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05-26-2016, 06:29 PM
My vengeance will come
Eyes of honey glare into the depths of this world, this wicked place that she had sought down for years. Helovia, it was called, but everything else was of little knowledge to the gazelle. She would find those who killed her parents, who took everything away from her, there was revenge to be served and mercy to be thrown away. Imara had become the result of years of hatred, years of disgust for those who had rebelled against her and her cause. She has risen from the ash of death, the reaper did not steal her soul, did not carry her away with his fleshless face and grim smile, no, Imara had faced even death and won.
So she had come here, her hips swinging and her nostrils bringing in the all of this world, analyzing and memorizing, this air that was tainted with a bloodlust like no other. Imara was a smart woman, she would play her part, be the conartist that she was, and she would strike not out of haste, but out of calculated force. Do your worst, Helovia.
A single ear twisted, listening for the crack of sticks, of the arrival of another. She wore her necklace of hyena teeth with great pride, the sly animal her second soul. The hyena was a pest, their laughter in the night annoyed most, but to Imara it was a cry of her people, a song that she enjoyed the haunting melody of. With ears twisting to every sound, her steps swinging with her prides and powers, she waited, her mind drumming to the beat of the hyena.
And so it began.
Imara
