Ria Colton | on hold

Marsiliah

For ㄚ.乙.卄
• No one understands me better than you •

"Hush"

The night breeze curled around her exposed skin, forcing goosebumps to form on the layer. Shivering in the cold, she grabbed the handle of her mug harder, the force chipping the side as it brushed against the railings. She hovered over the balcony, her fear of heights forcing her to look away. Though the distance was no more than a few feet high, it didn't stop the constant race her heart ran. She inhaled from the cigarette stub that smeared a line of ash between her index and middle finger.

"Mars, think. Think harder. Think stronger. Think like her."

Her own voice sounded raspy to herself, like someone had sizzled and burned her tongue, preventing human speech and preparing slurred threats. The skin on her neck was hard to her touch. It stood like a barrier to her original silk skin. Rough patches of skin were scattered all over her body, just like the patch on her neck. She pulled the turtle neck higher; enough to cover the reptilian skin.

Plucking an apple from the branch nearest to her window, she bit into its juice flesh, crunching on the chewy goodness. Disgusted by the sweet, succulent taste, she threw the apple and watched it fall to the ground with a satisfying thud. Marsiliah inhaled a deep breath and raised her mug to her lips. Satiated, she sipped the content loudly, the bitter, medicinal taste heaven to her tongue.

It was an obvious fact that whoever she was, Marsiliah didn't like a fraction of anything good. She was evil to the core, proud of the reigning devil in her corrupt soul. Her plans divulged to the darkness, a mind that never stopped turning and twisting. She was the child of the devil, or as she likes to think, the parent of the demons. Being born of ordinary parents made her feel... disgusted. Even though, their normality made her feel more prominent, greatly powerful, she hated the tiny mustard seed of good in her bones. The good that told her to love, cherish and protect. But she was to change that, she already had, eleven years ago, during the full shining of the sun. Darkness doesn't need night to kill, it needed a body, she served it well.

But it cost her something priceless.

Loneliness. A feeling even the dead feel. It's what sticks with one throughout their whole lives. One can be in a room full of thousands of people and still feel alone. Or one can fulfil their desires of seclusion and still feel alone, unhappy. What does loneliness mean? Sadness because one has no friends or company? Or is it the companion that never leaves us? Are we truly ever alone? Loneliness never leaves, so does that mean loneliness truly doesn't exist?

A flicker of her confused mind. Loneliness confused her, but she felt it, sickly sitting between the cracks of her bones. It was powerful, she had to overcome it, even if the cost was bringing the blood back into Kildare Manor.

She bit her lip till a snake of blood slithered down to her chin and fell into her mug. She watched the crimson diffuse into the translucent liquid, spreading and invading the blankness, turning everything red. She shivered, her fear had just played out in front of her intense gaze. Blood could take over. Blood can win over. Should she call her own destruction upon herself?

"No." Marsiliah rasped. "I can teach her. Teach her obedience to me. Teach her my ways." Forcing her eyes shut, she dug her long finger nails into her thigh. Marsiliah ran into her room and slammed the balcony door shut.

"I will teach her!" She screamed with all her might against the soundproof walls, scratching against the white wall like a wild cat who needed to stab its claws into flesh.

"I will teach her." She turned around and punched the mirror, watching it crumble. Shards of glass penetrated her soft skin, leaving a trail of blood across her cracked knuckles. Her cry of pain wasn't enough to stop her erratic heart.

"I will teach her." She whispered as she pulled out a tiny shard incredulously. A cold tear rolled down to meet her warm, burning skin.

"I will teach her."

Madmen. Madmen don't search for lost ones, the ones they've thrown away. Marsiliah wasn't a madman, she was the madwoman, madwomen were different, much more ferocious and primitive, wiling to do whatever it took to remove threat. But Marsiliah wasn't scared of bringing back the gone, specially when she needed them to serve her.

"I'm not scared." She pulled her raven hair and shrieked. "Mars doesn't fear."

She knew what do to— she knew who to bring.

Her eyes fell upon the mug balancing on the railings. Marsiliah hated survivors, hated those who could live without her presence. She pulled the door open again and stepped out into the balcony. With a bloody, lean finger, she tipped the mug and watched it fall faster then expected. It shatter into a handful of pieces, scattering all over the gravel. She sighed as a small smile snaked onto her lips.

"Are you OK, Miss Clevard?" Gordon peaked out of the garage and asked wearily.

"All good, Gordon, please dispose the glass. We will be having some visitors soon." She chirped with an extra smile upon her rotten one. "Thank you, Gordon."

"You're welcome, Miss." Gordon retreated back to fetch a broom as Marsiliah locked herself back into her spacious, empty room, with just a luxurious bed and a grand dressing table.

She sat at her dressing table and frantically searched for a piece of paper, her fingers cried as they came in contact with various objects. She pulled out the last bits of paper she had and tried to wipe away the smudge in the left corner. Her bloody fingers offered no support. She ripped out a white gown from her drawer and wrapped it around her hands to stop the overflow of blood.

She was Marsiliah Clevard. Born of the rich Bien blood, she'll carry the family legacy, the one her parents, their parents and their grandparents broke. The one they refuse to acknowledge and call their own legacy. She will resurrect it, in her own way.

Dear Mr and Mrs Colton,

I'm Marsiliah Clevard...

•—•

That was pretty dark.

I live in a rainbow, but that doesn't mean I can't come out of it, hehe.

Marsiliah may be a dark character, but sometimes, we need to know the back story before accusing.

Tell me what you think of the start? I'm dying to know!