The New Generation of Witches of West End

Insanities Warm Embrace Dash's and Ingrid's First Summer Story

Dash's and Ingrid's First Summer....

Marcella's ruby red orbs stared pityingly down at the ashen corpse that lay across her feet. The poor young vampire had lost her will to clench down tightly to what little sanity remained with her and had fallen deep within the insanities clutches. She was like a shell, an entirely too insane shell that just lurked the streets without a single care anymore. Her eyes were like hollow, soulless pools of blood, peeking out from her veil of darkness at the way the mortals lives proceeded to unfold. She could see all of their strange emotions, the anger, the remorse, the yearning or even the hunger in their eyes and it just made her wonder how it was that she was crazy.

She left the shell of life behind her, stepping over the worn down threshold of what had been her childhood home. Her eyes flittered about as her mind drifted in and out of focus, memories of the demonic asylum filling her head. It was what she had once referred to as the devils playground, the place where all the rejects were welcome to come. Not that anyone came anymore; the only life sources within the six hundred and sixty six square foot asylum now were rats, spiders and the occasional feral animal or owl.

Her bare, porcelain souls padded through the dust and decay of her home, the silence being pierced by the voices of the damned that still remained. She could hear Lucy's careless giggles and see the glimmer of her figure as it danced through the halls with the shadows that seemed to crowd around her. Marcy followed after the shadowy figures, their voices captivating her in an almost surreal way. She was completely transfixed by them despite the small voice telling her not to follow at the back of her mind.

The shadows and voices escorted her through the halls like puppet masters, twisting and turning her figure towards the direction that they yearned her to wander towards. Finally they disappeared through a cell door, one with all too familiar stains, scratches and blemished upon the walls. They had led her to the cell that had started it all, her room in hells prisoner ward.

The rusty old cell door screeched closed behind Marcella, entrapping her once more within the ward. Marcy could have gotten out of the cramped, distorted cell had she wished to do so but as of this moment she felt no need to. She honestly didn't feel the need to do anything; the only thing crossing her mind at this moment was that she needed to sit down.

Her body slumped towards the floor, her hands clutching uselessly at her blackened hair, threatening to rip the strands of coal from her scalp. She couldn't figure it out. Why had the voices decided to pester her now of all times? Why had they led her back to this place, to the one place on earth that she had avoided like the plague? Perhaps they were just taunting her, trying to unhinge the darkest parts of her insanity. Maybe they were trying to release the beast that she had tried tirelessly to keep under lock and key.

Marcy grimaced at the taunting voices that danced about the cell, daring her to lash out at the nothingness that she still seemed unable to comprehend. It had been her curse, even from a young age; the horrendous voices that she had once thought of as friends, the ideas that had been forced within her head. It had been because of Lucy that they had left though it seemed that now even her closest friend had no control over them any longer. Her blood red orbs peered up through her lashes, glancing through the doors to where Lucy stood with her hands grasping the imaginary boy Marcy had grown to call her son. They were both staring at her with horrified expressions; their mouth moving yet no words broke through the seemingly invisible barrier around her. She watched slowly as they seemed to fade in and out of focus, images from the past dancing before her eyes, taking hold of her like you would a good friend.

The rusty old cell door screeched closed behind Marcella, entrapping her once more within the ward. Marcy could have gotten out of the cramped, distorted cell had she wished to do so but as of this moment she felt no need to. She honestly didn't feel the need to do anything; the only thing crossing her mind at this moment was that she needed to sit down.

Her body slumped towards the floor, her hands clutching uselessly at her blackened hair, threatening to rip the strands of coal from her scalp. She couldn't figure it out. Why had the voices decided to pester her now of all times? Why had they led her back to this place, to the one place on earth that she had avoided like the plague? Perhaps they were just taunting her, trying to unhinge the darkest parts of her insanity. Maybe they were trying to release the beast that she had tried tirelessly to keep under lock and key.

Marcy grimaced at the taunting voices that danced about the cell, daring her to lash out at the nothingness that she still seemed unable to comprehend. It had been her curse, even from a young age; the horrendous voices that she had once thought of as friends, the ideas that had been forced within her head. It had been because of Lucy that they had left though it seemed that now even her closest friend had no control over them any longer. Her blood red orbs peered up through her lashes, glancing through the doors to where Lucy stood with her hands grasping the imaginary boy Marcy had grown to call her son. They were both staring at her with horrified expressions; their mouth moving yet no words broke through the seemingly invisible barrier around her. She watched slowly as they seemed to fade in and out of focus, images from the past dancing before her eyes, taking hold of her like you would a good friend.