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The Death of Eliza (Unfinished)
13 years ago
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for a comprehensive list of all of my significant writings, WIPs, and conceptual works posted as submissions and in journals.
(journal link) The flair of my writing, displayed for thoughtful browsing
for a comprehensive list of all of my significant writings, WIPs, and conceptual works posted as submissions and in journals.(journal link) The flair of my writing, displayed for thoughtful browsing
She enjoys portraying herself as a half-aware and dimwitted beast, drunken in the stupor of her own bodily composure.The title of this story is only a placeholder.
This is something I wrote back on February 13th of 2011. It's meant to detail the final moments of Eliza, the wife of Nigellus (who is Misfortune).
I have a knack for writing out the most integral moments of a story before I even write out the rest of the story that surrounds the integral moment. x3
Everything here is subject to revision. However, I'm actually very proud of what I did here.
I want to write out more narration like this, to attract more attention to my stories for more reasons than just eroticism...
This is all relevant to events within Misfortune's origin story. It's not the beginning, nor is it the end of his origin story.
Enjoy.
Nigellus: *his very being surrounding her, his eyes falling upon her as he asked his question* Is he sleeping? *he speaks, tilting his head as his eyes seemed to then focus on her belly...*
Elizabeth: HELP ME!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!!
Nigellus: ...Perhaps not. *he spoke, averting his gaze from her, his eyes of a controlled yet sporadic confusion*
Elizabeth: GET AWAY!!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!!
[narration conveying Cursed's sudden disinterest in pursuing his unborn son]
Nigellus: You must take care of him, and well. I am not who I once was, and my hand in his affairs could only... *his eyes fell to observe what were the grotesque hands of his that had seemed to formulate from sheer will. He gawked in what was his own unique expression of shock, gaining with each passing moment a more daunting realization of just what it was he had become, shuddering with horror in what was his voice* No...
Elizabeth: Stay away!!!
Nigellus: I could not... I WOULD NOT. *he then began to reach out towards her belly, thinking himself to have become something of a much greater being, this being a twisted yet default mindstate. His eyes became fixated on her face, his rage building in each passing second that seemed to take on an unusual, visceral life of its own. She shrieked as she bore witness to the terrifying sight of a multitude of ethereal shards of steel pointing their each and every individually wicked point at her belly. They spun with sporadic and most horrible sounds of clanking against one another, appearing as though fragments of something once whole and inanimate now posessed of a most wicked fixation* He belongs to me...
Elizabeth: STAY AWAY FROM US!!!
Nigellus: He belongs...with me, and yet... *the shards began to then slow in their pace, having now become of an oddly unfocused disfunction as he reached with miserably disfigured hands towards the womb of his betrothed. Their movement patterns hardly seemed to convey emotions likened unto the hideous wraith Nigellus had most assuredly become. But this neither concerned nor bothered him, as what had become the lone claw of a beast-like digit made physically manifest pricked her stiff belly, which caused her to scramble to her feet in trying to escape him* That... It cannot be...
[Convey that Nigellus follows after his Elizabeth in a certain, dangerous way]
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
TO ADD:
Nigellus: I...would have him. And yet...he would be in better hands; better spirits... *as his voice took on a rather questioning tone born from animosity* ...under YOUR care?!
Elizabeth: No... *she expressed in her unwilling realization* You're...you're after...
Nigellus: This...body... *he began* It neither condemns me to nor saves me from festering decay yet it moves unfaltering, shifting and seeping through all in its advance. It conspires with the darkness of my mind, the unspoken truths of my heart's every inclination transpiring before my very eyes...
Elizabeth: Spare us... *she cried* Please spare us!
Upon hearing those reiterated words of his beloved, he lifted what had become right and left hands, observing them closely. His form appeared to almost tremble, those hands having fastidiously shifted from the form of pliable, human hands into the bestial likeness of thickly soled nepharim hands, only to become what were then sharply taloned, avian-like claws that successively deteriorated into the hideously malformed hands he had only just bore witness to in the moment prior to his iniquitous realizations...
Nigellus: I...would not lose you... I could not...
