Priestess of Sin
The forest was always alive. The wind rustling through the trees, the calls of distant creatures, and the soft murmur of the stream that wound its way past our village – these sounds formed the symphony of my childhood.
The great Jura Forest was my home, and for the seventeen years I had lived, I felt its life force intertwine with my own.
I was born to a family of proud Oni.
My father was a renowned blacksmith, his hands capable of crafting swords that sang in the hands of warriors.
My mother was our village's healer, her touch bringing relief and solace to the injured and the ill.
I had a younger brother whose curiosity and laughter were the heartbeats of our home.
My older sister was a warrior-in-training, her skill with the sword a source of inspiration for me.
Tomorrow was to be a special day.
My first lesson in swordsmanship. My sister had promised to teach me the basics, and I had spent the entire night envisioning the two of us in the clearing, her graceful movements guiding my awkward attempts.
I could barely contain my excitement.
But the dawn brought with it something else.
The sky turned dark, clouds swirling ominously, and a chill settled over the forest. From the depths of the forest, a roar echoed, sending shivers down my spine.
A Gigantic flying creature with dark blue scales appeared near our village.
The creature descended upon our village like a storm unleashed.
Its massive, draconic-serpentine form blotted out the sun, and its rage was a force of nature.
Buildings crumbled, trees were uprooted, and the air was filled with the screams of my people.
I remember my father's shout, telling us to run, to hide.
He stood in the path of the beast, his hammer in hand, a futile attempt to protect us.
Charybdis's maw opened, and with a snap, he was gone.
My mother pushed my brother and me toward the forest, her eyes filled with terror and love.
She turned back, chanting a protective spell, but the beast's massive tail crashed down upon her, silencing her forever.
We ran, but we were separated in the chaos.
I heard my brother's desperate cries filled with terror of death, saw his small form trying to escape the destruction, and then silence.
The silence was the worst part.
The void where his voice had been was more deafening than any roar of Charybdis.
My sister found me, dragged me to the edge of the village. She fought bravely, her sword dancing in a desperate bid to fend off the beast.
But Charybdis was inevitable, A swipe of its claw sent her flying, her body hitting the ground with a sickening squelch turning into a grotesque mess as her bodytyrned into a mush of blood and organs.
I don't remember how I escaped. The memories are a blur of fear and pain. As I fled, I felt a burning sensation on my skin.
Looking back, I saw Charybdis above, its scales glistening with a viscous, dark fluid.
Some of it had splashed onto me during the chaos.
I brushed at it, but the liquid seemed to seep into my skin, causing an unbearable burning.
Somehow, I reached the warrior nation of Dwargon.
Exhaustion and grief weighed me down, and I collapsed at their gates.
They took me in, nursed me back to health. But something inside me had changed.
The encounter with Charybdis had marked me in ways I couldn't understand.
Over time, my once vibrant red hair turned a stark, unnatural grey.
My eyes, which had been filled with life and curiosity, grew dull.
Emotions that once flowed freely now felt muted, distant. I was a shell of who I had been. The viscous fluid from Charybdis had started to change me, twisting my body and my mind.
The trauma lingered, a shadow over my every thought.
In Dwargon, I found refuge, but I could not find peace.
The great Jura Forest, my home, was now a graveyard, and in my soul, a storm raged as fierce as the one that had brought Charybdis to our village.
The physical changes mirrored my inner turmoil.
The grey hair, the dulled emotions, the occasional bouts of fever and pain as the fluid from Charybdis continued its sinister work within me.
I had survived the beast's rampage, but in doing so, I had become something else.
The fluid was transforming me, turning me into a reminder of the horror that had destroyed my family and my village.
But it wasn't just the physical changes. At night, I was tormented by the voices of my family, their screams echoing in my head, dragging me back to that dreadful day.
During sleep, I would hear my father's last shout, my mother's protective chant cut short, my brother's terrified cries, and my sister's final, desperate battle.
These voices pursued me into my waking hours, especially when I looked at humans.
Their faces would blur, morphing into the faces of my lost loved ones, their eyes filled with the same terror I had seen that day.
An unnatural bloodlust began to grow within me.
It started as a whisper, a faint, unsettling urge, but over time, it became a roar.
The more i trained, the more I fought, the stronger it became.
It was as if the fluid from Charybdis had not only changed my body but had also implanted a fragment of its own monstrous rage within me.
I craved the fight, the clash of steel, the rush of battle.
The need for violence simmered beneath my skin, threatening to boil over at any moment.
As I struggled with these changes, I discovered a new, unsettling ability. I could sense the sins of others.
When I looked at someone, I felt a dark, cloying aura around them, revealing their transgressions, whispering ways for me to punish them.
This skill was as much a curse as it was a tool.
