The much-awaited Issue #2 of Paranormal Community's NECROCITY TIMES MAGAZINE in association with @ParanormalLovers exclusively for this Valentine's season!
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As the iron door of his cell slammed shut, Fredrik was left alone in darkness with only his own thoughts for company. He couldn't bring himself to believe that the eighty-thousand arms of the WPRS were open and waiting for him to embrace them in return. With his creative hands in chains, he couldn't even hold himself.
He thought this time would be different somehow... That he'd find the answers he'd sought since his curse began, especially with Joseph's once-brilliant mind for help. He'd been so sure something would begin making sense. But he should have known better than to surround himself amongst larger and yet larger crowds -- harder to hide, harder to keep himself away from them -- when it was only a matter of time before something like this would surface. It was an inescapable pattern that had always been part of life, spiralling ever larger, consuming out of control. He could not build himself something greater if it meant he would only ruin it harder, especially with what he had let himself do to Joseph, he could never risk making friends again, let alone actually falling in love.
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A mote of dust floated in the single moonbeam through the high window of his prison. Even this small reprieve from the darkness he refused, preferring instead to keep his eyes cast down and shut tight. Hot tears streaked down his muddied cheeks, but even those were stained as black as ink as his thoughts stitched themselves into his skin. When they struck the cold, hard dirt, their power fizzled out with a sickening hiss. Iron shavings mixed into the floor. On this dead ground, not even his power could make things grow.
He didn't see the twinkling light in the tiny star that drifted towards him. It grew in size and intensity, taking on the form of a being of rainbow colored light.
It was not until she was fully manifest did the brilliance of her aura draw him from his woe long enough for him to open his eyes. He scuttled backwards across the floor at the sight her as far as the chains would let him -- not only had he thought he was to be alone for an indefinite span, but he'd long been unaccustomed to the naked form of a woman.
The curvy figure ignored him at first and retrieved the black cloak discarded at the corner of his cell. She draped it around her shoulders and her form solidified into deathly pale skin with a prismatic sheen.
