Darth Eversor
Burning Forever
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vh93av23k8
From the darkness of space, an act most unspeakable taints the stars. The shimmering white and wondrous now dull and speckled with crimson, left to die like a bulb flickering in a vast ocean of inky twilight. The innocence of the lost has been taken, their wounds now fresh and forever to be remembered as a memento of the horror they endured. No praise of heroes, no strides of companions to be at their side, only horror shall beset them. A visage to never be faded or erased by time or willpower. The mark of the damned, the gospel of the wretched. A beast's tongue flails with satisfaction.
- THE SACRIFICE -
"Please... let us go. You have my word, we won't expose you! I know you're hurt and afraid, but you can be helped! There's still a way!" The Jedi was confident in her ability to lull the abomination away from his murderous obsession, trying to sway his mind to do the opposite of a blood-drenched marauder of desecration.
"Pitiful..."
Abraxas towered over the woman, staring down at her.
"There's a way? Certainly. But I don't think you'll appreciate what I'm going to do next. This way you speak of, what if I told you there was a way for you as well, youngling."
Her glossy eyes met the creature's and they locked briefly. Tears streamed down her face as a million thoughts ran through her mind. What did he mean there was a way for her? What was he going to do? More and more suspicions and terrors spawned within the Jedi's mind - her figure stiffened to the likeness of stone, eyes locked on nothingness.
"...I own you..."
She began to scream and convulse violently, her mind being intruded and manipulated by pain and memories. Abraxas was using her own conscious against her, causing tremors of pain to set fire to her nerves. Hell is what he was putting her through; a testament to the mercilessness, the foul, the strong. As soon as the captive's eyes rolled to the back of her head, Abraxas stopped. Her figure hung limply from the chains that bound her, the place the abomination imprisoned them in was in decay, abandoned and lifeless. There was no hopeful incandescence to shine through a window as cliches might have one believe, this was the painful truth. Death goes unsolicited commonly among the galaxy, and no one would hear their pleas.
Abraxas turned and walked slowly towards an unconscious Jedi combatant, picking him up by his vestments and pulling him up to eye-level with his visor.
"...Awaken..."
A surge of nightmares and grotesque imagery jolted the man into consciousness, he placed his hands around the massive arm of the Sith and struggled, flailing and trying to pull free from his inevitable fate. There was no refuge or rest for the atrocity that desired flesh and death. Purity and divinity must be spread, the moniker of Vornskr would be worshiped by all and a knee bent to show undying loyalty. Digging his gauntlet into the Jedi's chest, Abraxas growled out of satisfaction. He pulled the man closer towards his maw and gaze, blackened saliva oozed from the mouth of the abomination's helmet. The sound of struggle and pain only made this that much more enjoyable for the darkly clad embodiment of the Dark Side.
There was no savior to come.
Only tears and crimson.
A hellish wail came from Abraxas as he began to quite literally vomit an excess of coagulated blood and toxic combat stimulant build-up. The Jedi began to scream wildly, crying and begging for anything to put an end to his demise, the substance entering his mouth and eyes. Muffled and gurgled cries complained of burning as the vile concoction ate through his flesh and body. The arms that once strained for freedom now unresponsive and dead. The woman brain-dead and left to rot in bonds.
It was done.
"...You are not forgotten, there was no need to fight. I will keep your memories..."
Abraxas looked outward and set his gaze to the galaxy. His ember eyes burned through the darkness with malice and hunger. So many heartbeats to listen for, voices to fill the air. The Butcher King's genetic duplicate adored life simply to take it. He wanted to feel their silence, their absence.
Blackened substance still dripped from the sharpened teeth of the slayer's helmet, salivating still like a starving beast.
He left them there. Their bodies broken and defiled.
No one would find them.