He reached out to his beloved with what were then wickedly reptilian hands, lifting a locke of her hair with a single talon as he began to purr in his chest a lilting flutter much like that of a most ancient dragon. He then carefully collected her shivering body within the gentleness of his clutches, curling around her belly a single talon with which to caress their unborn child. Elizabeth trembled, her eyes shut indefinitely as she shuddered miserably, helpless to stop him from enacting whatever he might so choose to do.
Nigellus: The gods have expunged me from their grace, Eliza. They will neither condemn nor save what is left of my broken soul. *he began to then clench his talons down upon her in an angry spite, oblivious to the pressure applied upon her lungs that halted her breathing* No... I cannot leave him... I WON'T let them have him...
Elizabeth: *her eyes gawked open in utter horror, her thoughts only on her son as she shuddered in what little of breath could escape her constricted windpipe...*
Nigellus: They cannot take from me my very own flesh and blood! They will not DEPRIVE me of him! GIVE HIM TO ME!!!
Elizabeth: *her face had gone pale...*
Nigellus: THEY CANNOT TAKE AWAY MY LEGACY!!!
In only the duration in the moment of Nigellus' declarations, his wife's body no longer tugged and trembled in his grasp. At some point that had gone by utterly unnoticed, she had even lost the ability to breathe...
Nigellus: ELIZA!
He then began to shake her limp body in what had quickly become a most cruel indignance, ringing it in his maddening despair...
Nigellus: ...Eliza?
There wouldn't be a single response to be given from her...
Nigellus: Eliza?!
He then placed her upon the ground with hasty caution, shaking her corpse in hopes of recieving some kind; ANY kind of response...
Nigellus: No... *he breathed upon his realization* NO!!!
What were his eyes remained open in a perpetual disbelief.
Nigellus: What have I done...? WHAT HAVE I DONE?! Eliza... Wake up... *as he mildly shook her body* He... He needs you... He needs your nourishment... My Love, please...
He hadn't the capability to shed a single tear...
Nigellus: ...Please wake up. He's not... He's not done yet... He hasn't even started! Wake up... Wake up, I beg of you, WAKE UP!!!
It was then that he came to realize his error...
Nigellus: Dear God, give her BACK to me!
The general idea here isn't sketchy, but the details surrounding it still are. I need to convey the nature of the moment where Misfortune takes his unborn son unto himself. However, I've had many mixed feelings as to just who is the mother of his son.
It will most likely just be Eliza, and not Sharon, his large, wolven slave...
This is something I wrote back on February 13th of 2011. It's meant to detail the final moments of Eliza, the wife of Nigellus (who is Misfortune).
I have a knack for writing out the most integral moments of a story before I even write out the rest of the story that surrounds the integral moment. x3
Everything here is subject to revision. However, I'm actually very proud of what I did here.
I want to write out more narration like this, to attract more attention to my stories for more reasons than just eroticism...
This is all relevant to events within Misfortune's origin story. It's not the beginning, nor is it the end of his origin story.
Enjoy.
Nigellus: *his very being surrounding her, his eyes falling upon her as he asked his question* Is he sleeping? *he speaks, tilting his head as his eyes seemed to then focus on her belly...*
Elizabeth: HELP ME!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!!
Nigellus: ...Perhaps not. *he spoke, averting his gaze from her, his eyes of a controlled yet sporadic confusion*
Elizabeth: GET AWAY!!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!!
[narration conveying Cursed's sudden disinterest in pursuing his unborn son]
Nigellus: You must take care of him, and well. I am not who I once was, and my hand in his affairs could only... *his eyes fell to observe what were the grotesque hands of his that had seemed to formulate from sheer will. He gawked in what was his own unique expression of shock, gaining with each passing moment a more daunting realization of just what it was he had become, shuddering with horror in what was his voice* No...
Elizabeth: Stay away!!!
Nigellus: I could not... I WOULD NOT. *he then began to reach out towards her belly, thinking himself to have become something of a much greater being, this being a twisted yet default mindstate. His eyes became fixated on her face, his rage building in each passing second that seemed to take on an unusual, visceral life of its own. She shrieked as she bore witness to the terrifying sight of a multitude of ethereal shards of steel pointing their each and every individually wicked point at her belly. They spun with sporadic and most horrible sounds of clanking against one another, appearing as though fragments of something once whole and inanimate now posessed of a most wicked fixation* He belongs to me...
Elizabeth: STAY AWAY FROM US!!!
