Appearances By: Darkstar, Demonica
Mentioned: Darkstar


In The Wake Of Destruction
There Is Nothing But My Serenity


So here I am, another place. Another place to destroy. Welcome to the world of the Mistress of Darkness. (That’s me.) Alongside my companion slash manager, Demonica, I find it easier and easier to get into trouble. Sure, we’ve been trying to be good, but it’s really to no use. So we’ve given up and just decided to be quote-unquote ‘bad asses’. Why bother pretending to be something you’re not? Exactly. It is pointless.

Alaska was beautiful. As far as I had been concerned before now, Alaska was fifteen feet of snow with Eskimos and dog sleds. Hey, leave my ignorance alone.

I sat in Demonica’s place. Well, really, it was Demonica’s and Darkstar’s. But hell, Darkstar was being a big faggot with his new girlfriend, Villana or some shit. Yeah, I didn’t like her. Too prissy for my liking. And I don’t like prissy.

My naked toes curled into the carpet, the black nail polish glittering in the dim light of the television screen. My black jeans, that were probably about four sizes too large, hung loosely around my hips and baggy over my feet. My stomach was exposed, my torso only held with a piece of sheered fabric that was lime green and covering my full breasts and tied around the back of my neck. This left very little to the imagination, including the black, Celtic tattoo that covered all the natural curves and such of my frame, the three rings in my belly button, and the outlines of the barbells through my nipples. A cigarette smouldered lightly between my index and middle fingers, the ashtray laying on my thigh. I was lounging back in the sofa, half asleep.

There was a slight bump on the ceiling above us, which forced me to frown up at it. It was Darkstar and his bleedin’ girlfriend again. My nose wrinkled with disgust. I leaned forward and put the ashtray on the coffee table, butting out my cigarette. I glanced over at Demonica, brow furrowed, facial piercings glittering.

“Do they ever stop?” I asked, my voice filled with disdain. Demonica looked to be just about as impressed as myself. She looked stunning in her black dress, and it occurred to me for the first time that this was the first time I’d seen her in a dress, other than at our trial. My gaze lingered on her somewhat showy knickers, but I soon moved back to her face, where those razor blades looked to cut her skin though I knew she was all right. I always toyed with the idea of taking one of her braids and seeing how just how sharp those blades must have been.

“It was quiet here for a really long time, till the end of last week.” She shrugged her slender shoulders a little bit. “Who cares? We have the real DS back at least.” She sank further into the sofa beside me as I grasped for my can of no-name brand cola-type beverage. The mansion didn’t exactly have thin walls and floors, but he must have broken something big if it made that dense of a sound on the floor. I sighed a bit as a took a swallow from my soda.

“And thank fuck for that. I swear, he was gettin’ on my nerves with his uppity, coloured-clothes, no boarded-up windows crap.” I retorted faintly, combing my fingers through my hair. My hair was long enough, down to the small of my back by now, naturally black with violet bands.

“Why do you think I moved out of his mansion for awhile?” She asked. I sighed and nodded, remember how, after we quit N.E.W., how we stayed at her place in Indiana for a while. I didn’t stay long. I had had to return home to Troyes for the reading of my father’s last will and testament. Demonica gets to her feet and moves over to me. She had a strange expression on her face that I barely recognized. I’d seen it before, but never had it directed at me.

“We have slightly discussed it before. Still is it what you really want my friend?” She asked me. I looked up at her, pursing my pierced lips together faintly. I watched her lick the wound across the top of her hand, eyes softening at the look of her crimson blood on her pale skin. She never lost that look. “Do you want to be reborn?” A little smile caressed my lips as I put my soda can down, tilting my head to the side faintly.

“Oui, chéri, oui. Just tell me what to do.” I said softly, gazing up at her still. Her emerald eyes faded faintly, loosing their glitter, replaced by something unholy and strangely attractive.

