Gothikana

by RuNyx

Black. It was the absence of color, the keeper of dark, the abyss of unknowns. It was her hair, her mama’s clothes, the vast sky all around them. She loved black.

He was … magnificent. Beautiful in the way pain was beautiful, because it tugged at the chest and made something visceral come alive in the stomach and caused blood to simmer in the veins. Enchanting in the way she imagined dark magic was, because it twisted the air around it and warped the mind and overpowered the senses. Haunting in the way only very few living things could be, because it sent a shiver down the spine and cloaked itself in the darkness and fed on the energy around them.

Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either. —Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla