of reincarnation, sanctity, and silence
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“So,” she accusingly replied, a grimace splitting across her visage, “you’re one of those vicious pirates who disregard other people’s feelings, huh.”
“No.” He devours the scarce food left on his plate, barbeque sauce dripping from his fingers as he directs a blinding smile at her disgruntled expression. “I’m a different kind of pirate.”
Perhaps the prickling sensation traveling down her neck, flaring up at the edge of her “mark,” shares feelings of discouraging hope at his words. However, Seraphina doesn’t wish to believe the truth baring their fangs at her. “Yeah, like I’d ever believe a lie like that.”
Seraphina didn't want to live, but she'd rather succumb to a boring life than a risky one like her siblings where adrenaline outplayed their rationality. It wasn’t unexpected that she wasn’t granted eternal seclusion even in death. Reincarnation, hadn’t been on her afterlife Wishlist.
Not when the scent of burning flesh was accompanied by gut-wrenching screams, as scarlet red welting flesh marks branded their backs, stirring up the disguised rage consuming her being. Really, they should’ve known, she’s a “dog,” who bites the hand that feeds her.
( ON HAITUS )
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- Part 1 of of reincarnation, sanctity, and silence