“Death smiles upon you, Gwenivere.” She said. Her voice sounded almost hollow, as if she was ancient and a mere shell of her former self. Her hand extended towards me. My instincts took over without permission as my hand slipped into hers, my fingers wrapping around her palm.

“Lead the way, Lady Death.” I replied, quietly. I didn’t know what else to say. For once, I was at a loss for words. Demonica led me down the hallway. She stopped, and I didn’t have to ask why. The area was one of the places that Darkstar had not boarded up after he went on a tangent and ripped all the boards down. She only paused for a second before tugging me along and into another room. It was dark, and it took a few seconds for my sapphire eyes to adjust enough to see where I was going, or at least, make sure I didn’t fall over anything. At Demonica’s request, I sat down and lay back, folding my hands over my stomach. I winced a little bit as the candle was lit, illuminating Demonica’s face. I watch as she knelt beside me, staring silently at me. Her gaze was chilly, to the point where it sent chills down my spine. She didn’t look or feel like the same Demmy… and that made me a tad nervous.

“For this to work you will have to trust me with not only your life, but with your death. Do you trust me fully?” She asked me, her voice icy and serious. I looked up at her from the floor, weaving my fingers together a little bit. A little smile crept across my lips as I gazed deeply into her eyes.

“You know I do, chéri.” I replied quietly, tilting my chin upwards a little bit. Demmy nodded faintly.

“Then close your eyes Gwenivere Jordan.” I nodded, biting my bottom lip gently. My eyes fell shut as I lay there, waiting. My entire body tingled with anticipation of what was to come. It was to the point where I wasn’t sure if I was scared or happy that I was taking this step. My fingers wove together tightly, black fingernails digging into the tops of my hands. As I lay there, it was quiet. There was nothing but the sound of my breathing. And then, suddenly, I become aware of them. My eyes went wide as I felt and saw Demonica’s hands around my throat. A small noise escaped my lips before I relaxed into her grip, my eyes falling shut as I waited for ‘it’ to come. I couldn’t breath. My lungs began to burn as my eyes watered.

"That's good, relax my dear. Descend into the emptiness." I heard her say, though her voice was dull and distant, as if she were speaking through a tin can. I could feel the bruises on my neck begin to develop, but I could have not cared less. Then I was gone. I floated. I felt myself feel light as a feather, but still attached to my body. It was all dark, and as thick as mud.

I sucked in a deep breath, eyes going wide. I rolled onto my side and coughed, my body shaking a little bit. My fingers curled into a tight fist as I pressed them against my mouth, hacking into them. I curled up in a little ball on the satin sheet beside Demonica. I managed to calm my breathing, mouth still pressed against my fingers.

"Welcome to Earth. Welcome to freedom." She said. I looked up at her, my eyes still watering from the whole death experience. A little, sadistic smile played across my lips as I leaned up and rested my cheek against her leg, curling up a bit more. I felt her fingers gliding lightly through my hair. Listlessly, my arm slid around her waist, holding onto her as if she were my root to reality. Her voice had changed, just slightly, but enough for me to notice.

“It is done. Who are you now?” She asked. It was an odd question to someone who didn’t understand. I understood. I had not taken much time to look through the name dictionary or anything. But in that one brief second of her question, I knew what I was. I knew who I was.

“Aphrodisia…” I whispered though my voice was a little breathy still. Slowly, I pushed myself up, hugging my knees to my chest. My hand lifted to rub my neck, feeling exactly where the bruises from her finger marks were on my porcelain flesh. This was the night I died, and the night I was reborn, all in one hour. I gazed at Demonica, formally Monica Macon.

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They were arguing… unlike what I had originally thought. I stood at the stairs with Demonica, one hand resting on the small of her back. Sure, we were eavesdropping, but it was kind of hard not to be curious.