Nigellus: He belongs...with me, and yet... *the shards began to then slow in their pace, having now become of an oddly unfocused disfunction as he reached with miserably disfigured hands towards the womb of his betrothed. Their movement patterns hardly seemed to convey emotions likened unto the hideous wraith Nigellus had most assuredly become. But this neither concerned nor bothered him, as what had become the lone claw of a beast-like digit made physically manifest pricked her stiff belly, which caused her to scramble to her feet in trying to escape him* That... It cannot be...
[Convey that Nigellus follows after his Elizabeth in a certain, dangerous way]
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
TO ADD:
Nigellus: I...would have him. And yet...he would be in better hands; better spirits... *as his voice took on a rather questioning tone born from animosity* ...under YOUR care?!
Elizabeth: No... *she expressed in her unwilling realization* You're...you're after...
Nigellus: This...body... *he began* It neither condemns me to nor saves me from festering decay yet it moves unfaltering, shifting and seeping through all in its advance. It conspires with the darkness of my mind, the unspoken truths of my heart's every inclination transpiring before my very eyes...
Elizabeth: Spare us... *she cried* Please spare us!
Upon hearing those reiterated words of his beloved, he lifted what had become right and left hands, observing them closely. His form appeared to almost tremble, those hands having fastidiously shifted from the form of pliable, human hands into the bestial likeness of thickly soled nepharim hands, only to become what were then sharply taloned, avian-like claws that successively deteriorated into the hideously malformed hands he had only just bore witness to in the moment prior to his iniquitous realizations...
Nigellus: I...would not lose you... I could not...
He reached out to his beloved with what were then wickedly reptilian hands, lifting a locke of her hair with a single talon as he began to purr in his chest a lilting flutter much like that of a most ancient dragon. He then carefully collected her shivering body within the gentleness of his clutches, curling around her belly a single talon with which to caress their unborn child. Elizabeth trembled, her eyes shut indefinitely as she shuddered miserably, helpless to stop him from enacting whatever he might so choose to do.
Nigellus: The gods have expunged me from their grace, Eliza. They will neither condemn nor save what is left of my broken soul. *he began to then clench his talons down upon her in an angry spite, oblivious to the pressure applied upon her lungs that halted her breathing* No... I cannot leave him... I WON'T let them have him...
Elizabeth: *her eyes gawked open in utter horror, her thoughts only on her son as she shuddered in what little of breath could escape her constricted windpipe...*
Nigellus: They cannot take from me my very own flesh and blood! They will not DEPRIVE me of him! GIVE HIM TO ME!!!
Elizabeth: *her face had gone pale...*
Nigellus: THEY CANNOT TAKE AWAY MY LEGACY!!!
In only the duration in the moment of Nigellus' declarations, his wife's body no longer tugged and trembled in his grasp. At some point that had gone by utterly unnoticed, she had even lost the ability to breathe...
Nigellus: ELIZA!
He then began to shake her limp body in what had quickly become a most cruel indignance, ringing it in his maddening despair...
Nigellus: ...Eliza?
There wouldn't be a single response to be given from her...
Nigellus: Eliza?!
He then placed her upon the ground with hasty caution, shaking her corpse in hopes of recieving some kind; ANY kind of response...
Nigellus: No... *he breathed upon his realization* NO!!!
What were his eyes remained open in a perpetual disbelief.
Nigellus: What have I done...? WHAT HAVE I DONE?! Eliza... Wake up... *as he mildly shook her body* He... He needs you... He needs your nourishment... My Love, please...
He hadn't the capability to shed a single tear...
Nigellus: ...Please wake up. He's not... He's not done yet... He hasn't even started! Wake up... Wake up, I beg of you, WAKE UP!!!
It was then that he came to realize his error...
Nigellus: Dear God, give her BACK to me!
The general idea here isn't sketchy, but the details surrounding it still are. I need to convey the nature of the moment where Misfortune takes his unborn son unto himself. However, I've had many mixed feelings as to just who is the mother of his son.
It will most likely just be Eliza, and not Sharon, his large, wolven slave...
But the smallest exertion of hers could send a man flying; him, and possibly others as well, shattering much of the pride of many an unknowledgeable foe within mere seconds.(link) Something Massive (Unfinished)
(link) The Fetishism of My Works, Displayed For Easy Finding.
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