Denenthorn has asked me to perform an act of violence against him. His is willfully going to allow my hands, my skill to slice his skin and press ink within those cuts, more like punter wounds. He wishes of me a traditional Maori design ... I know what I have in mind and I have studied his body so intricately in the last three years that I will be able to map it out in perfect precision.
I have the materials on hand, stashed along with my other art supplies working he walls of the asylum on the third floor of the hospital. All the is left is for my canvas to arrive with me.
He is displeased with the place, I in turn confess my regrets to him but cannot help the feeling for the need of utter privacy. No one comes here anymore for the same reasons I never had visitors when I stayed her some 160 years ago. It is a dreadful place, filled with lonesomeness, abandonment, and the screams if boredom.
Denenthorn lays down, stripped if his clothing. His form is immaculate as always. I must admit that the humanesque form is rather disgusting in most cases. I feel the need to make changes in most, but little can be changed on his form, at least physically.
Let me trail off a while as these acts... These thoughts might seem a bit odd for me. It has been too long since I have written anything. Since Michon left this world, assuming to the next, he was captured by Spectre. His soul us in the fatal grasp of a demon and I have been restless. I have hardly slept, hardly been able to concentrate on more than what is at hand for near a year. I had been forced to self preservation by Michon, he had to die if I were to continue, I could only hope that he would be delivered into the rift hands so that I may meet with him later. Since his capture I have been in dealings with Selk'Tar'Oth and admittedly it does not always show my best side but to be stronger I had to reclaim a portion of my destiny, at least for a while. Selk'Tar'Oth and I have merged to one, as we were when I was still alive. She is no longer just pulling the strings as Yaweh would, she and I are working like a well oiled machine.
As I had reclaimed the memories of my mortal life, tue reasons and motivations for how and why I do things became clear. Selk is one with order in chaos. She approved of my vision in perfection long ago. When the nightmares made sense is when I knew she was with me.
Now that we are together I can look at the wretched fools for a higher purpose. Too long have I stood on this plane and been abused. Too long I have sat and watched as rape, humiliation, torture and murder have commenced with hardly a reason to it. These beings, bound to this existence have no use within them save to power the machine of
my own creation.
There remain, a mere handful of creatures I have taken fondness to. These being I will kill personally, mercifully, before my design is set into place. They will go where they meant but Toxia will be the first to be claimed.
Denny being one of these people, he lay before me just as his god had created him. I doubly check my measurements in my head before I start. The design is already upon him, merely have to strike it into existence for him to see it too.
The work was meticulous, the conversation idle. Strike after strike to his body was like one upon my own. I watched him bleed and waited to clean it away, the final work was to be a surprise. When I came to his shoulders, working from the bottom up, Selk spoke to me. I nearly missed my mark as she reminded me what was to come next. It was to be Denenthorn's face.
Immediately the face of that boy was in my mind. The fact I had fixed his features, in the act killing him unknowingly. He was staring at me, just as he did when my father yanked me away. Sell whispered, "The time is now, you are too evenly matched and he bows to you."
My rhythm hesitated, Denenthorn noticed. I had hit too hard and he yelled at me. The time wasn't right. There is a ways more yet to go. I stopped. I told him I was finished and struggled hard against my wing to keep it down.
He dressed, seemed upset, and left. I stayed a while and cleaned up my tools, all the while arguing with Selk.
I wasn't finished. Selk and I came to the agreement that the design must be completed or she would leave me again. I had to make Denenthorn happy, I bad to free him before I would have to kill him. I had to show him what has happened inside my head so that he would understand, maybe even find a way to save me.