Hi there! I'm not sure if this is quite what you're expecting but enjoy! - Lucien Lachance felt free. He wasn't bound by the same rules as when he was alive and although he sometimes missed being alive, it didn't does not top the feeling of not feeling in the Void. One does not feel in the Void; it was a bleak but peaceful existence, shattered only when he was summoned. He relished the moments when the Dragonborn summons him. She was a beautiful thing, the Dragonborn, bloodthirsty and harsh but with an innocence that he is so very tempted to taint. But alas, he cannot.
Instead he had settled with killing and the joy it brought him. He would never allow the Dragonborn to bloody her hands once she had summoned him and she seemed content to watch him, just as she did now.
They were simply bandits, in a cave filled with bandits, and Lucien felt the sick sense of satisfaction, the warmth that spread in his undead soul like a dark stain. The man, a boy really, whimpered at his feet, begging him for mercy. He grinned widely, unsheathing his dagger slowly, relishing the waves of fear that rolled off of the boy. "I am Lucien Lachance," He whispered, wanting the boy to know who had killed him. He wanted the boy-bandit to know who he was and be the last image the boy sees when all the blood has run dry.
"Please," The boy whimpered, trying to scamper back. Lucien chuckled and approached slowly, his steps measured and quiet. The boy hit the wall of the cave and curled up into a ball, crying.
Excitement rushed over him, making him drunk on the emotion. He did not feel in the Void. He grinned again, ah, he so do loved being summoned. It gave him a chance to...feel. He grabbed the boy's blond hair and pulled him up, slicing his cheek and laughing at his pain. The boy screamed and sobbed and begged as Lucien sliced meticulously, in measured strokes. Blood was flying as his cuts grew deeper and deeper, overlapping other cuts.
"Please, no more," The boy-bandit moaned.
"Oh?" Lucien chuckled, "But we were just getting started." He grinned widely, his form flashing, solidifying for one curious moment. The boy kept whimpering so Lucien plunged his dagger in the boy's stomach. It wouldn't kill him, at least, not immediately. The boy screamed and Lucien twisted the blade harshly. Blood spattered on his shimmering face and he stared into the boy's eyes impassively despite feeling the sheer joy that was washing over him.
"No more," The boy sobbed, "Kill me."
"You want more? I'll be happy to oblige." He took another stab and the boy screamed again, his voice hoarse. Lucien's dark chuckle echoed throughout the cave. He stabbed again and again, in various places. The boy eventually grew quiet, falling into shock and blood loss. Lucien pursed his lips, "A pity. I was just starting to enjoy myself." He grunted and pulled the boy's head up again. He met the boy-bandit's glassy eyes, "Sweet dreams," Lucien purred and pressed the cold blade against the boy's throat.
Warm blood spurt from the jagged line across the boy's throat. At an angle it looked as though the boy was grinning. Lucien dropped the body and smiled at his handiwork. Each precise cut was highlighted in red and as the dark pool spread around the boy's broken body, he watched, satisfied, as the life drained out of the boy's cornflower blue eyes.
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timeasmymeasure
Satisfaction
Date: 2014-03-24 07:38 pm (UTC)-
Lucien Lachance felt free. He wasn't bound by the same rules as when he was alive and although he sometimes missed being alive, it didn't does not top the feeling of not feeling in the Void. One does not feel in the Void; it was a bleak but peaceful existence, shattered only when he was summoned. He relished the moments when the Dragonborn summons him. She was a beautiful thing, the Dragonborn, bloodthirsty and harsh but with an innocence that he is so very tempted to taint. But alas, he cannot.
Instead he had settled with killing and the joy it brought him. He would never allow the Dragonborn to bloody her hands once she had summoned him and she seemed content to watch him, just as she did now.
They were simply bandits, in a cave filled with bandits, and Lucien felt the sick sense of satisfaction, the warmth that spread in his undead soul like a dark stain. The man, a boy really, whimpered at his feet, begging him for mercy. He grinned widely, unsheathing his dagger slowly, relishing the waves of fear that rolled off of the boy. "I am Lucien Lachance," He whispered, wanting the boy to know who had killed him. He wanted the boy-bandit to know who he was and be the last image the boy sees when all the blood has run dry.
"Please," The boy whimpered, trying to scamper back. Lucien chuckled and approached slowly, his steps measured and quiet. The boy hit the wall of the cave and curled up into a ball, crying.
Excitement rushed over him, making him drunk on the emotion. He did not feel in the Void. He grinned again, ah, he so do loved being summoned. It gave him a chance to...feel. He grabbed the boy's blond hair and pulled him up, slicing his cheek and laughing at his pain. The boy screamed and sobbed and begged as Lucien sliced meticulously, in measured strokes. Blood was flying as his cuts grew deeper and deeper, overlapping other cuts.
"Please, no more," The boy-bandit moaned.
"Oh?" Lucien chuckled, "But we were just getting started." He grinned widely, his form flashing, solidifying for one curious moment. The boy kept whimpering so Lucien plunged his dagger in the boy's stomach. It wouldn't kill him, at least, not immediately. The boy screamed and Lucien twisted the blade harshly. Blood spattered on his shimmering face and he stared into the boy's eyes impassively despite feeling the sheer joy that was washing over him.
"No more," The boy sobbed, "Kill me."
"You want more? I'll be happy to oblige." He took another stab and the boy screamed again, his voice hoarse. Lucien's dark chuckle echoed throughout the cave. He stabbed again and again, in various places. The boy eventually grew quiet, falling into shock and blood loss. Lucien pursed his lips, "A pity. I was just starting to enjoy myself." He grunted and pulled the boy's head up again. He met the boy-bandit's glassy eyes, "Sweet dreams," Lucien purred and pressed the cold blade against the boy's throat.
Warm blood spurt from the jagged line across the boy's throat. At an angle it looked as though the boy was grinning. Lucien dropped the body and smiled at his handiwork. Each precise cut was highlighted in red and as the dark pool spread around the boy's broken body, he watched, satisfied, as the life drained out of the boy's cornflower blue eyes.