Demons of the Mind
folder
1 through F › Criminal Minds
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,944
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Criminal Minds
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,944
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Criminal Minds, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Nymphetamine Huntress
Chapter One
Nymphetamine Huntress
Evanescent like the scent of decay
I was fading from the race
When in despair, my darkest days
Ran amok and forged his face
-----------------------------------------------------
He was near. She could smell him. It was a sweet, heartwarming scent: Old Spice aftershave, water, chalk dust, ink, the old smell of books, the sweet smell of roses. At first, it was only in her mind, pulling her towards her prey. Now that scent was merely a sweet brush against the inside of her nostrils, but the further along she went, the stronger the smell would become. And Razielle desperately wanted to find the source of that smell. Find him… she had hunted for him for so long. Why had it been so hard to find him? Months, to find a man who wasn’t even trying to hide. Months, to find the FBI agent her master wanted dead.
Maybe she was getting old. Old and tired. She felt like mist, grey and evanescent, but this mist inside of her tasted of death, stank of decay. Not the decay of flesh into rotting meat like rancid beef, but the decay of what lay inside: the ever questing shadow of her Eternal Sigh, her deepest self, rotting like poisonous gas inside her. Maybe that was why it had taken so long, this venom in her soul. She had never felt so torn and tired, bruised, uncertain. The entire length of the hunt, she had longed to bring him down after this long, sweet chase, but at the same time… at the same time her pulse quickened with almost exquisite terror at the thought of killing him. This mark frightened her, but that inexplicable fear infuriated her and stirred the longing in her for a more violent chase and take down, the wind in her face, blowing her dark brown hair around her and the stars mirrored in her emerald cat eyes. with flesh torn beneath her nails and blood splattering her skin and soaking her clothes. That kind of chase, through concrete jungles of glass and metal and stone, out into the wilds, tracking her prey by the scent of his blood….
But even with that stirring to take down this mark, this FBI agent that Dragon wanted tormented, dead, and buried six feet deep, she felt so faded and worn, like the world just before a sun goes nova. These were such dark days for her, because the matching Sigh that was meant to touch and breathe with hers, the absence of that matching Eternal Sigh, that eternal life breath, created a vicious pang in her chest that echoed in the emptiness of herself. Murder sang in that emptiness, the thrill of the hunt and the taste of fear rolling off of that which she hunted, the marks. Darkness and despair threatened to swamp her. Only the violence of her kills beat the antagonizing shadows from her. Maybe this kill would banish them all. This angel’s blood, maybe it would cut the bonds of eternity’s burden from her.
Reaching into the pocket of her tight, black jeans, she pulled out the photograph of her mark. Dark hair, like dirty pale gold, almost flipping over one eye; eyes like dark, varnished wood, but full of haunting shadows and pain; flesh so pale as to be almost translucent, like a thin sheet of alabaster over muscle and bone. And at his back, if she looked at the photograph out of the corner of her eyes, a pair of tattered white wings unfurled to show matted blood, loose pinion feathers, dirt and grunge.
Her heart ached for those wings, battered and bruised as she was, but she walled her heart off with blocks of ice and focused her attention on the task that Dragon set her: kill her mark. Kill the man in the photo. Kill Spencer Reid.
-----------------------------------------
Well, that's the first chapter. What do you think?
Please feel free to leave a comment!
Anything at all: If you noticed a typo, if you don't like a characterization or description, if you thought a line especially funny or poignant or interesting, if there was anything you particularly enjoyed … I am really interested in what my readers think about my writing.
You can leave a public comment (signed or anonymous), though if you want me to respond to it, signed is best, OR send me a private message, though I do prefer comments and reviews.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Disclaimers: I do not own Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds, or anything else you recognize EXCEPT: Razielle, the female lead. The name Razielle is the name of the Angel of Death and Secret Knowledge in certain Judaic traditions, but it's spelled Raziel. I figured Razielle with the extra -le read off as more feminine, since the original Raziel is a dude.
Copyright Notice: The lyrics "Evanescent like the scent of decay, I was fading from the race, When in despair, my darkest days Ran amok and forged her face" is the property of one of my favorite bands, Cradle of Filth. It is the first 4 lines from the song Nymphetamine Overdose (not to be confused with Nymphetamine Fix), which is track 6 on their 2nd to latest album, Nymphetamine. I own it, it's freakin' incredible and I love it. Woot, woot! I got it for my birthday. That's going to be a recurring format: a piece of a song, or even a whole song, depending on the length of the chapter, interspersed with the main text. And the original line is "before HER face," not "his face," but I changed it just for this part because Reid is a dude.
