The noise of the boot hitting the stone, muffled from the rug, echoed throughout his mind. He could see the black, ghostly figure floating about, the boots and the bloodstained cloak and the mask of the skull, all of it, and he saw it carrying the dagger. He saw the dagger slam down into chests, slash across throats, stab viciously into torsos and backs, held by the hand of the ghostly figure. He could see the party, one of the many from his youth, him in the parlor of his old estate, the many other youth piled around, dancing, kissing, making merry. He was seated on a couch, leaned over on the arm with a large glass in hand and a slight, confident smirk on his face. He saw her, in the old white top and green skirt, wavy almond brown hair spilling over her shoulders. She was leaning on him, looking up at him with her bright blue eyes shining in the otherwise dim room. "Philippe," she said quietly and shyly. If not for all of his attention being focused on her, he wouldn't have heard. She reached up, running her slender fingers, one of which having a large ring on it, through his messy blonde hair. His emerald eyes gazed into her eyes, as he leaned his head close to her's, their foreheads touching together. "I love you," the girl whispered, her fair cheeks tinting pink. He smiled, and stroked her cheek lovingly. "Adeline, I-" he began to reply but suddenly his vision was dark, and the air was being choked out of him. He could hear crowds changing for his death, along with the noise of the boot hitting the floor sounded again. His head filled with pressure as he heard a faint buzzing in his ears, and his skin seemed to burn as the air was cut off from his body, and his thoughts grew light. Suddenly it all stopped, and he was in a bed, sitting up, breathing heavily, in the dimly lit room, as he heard another step. A woman sat up next to him, taking his hand in hers. "What's wrong, Phillip?~" she asked and he looked at the bare woman. Her auburn hair was a mess, and there was a slight frown on her face. He realized quickly, this was not his wife.."P-Pua?" She turned her head to the side slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?" The ghostly figure emerged from the shadows again, and as Phillip tried to scream, the noise was ripped from his throat as the figure slashed a dagger across Pua's throat, a spray of blood hitting his face and hands as he heard the sound of the boot and the floor again. He was in a room now, he was chained, and his vision was dark. His eyes fluttered open, and he heard a woman's screams in his ears. No. Rose.. he thought quickly as he struggled against the chains, and he could somehow see the vision of the other room, where the Shendar had slammed the dagger into her round stomach, and the child died immediately. Rose's hurt, agonized screams echoed through his mind as another woman walked over, someone he immediately recognized through his tear-filled eyes. Adeline put a hand on his face, whispering to him, "Oh, Philippe, it never had to be this way." He heard the boot yet again. He could now see the basement room of his estate, his bed against the wall, his wife Rose sleeping peacefully. He moved forward, and he heard the step again, sounding louder than his own thoughts. He stepped closer, realizing he wasn't doing it intentionally, as his arm raised, holding the same dagger. Phillip tried to scream in horror but he had no voice, this body wasn't under his control. The knife slammed down into her chest, as her eyes widened and she let out a quiet, muffled cough, looking at him, before dying. His soul seemed to shatter at that moment, as the knife raised again and in the reflection, he saw the skull mask and the black cloak. All the images ran through his head now, of all the people who had been killed, their blood staining the cobble of Regalia, of all the people who had attended the party and were now dead, save for the girl, and their bones that filled the yard of his family home, of his rotting corpse after he was executed for so many crimes, of Pua's blood, staining the white bedsheets as it spurted from her cut throat, his unborn child's blood, as it was taken from him, and finally his wife's blood, staining the knife in his own hand. So much blood, all the blood on his hands. He knew there would be more. All those who had wronged him now, whose blood would run soon enough. Phillip sat straight up again, and now he knew he was awake. The woman next to him was holding his hand tightly, a worried look on her pale, elegant face. "Phillip, are you alright?" He breathed deeply, trying to catch his breath, and gave a faint smile. "I-I'm fine, amour. Nothing to worry about." She leaned over and kissed his forehead, smiling sweetly. "If you're sure. Get some sleep, okay?" Phillip nodded to her, and rolled over, but opened the drawer on the desk by their bed. Inside was a book, which he flopped through the dusty, cut pages of, until he found the coin sized shard of bone he had hidden in the hollowed book. The mask had long ago been shattered, and the robe burned, and the dagger thrown into the sea, but he had kept the shard. He told himself he had left that part of him behind, that he had changed, but he knew he would never completely give it up. He laid down, and out of the corner of his eye he could still see the figure, there just like always, staring him down with empty space behind the mask, as he closed his eyes.
OOC Note: None of these people are actually dead, and if your character somehow knows about Phillip's gang activity that's some hardcore meta gaming because no one except his previous gang members know, and Adeline, who has not said a word to anyone.
Tags:
@Puagrace @AtticCat @Metallum @Friendly_Gal @OtherFaithfulReaders
OOC Note: None of these people are actually dead, and if your character somehow knows about Phillip's gang activity that's some hardcore meta gaming because no one except his previous gang members know, and Adeline, who has not said a word to anyone.
Tags:
@Puagrace @AtticCat @Metallum @Friendly_Gal @OtherFaithfulReaders
