Burning, heat rising to touch her body and caress the altered state she resides within. They flicker before her, dancing with their arms raised to feel the warmth in the night. What was once beautiful blue eyes that would make a mother proud to know she birthed a child with those precious colours, now have become a royal blue with their gray flecks now black streaks tainting beauty. Mothers turn in the graves, a thought keeping their restless bones awake in their external slumber.
Who would ruin such good looks and turn it into a monster?
Her mind that is known as Sikeax is gone, confused and lost the dawn she went to find her friend in the Marsh. All but gone now after a low branch and blind panic landed her in the silver sheen waters. The living dead came over to meet her, having seen her burst through their home and curious as of who she was.
She came back up as a monster with a nasty headache.
Laced blood and thin threads of skin, her ribs are out to the world over her heart. It's beating and anyone can see it beating it. Dark grey bones protect it from the world, the rest of her body a state of horror. Her horn now glows pale, the same shade of the full moon overhead. Pieces of it become see-through, giving an idea as of What lays inside a horn.
They continue to attempt to lure her body into a burning demise where the dead's remains become ashes. Her head lowers into it, her face too close to the edge now. A smile creeps across her face, enlightening her features of decay in delight. She'd thrown something in there earlier, but doesn't care much to What was lost in there. The black dust that rolls around her hooves eases a finger up a pale cannon bone, running It's gasp over her. She steps back and almost hits her head in the process.
"Don't rush me. I am different and yet while they laugh to me, at my change in appearance and monster state, it is they who doesn't see that I am much better than they."
A bust of flames rises from the pit and attempts to take her loosely curled locks to itself. They're gone before it can touch it her.
It does no good that she believes in the world is trying to take her out of her rightful placement. She stepped out of what was meant to be her grave, and took steps towards becoming the right thing. She is what she is meant to be all along.
Her mind has tricked her damn well and she's not free just yet. It's a long shot and now isn't risking taking time yet.
A thin voice, weak and ripe with the rattling of the undead's bones, slips through her head with help of the disease plaguing her and the rest that rose from the darkness.
Monster child, tonight is a good night to die, tonight is not your time to die though. Infect and spread , let the world feel the glory that you now bask in. Let them feel the youth I have graciously offered you.
This time, her dust black as the shadows that fog her brain rises to her nostrils.
She inhales, taking her scent of demonic changes and hears the world whisper to her. Crazy and unaware now, blood and bones with barely much of her original skin, she returns their calls for her.
"I am here. I am the monster you fret, the one with teeth of razor blades and lacking skin. I am here for you, come let me see your body. Your breath is the winter winds of the Steppe, your whispers all around me when I move. Come play with me and my friends. We're all dead, but don't mind us."
There is no way for her mind to set the living from the dead. The dead that were alive came to touch her, to see what she was. In the final end of a sweet child that had only good intentions, her body was drug to the earth and unknown.
Her call carries across the winds now, blowing heavy and taking all the scents with it. What can only make her more eerie that she sings her siren's song, falling about with a gentle voice that comes with the youthfulness her body is.
By this time, you're scared and there's no resistance to her. Creatures scurry towards her, wanting more of her. Their small eyes stare at her and watch with curiosity and terror that comes when you know the criminally insane has got you chained to the wall with hooks to pierce your skin, knowing you're not leaving the room you're in alive. You hear the sounds of him speak, but horrifying now, its the girl calling once more.
This go around, the lyrics escaping her lips are a lullaby from an insane mother caring for her child. The mother wants her precious babe to rest easily, to hush it's wails so that the monsters around can't find them.
"Please come here. We don't want to have to find you now."
Yet while it's only her standing by the edge of the fire pit, glowing in light of hot flames and moonlight, her horn shattered and putting out ghost light, you don't want to know who the others she speaks of are.
It's best you run, but some can't help curiosity.

OOC: Please read this before replying.
I have been given permission to powerplay by the Official account along with the other Wraiths. I will use this, but only to a minority for the other player to have a chance at control.
The PM I received earlier stated "No killing, but injury is a must." If I attack you, please be aware that you will receive injury, but you will be in control as the damage and exact location as long as it goes with my said attack and how it is performed.
I have full intentions as of letting the others in this thread have a chance to control their full injury.
If you are infected or not in the end is controlled by the RE account, not me or you.

If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?