“I can't do this DS. I'm gonna leave now. Just don't talk anymore right now. I just can't.” I heard Villana say very, very firmly. I heard a door shut and footsteps beneath us. Then there she was, the woman in question. Villana. My nose wrinkled faintly with disgust. I began to descend the stairs, leaving Demonica where she stood. My hand gripped the railing tightly. I was still a little bit off-kilter from my experience with Demonica. My steps were carefully measured, the edge of the stair pressing against the soles of my feet in the exact same place every time. Villana had noticed us, and looked less than impressed. I got to the bottom of the stairs and leaned against the railing, arms crossing over my chest. My head fell faintly to the side, hair falling back over my shoulders, exposing my throat fully.

“Fuck him good, again?” I uttered sarcastically. My blue eyes held no emotion of jest or humour. I just stared at her, completely serious. I saw something flash into Villana’s eyes, and there was nothing I could do but smirk. I saw her watery eyes, and it made me want to laugh. She had seen the bruises, as I had intended, and was going to make a scene. Beautiful.

“What? You kids get tired of playing ‘Gwen Jordan: Dykish, Goth Doctor’ in the basement? Who said you could crawl out of your hole and talk like a grownup bitch?” She hissed. I put a hand to my mouth in mock shock, taking a melodramatic gasp inwards. Then, the laughing started. It was condescending and simple, but the look on her face just made me want to roll on the floor, laughing my proverbial ass off.

“Aww, little touchy now, aren’t we Miss Villana? Do you need a check-up?” I said, in a sing-song voice. “Besides, chéri, how grownup do you have to be to resort to calling me names?” I questioned, that grin on my lips widening. My fingers softly ran across the edge of the staircase as I waited for her to retort. I could see the frustration and anger crawling up her spine before it spewed out her mouth in a torrent of profanities and hatred.

“It would be really nice if you had something in your life better to do than hang around here. It's people like you and Demonica that have caused DS to act this way. He's better off without your bullshit.” She ridiculed. My brow rose faintly, head tilting more to the side. I said nothing. I felt Demonica slip up behind me and a little off to the side, as if she were getting a front row seat for the festivities. There wasn’t much I could say. Sure, I could point out that this was the first time I’d stayed here, and Demonica had pretty much been ignoring him. I could have also pointed out that I had a very profitable occupation. But I just let her roll around in her own loathing. People got more pissed when you didn’t respond to them, anyhow. Off to my left, I saw movement and knew it was Darkstar. Ohh, he was not gonna be happy about this.

“You two are just fucking whores sponging off of him! Fuck you both!” She exclaimed. I opened my mouth to speak in our defence, but somebody got there before me.

“Villana!” The voice was loud and raspy. I craned my neck to gaze at Darkstar. He was wild, the craziness prominent in his eyes. And it made me weak in the knees. Always the ready actor, I put my fingers to my lips in mock surprise, the pain flooding my eyes. “Get out...” Darkstar hissed. My gaze returned to Villana. Her bottom lip was shaking, tears streaming steadily down her face. I kept my hand pressed over my mouth, knowing that I was smiling like a crazed woman.

“B... but DS. She... they…” Villana stuttered. I took a step back on the stairs. I saw Darkstar’s head shake back and forth out of the corner of my eye, but didn’t look over.

“Get out... Don't come back...” He growled. I kept my eyes trained on Villana. I saw the pause, before she swiftly grabbed her jacket and ran out the front door. My hand dropped, grasping the railing as I seemed to steady myself. I was. The action of getting Villana riled up and trying to keep myself stone faced had worn me out. Dying wasn’t exactly fun, but I felt liberated. I just need my strength back. I looked to DS, my eyes wide and apologetic. Darkstar gazed back at me. He stepped forward and I couldn’t help but draw in a breath. His head tilted upwards, sniffing the air.

“You’ve changed.” He said quietly. He turned and moved out of sight. I just stared after him in silence. What else could I have done? I shook out of my daze and looked backwards to Demonica, smiling very faintly.


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