The Prodigy

Deep within the bowels of the Malevolent Order resides something no one could be so used to, only if they held such a morbid mindset like those that lurked within. Up high upon the cliffs of the swamp lands of Louisiana, there resides an old church. Crumbling walls, and broken windows, such a decadent place to the eyes of evil incarnate. Marsh covers the grounds, but the putrid scents that rise from the bowels, they drive the animals away. The old oak doors are covered in moss, yet when you take the mere chance of entering such a place, you are greeted by something so malevolent and wicked, getting past him is a test. A Wraith stands hovering before the weary, the air chills until ice crystals form upon the very breath that is wrought. His eyes, nothing but blackened sockets that stare into the soul. The stench of necrosis lingers, making hair rise upon end. How do you get past him?

Holy objects do not work, for he stand upon Holy Grounds. He screeches, this terrifying sound alerted those of the Order to a presence among them. When turning to run away, the oaken doors slam shut, and darkness courses over them, and throughout the crumbling church. The fate sealed for those very unlucky to get past such a beast. He stammers towards this poor soul. Yet, he is suddenly repelled back but a deep and somber toned voice. A male's. A hiss escaped the wraith, and the bones beneath the black and tattered robes creak and groan. The Prodigy is here. The darkness at the door, it flees as he breaks away from shadow's caress. The stench of necrosis heavy upon his breath as he chuckles. That poor soul cowers upon the floor, unsure as to if they will even live or die. The Prodigy goes by the name of Korvin Draco Sanguine.

He had dropped to a crouch, the shadows caressed his face. Underneath the veil of the top hat adorning his head, he looks up. Only then does he reveal handsome feature, a finely defined face. His eyes a a serpentine yellow, they held a predatory glow. His smile a serrated grin, and his long priests coat mangled with a straight jacket flowed about him. He looked up to the wraith and smiled wickedly. That soul scared beyond help, cowering and shivering in fear. Korvin ever so pleased by this visitor. Animus groaned in displeasure, and flowed back among the pews and faded into the air that was chilled. Korvin offered his hand out to this soul, smirking as his voice had come to escape from putrid confines.

"Come, let me cure you of your fear... Mother dearest will be so pleased to have a visitor."

That soul felt a sudden relief of fear, and gained an ounce of trust. Placing her hand upon his, this soul had named herself Sydney. She talked more with Korvin as he led her down long corridors never paying any heed. Soon, he had her entranced into believing that there was no harm to befall her here. Yet, this was not the case. There were already malevolent ideas and thoughts dancing upon the corrupt mind of Korvin. Slowly, he lead her down the winding staircase to the basement, into Arzt's territory. He was sure his adopted brother wouldn't mind his use of his vices there. Though, the fear had begun crawling up Syndey's spine again. The stench hit her like a wave. Putrid piss, old blood and the lingering taste of rotten flesh upon the tongue. She looked up to Korvin, his eyes held a predatory glow.

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist, preventing her from escaping the horrors that awaited her. He held a smile, as she remained frozen in fear. Her stomach churned, she wanted to vomit. Korvin had chilled, he was no longer warm an welcoming. By now, he had already got her chained to a steel table. She fought every step of the way, and she even fought in the chains that bound her. He stepped away, placing his hands upon his top hat, and removing it to rest upon the desk. He moved to a steel table that held various scalpels and other instruments of devious natures. A pair of scissors is what he brought over towards her. By now she screamed, and wailed. She was in fer of her life, which held the fate of ending soon. He had moved to a stereo, turning it up full blast to drown out her wails for help. Korvin was not so pleasant when it came to dinner.

He moved his hand over her body, and smiled. She was ever so pleasant. and surely she held treasures inside her body. Sydney began praying and pleading. Korvin only began to hum as the scissor had begun to cut away her clothes, and she was left bare to him. Her skin so olive toned, and without a single blemish save for a birth mark upon her stomach. A single elongated nail drug over this mark, he then looked towards the girl's eyes. He tossed her clothes into a nearby bucket. For she would not be needing them anytime soon. Korvin was going to have his fill soon. He had placed the scissors down, and picked up a finely sharpened scalpel. It left a twinkle in his eye and he moved back over the woman, his hand moved from her throat down to trace over her chest down between the apex of her thighs. Oh, how she was surely to provide a most appetizing meal.

"There is no salvation for you...Your God dare not tread here.." His words sent the girl into tears, how could he be so cruel? Soon he leaned over, and his lips did find hers, in a gruesome and rough kiss. He then allowed his putrid tongue to run up her cheek, he tasted her tears which were filled with regret and fear. Soon, he plunged the scalpel deep into her abdomen, and she screamed and howled in pain. The blade moved to cut downward, the crimson nectar spurted out and ran down her perfect flesh. The scalpel ran through her flesh like a hot knife to butter, he chuckled and found such amusement as her face grew pale and her screams grew louder in howling pain. Korvin erupted into a fit of laughter, the scalpel being set aside. He plunged his hand into the open wound, nails tearing through muscle as he gripped her womb.

A sicken gurgle of blood and flesh tearing filled the basement, he tore her womb from the confines of her body. He eyed it, and smiled. A fine piece for dinner. He leaned against the desk, his serrated teeth tearing through the organ as he feasted. Poor Sydney, she was barely alive, watching him eat her uterus. He plucked her ovaries from the womb, and popped them into his mouth like olives. And with a final slurp, he had finished the organ, and even licked his fingers. Blood coated his face, his hands and jacket. Oh, well. He would just have to wash it off later. But would his mother think? Oh, this was funny. Should his mother catch him now, she would probably tell him not to play with his food. But, he could not help it. Korvin never did listen to his Mother about his food.

His hand plunged back into the stomach's gaping hole, he moved his hand around with, feeling for one particular organ, The Heart. She screamed one final times before leading into bloody gurgles. His nails dug into the caverns in the heart, and he ripped it open through the stomach. This was it for her life. Blood spewed forth from her mouth, her eyes rolled up. Her body convulsed. He shrugged, Arzt could deal with the disposable of her corpse. And in his hand, he held her heart like an apple in the hand of Eve. He tore into it like it was a fruit, tearing chunk after chunk from the muscle that once carried life. After he had finished his meal, he licked his fingers. He poked her side, wanted to make she he had finished her off; for Mother also told him to make sure his messes were cleaned up. He placed a finger to his lips.

"Mummy always told me not to play with my food...but since when did I ever listen?"

Korvin had turned away from the body, and soon found himself climbing up the stairs. His mind wandering off towards Marlowe. How was this, this single creature that plagued his thoughts often, as if she adored stealing his sanity. He smiled as he closed the basement door behind him, although he had grabbed his top hat before leaving. And upon his head, is where it was placed, among the raven tendrils of hair that wavered upon his shoulders. He moved back down the corridors, the music echoing throughout the home. He was upon his merry little way in such of Marlowe. Yet, he wondered if he should go greet his Mother. He chuckled before waving off the thought. Marlowe had become his sanity corrupted beyond what it already was. Malevolent.