eruditus
11-12-2003, 01:09 PM
Here is a new entry from the person that plays Sihera, post impalement by one infamous doctor.
The Hunt Begins...Anew
The first time she has the freedom to speak as Sihera, and all that issues forth is gurgles, as her own lifeblood bubbles from her mangled jaw. Wracked with pain--the pain of knowing she is perhaps beyond salvation, the pain of knowing that the demon within her might not die with her, the pain of knowing the guilt her friends will surely carry with them after she is gone--Sihera tries one final gesture. The words "Help me. It's me, Sihera" fill her mind, but the pain is too great, and the message from her head never reaches her fingertips, as a friend tries to remove the sword that's pinning her to the earth.
The sword that severs her spinal cord also servers her connection to the physical world. Free from pain, free from influence, Sihera embraces the Spirit World. Her spirit floats out of her body and hangs in the air above the grisly scene. Sihera watches as the demon's claws issue forth from what was her chest, ripping bone and searing flesh. As her body burns and chars in the demon's attempt to flee from its own bondage, Sihera's first instinct is to try and warn her friends. But, in her Spirit Form, she cannot speak to her companions, who stand frozen, stunned by the spectacle. Without physical form, she cannot give chase as she watches the demon flee what remains of her mortal coil. The demon, now liberated and able unleash its infernal influence on another unsuspecting innocent, turns, and sensing Sihera's spiritual presence, sneers in her direction disdainfully.
If only she could track the demon down, stalk it as tries to fill the world with even more chaos, and hunt down those of its ilk who will certainly torment other, innocent souls. Track it, stalk it, and hunt it like her faithful wolf companion, Scraps, could do.
But, to no avail. Sihera, awash with sadness at the failure of her spirit to help, can only watch as the demon turns and strolls away, the smouldering ashes of Sihera's body trailing behind the demon as if trying one last, albeit feeble, attempt to pursue the beast.
Sihera's sadness turns to fury as she senses the spiritual tug on her soul, drawing her farther towards its embrace. The fury intensifies and compounds as the tugging increases, but the fury seems alien to Sihera, somehow animalistic but definitely directed towards the demon. The tugging becomes too powerful and Sihera's soul melds with the source of the fury. Sihera is comforted by the fact that whatever faces her in the afterlife also views the demon as anathema.
A deluge of sights, smells, and sensory inputs, foreign to her, flooded her consciousness as she completed the shift to the Spirit World--not at all what she had experienced on her Visionquest with the Firewater the tribe had given her. She could smell her own burnt flesh, see her friends begin to despair, feel the urge to spring onto the demon's back and rip its throat to shreds. It was all so visceral, primal, animal-like. Sihera saw Trill realize that she was still holding the instrument of Sihera's death in her hands. Resolutely wiping the tears from her eyes, Trill walked away from the bloodbath and flung the Troll weapon into the deep of the forest.
Compelled by a force she did not understand, Sihera found herself sprinting towards the sword, then glancing down at the weapon. She heard Scraps yelp in fear at the sight and closeness of the weapon, but it was her own fear at seeing the weapon that stole her life away that she was hearing.
Then she understood. Then she knew what had happened to her after leaving her body. Then she realized that the hunt for the demon that stole her life and would surely steal the lives of others could continue anew, in the body of her beloved friend and companion.
And as a wolf able to see into the Spirit World, tracking the demon's stench would be that much easier. And, once she found the beast, her revenge would be that much more...savory.
The Hunt Begins...Anew
The first time she has the freedom to speak as Sihera, and all that issues forth is gurgles, as her own lifeblood bubbles from her mangled jaw. Wracked with pain--the pain of knowing she is perhaps beyond salvation, the pain of knowing that the demon within her might not die with her, the pain of knowing the guilt her friends will surely carry with them after she is gone--Sihera tries one final gesture. The words "Help me. It's me, Sihera" fill her mind, but the pain is too great, and the message from her head never reaches her fingertips, as a friend tries to remove the sword that's pinning her to the earth.
The sword that severs her spinal cord also servers her connection to the physical world. Free from pain, free from influence, Sihera embraces the Spirit World. Her spirit floats out of her body and hangs in the air above the grisly scene. Sihera watches as the demon's claws issue forth from what was her chest, ripping bone and searing flesh. As her body burns and chars in the demon's attempt to flee from its own bondage, Sihera's first instinct is to try and warn her friends. But, in her Spirit Form, she cannot speak to her companions, who stand frozen, stunned by the spectacle. Without physical form, she cannot give chase as she watches the demon flee what remains of her mortal coil. The demon, now liberated and able unleash its infernal influence on another unsuspecting innocent, turns, and sensing Sihera's spiritual presence, sneers in her direction disdainfully.
If only she could track the demon down, stalk it as tries to fill the world with even more chaos, and hunt down those of its ilk who will certainly torment other, innocent souls. Track it, stalk it, and hunt it like her faithful wolf companion, Scraps, could do.
But, to no avail. Sihera, awash with sadness at the failure of her spirit to help, can only watch as the demon turns and strolls away, the smouldering ashes of Sihera's body trailing behind the demon as if trying one last, albeit feeble, attempt to pursue the beast.
Sihera's sadness turns to fury as she senses the spiritual tug on her soul, drawing her farther towards its embrace. The fury intensifies and compounds as the tugging increases, but the fury seems alien to Sihera, somehow animalistic but definitely directed towards the demon. The tugging becomes too powerful and Sihera's soul melds with the source of the fury. Sihera is comforted by the fact that whatever faces her in the afterlife also views the demon as anathema.
A deluge of sights, smells, and sensory inputs, foreign to her, flooded her consciousness as she completed the shift to the Spirit World--not at all what she had experienced on her Visionquest with the Firewater the tribe had given her. She could smell her own burnt flesh, see her friends begin to despair, feel the urge to spring onto the demon's back and rip its throat to shreds. It was all so visceral, primal, animal-like. Sihera saw Trill realize that she was still holding the instrument of Sihera's death in her hands. Resolutely wiping the tears from her eyes, Trill walked away from the bloodbath and flung the Troll weapon into the deep of the forest.
Compelled by a force she did not understand, Sihera found herself sprinting towards the sword, then glancing down at the weapon. She heard Scraps yelp in fear at the sight and closeness of the weapon, but it was her own fear at seeing the weapon that stole her life away that she was hearing.
Then she understood. Then she knew what had happened to her after leaving her body. Then she realized that the hunt for the demon that stole her life and would surely steal the lives of others could continue anew, in the body of her beloved friend and companion.
And as a wolf able to see into the Spirit World, tracking the demon's stench would be that much easier. And, once she found the beast, her revenge would be that much more...savory.