It fueled my growing bloodlust, making it difficult to see the good in anyone.
Every human I encountered seemed tainted, their sins a beacon that drew my rage.
I lived in constant fear of losing control, of succumbing to the bloodlust that had taken root in my soul.
I trained harder, pushed myself further, hoping to master it, to channel it. But the more I fought it, the stronger it grew.
I had become something neither fully Oni nor fully monster, a haunted being torn between the memories of my family and the darkness that now lived inside me.
Sometimes, in my dreams, I would find myself standing before a temple of skulls and grime, surrounded by an unending blood-red ocean.
The temple rises ominously from the crimson waves, constructed from countless bones and fragments of lives lost.
The walls, slick with a foul, dark substance, pulse with a sickening energy that seems to seep into my very soul.
The blood-red ocean churns ceaselessly, the waves crashing against the temple's base, sending sprays of scarlet droplets into the air.
The stench of death and decay permeates the atmosphere, filling my lungs with every breath.
The water is thick and cold, lapping at my feet, staining everything it touches.
Inside the temple, the ground is covered in grime and filth, the remnants of bodies, cushed organs eyes blood.
As I walk through the eerie halls, the walls seem to close in around me, the skulls staring with empty eye sockets, which seemed to flow with the same blood red liquid that splashed me .
I feel a crushing weight of sorrow and rage, the emotions of those who perished here seeping into my consciousness.
At the heart of the temple, an altar stands, bathed in an unholy light.
On it lies a twisted, grotesque idol, a mockery of life and death, its eyes burning with a malevolent fire.
Its mouth continuously leaking blood as it pools around.
The screams of my family and villagers fill the air, mingling with the distant roar of Charybdis.
I am drawn to the altar, my bloodlust intensifying with every step, my hands shaking with the need to destroy, to kill , to consume, to punish, to rage.
But as I reach out and touch the idol, I awaken, drenched in sweat, the screams still echoing in my ears, the scent of blood and death lingering in my nostrils.
The skin around my hand cracking loke the walls of a castle revealing pitch black muscles pulsing as if they had a mind of it own.
My stomach churns violently, a sickening twist that sends me rushing to the bathroom.
I barely make it to the sink before I retch, emptying the contents of my stomach.
The sight that meets my eyes is horrifying – dark, thick blood mixed with a foul grime, the same substance that coated the walls of the temple in my dream.
I collapse against the sink, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Trembling, I force myself to look up at the mirror.
The face staring back at me is barely recognizable.
My once smooth skin is now cracked, with red lines running like jagged fissures along its surface. My eyes, which used to sparkle with life, are now a constant pulsing red, glowing with a sinister light.
I touch my face, feeling the heat emanating from the cracks, the pain radiating from the lines. My horns, once a symbol of my Oni heritage, are suffering the same fate.
The dark substance from Charybdis has tainted them, turning them into grotesque, pulsing masses of red and black.
They throb with each beat of my heart, a reminder of the monster that changed me.
I stare at my reflection, horrified and fascinated.
The changes are becoming more pronounced, the monster within me rising to the surface. The blood and grime, the cracked skin, the pulsing red eyes – they are all signs of the darkness that has taken root in my soul.
However , as I stare into the mirror, observing the grotesque transformation overtaking my once familiar features, I feel a strange sense of acceptance wash over me.
The terror that once gripped my heart at the sight of my own reflection has been replaced by a newfound calmness, a resigned acknowledgment of the darkness that now courses through my veins.
In the depths of my being, something stirs – a primal force, untamed and unyielding.
It whispers to me, promising liberation from the shackles of fear and doubt.
With each crack that mars my skin, each pulse of crimson light in my eyes, I feel its presence grow stronger, asserting its dominance over my fractured soul.
However i so not dread it no i revel in it.
The bloodlust that once filled me with dread now thrums through my veins like a primal drumbeat, urging me to embrace the darkness, to revel in the power it offers.
The memories of my family, the horrors of Charybdis, they still haunt me, but they no longer hold sway over my actions.
I am no longer bound by the constraints of morality or conscience.
I am a creature of evil driven by the primal urge to destroy, to conquer, to dominate.
As I gaze upon my transformed reflection, a twisted smile curls upon my lips.
I no longer fear the change that consumes me; instead, I welcome it with open arms.
For in the darkness, I have found a freedom unlike any other, a liberation from the constraints of my former pathetic self.
And as the red lines deepen, as my eyes blaze with unholy light, I know that I am destined for greatness – a harbinger of chaos and destruction, a force to be reckoned with in this world and the next.
The priestess of sin , the servant of evil is born welcomed by the Evils of the world.
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Also ill say it again no yuri here 🗿
Almost 2000 words lol 🔥🔥
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone