercing gray-blue eyes, sitting upon the floor with his back against the wall, broken furniture and torn cloth laying about him on the ground.