Nymphetamine Huntress
Evanescent like the scent of decay
I was fading from the race
When in despair, my darkest days
Ran amok and forged his face
-----------------------------------------------------
He was near. She could smell him. It was a sweet, heartwarming scent: Old Spice aftershave, water, chalk dust, ink, the old smell of books, the sweet smell of roses. At first, it was only in her mind, pulling her towards her prey. Now that scent was merely a sweet brush against the inside of her nostrils, but the further along she went, the stronger the smell would become. And Razielle desperately wanted to find the source of that smell. Find him… she had hunted for him for so long. Why had it been so hard to find him? Months, to find a man who wasn’t even trying to hide. Months, to find the FBI agent her master wanted dead.
Maybe she was getting old. Old and tired. She felt like mist, grey and evanescent, but this mist inside of her tasted of death, stank of decay. Not the decay of flesh into rotting meat like rancid beef, but the decay of what lay inside: the ever questing shadow of her Eternal Sigh, her deepest self, rotting like poisonous gas inside her. Maybe that was why it had taken so long, this venom in her soul. She had never felt so torn and tired, bruised, uncertain. The entire length of the hunt, she had longed to bring him down after this long, sweet chase, but at the same time… at the same time her pulse quickened with almost exquisite terror at the thought of killing him. This mark frightened her, but that inexplicable fear infuriated her and stirred the longing in her for a more violent chase and take down, the wind in her face, blowing her dark brown hair around her and the stars mirrored in her emerald cat eyes. with flesh torn beneath her nails and blood splattering her skin and soaking her clothes. That kind of chase, through concrete jungles of glass and metal and stone, out into the wilds, tracking her prey by the scent of his blood….
But even with that stirring to take down this mark, this FBI agent that Dragon wanted tormented, dead, and buried six feet deep, she felt so faded and worn, like the world just before a sun goes nova. These were such dark days for her, because the matching Sigh that was meant to touch and breathe with hers, the absence of that matching Eternal Sigh, that eternal life breath, created a vicious pang in her chest that echoed in the emptiness of herself. Murder sang in that emptiness, the thrill of the hunt and the taste of fear rolling off of that which she hunted, the marks. Darkness and despair threatened to swamp her. Only the violence of her kills beat the antagonizing shadows from her. Maybe this kill would banish them all. This angel’s blood, maybe it would cut the bonds of eternity’s burden from her.
Reaching into the pocket of her tight, black jeans, she pulled out the photograph of her mark. Dark hair, like dirty pale gold, almost flipping over one eye; eyes like dark, varnished wood, but full of haunting shadows and pain; flesh so pale as to be almost translucent, like a thin sheet of alabaster over muscle and bone. And at his back, if she looked at the photograph out of the corner of her eyes, a pair of tattered white wings unfurled to show matted blood, loose pinion feathers, dirt and grunge.
Her heart ached for those wings, battered and bruised as she was, but she walled her heart off with blocks of ice and focused her attention on the task that Dragon set her: kill her mark. Kill the man in the photo. Kill Spencer Reid.
-----------------------------------------
Well, that's the first chapter. What do you think?
Please feel free to leave a comment!
Anything at all: If you noticed a typo, if you don't like a characterization or description, if you thought a line especially funny or poignant or interesting, if there was anything you particularly enjoyed … I am really interested in what my readers think about my writing.
You can leave a public comment (signed or anonymous), though if you want me to respond to it, signed is best, OR send me a private message, though I do prefer comments and reviews.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Disclaimers: I do not own Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds, or anything else you recognize EXCEPT: Razielle, the female lead. The name Razielle is the name of the Angel of Death and Secret Knowledge in certain Judaic traditions, but it's spelled Raziel. I figured Razielle with the extra -le read off as more feminine, since the original Raziel is a dude.
Copyright Notice: The lyrics "Evanescent like the scent of decay, I was fading from the race, When in despair, my darkest days Ran amok and forged her face" is the property of one of my favorite bands, Cradle of Filth. It is the first 4 lines from the song Nymphetamine Overdose (not to be confused with Nymphetamine Fix), which is track 6 on their 2nd to latest album, Nymphetamine. I own it, it's freakin' incredible and I love it. Woot, woot! I got it for my birthday. That's going to be a recurring format: a piece of a song, or even a whole song, depending on the length of the chapter, interspersed with the main text. And the original line is "before HER face," not "his face," but I changed it just for this part because Reid is a dude.