Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Vishous dreams of his castration ~ Story Line

Until July 10th, we're doing something special and sharing some of our favorite Story Lines of the year that previously didn't make it onto the blog.

In this one, V goes to sleep and dreams of what was done to him.  

**Honestly, I really can't give it more of an explanation.  Keep in mind, this is a gruesome Story Line to read--so I'm warning you a head of time.  

Originally posted:  February 12th, 2013

Who nominated it:  Vishous

ENJOY!

XOXO!


The Unbound Team


Vishous Ghardian
*Walking through the Pit utterly exhausted over the past weeks rotation schedule. The sooner we can get these trainees ready for the big bad streets of Caldwell the better. What I need now is to curl up for a good day's sleep next to my shellan. As I open the door to our bedroom I sigh as I remember Jane would be working most of the day and that I'd be alone. Oh well it's probably for the best, I really need to sleep and with my Jane beside me...well sleep wouldn't be the first thing on my mind true?. Quickly stripping out of my leathers and not even having the energy to search for a pair of track pants as I lay down on our bed. The instant my head hits the pillow my eyes shut and I sink off to dreamland. Of course...if I knew what was about to transpire in my mind...perhaps I would have fought to stay awake. The instant my eyes close and my body goes lax my mind conjures up a night in my past...a night that forever changed my life.*

Vishous Ghardian 
*As I fall down into the mud I curse at myself. I had my chance and I lost. My chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, my nostrils filling with the scent of mud, sweat, blood and most of all...failure. The moment I feel hands on me, I strain against the hold. Getting flipped onto my back I let out a growl as I begin thrashing, glaring from the warrior who has a tight hold on my arms back to my sire. He should be dead....he would be if I had only succeeded. Snarling as I hear his voice, weary from the fight, call for his blade. My eyes darting to my left as two more males appear and grab hold of me. Using every ounce of strength I have in me as I continue to fight against their hold. Two more arrive, followed by three....nine in total have to hold me down. My eyes widening as I see another warrior bring The Bloodletter his blade and I watch him spit upon the ground. My heart pounding in my chest as my eyes never leave the black blade. So this is it...this is how it ends, by the blade of my sire the agony of my life is over. Clenching my jaw as I prepare for the inevitable sting of the coming blade when the Bloodletter does the unthinkable.*

Vishous Ghardian 
*I watch as he wipes the blade along his palm before sheathing the dagger in his belt and rubbing his palms together. My breath momentarily leaving my body as he shoves his right palm into my chest and pulls it away. Glancing down I see his hand print in blood...the sign of expulsion. So I was to be exiled...but why? Why not death? The Bloodletter's voice filled with hate as he decrees that from this moment hence I shall be unknown to everyone of the camp and death will be brought upon anyone of them who helps me. Pfft like that would ever happen, the only "friends" I have are the books of which were not destroyed. Feeling the warriors grasp on me loosen I let out a soft grunt before hearing the poisonous voice of the fucker in charge once more. Upon his order to take me back to the camp the hold on me gets tighter once more. My heart beginning to pound as I hear him call for the Blacksmith and say something about needing to warn others of my "evil" nature. What could he possibly mean by warning others....and why would he need the blacksmith?*

Vishous Ghardian 
*Continuing to maul about as I'm brought to the cave. My eyes instantly falling upon the wooden tray of the blacksmiths instruments as I hear the Bloodletter say behind the shade before the painted wall. Smirking smugly to myself as I see the terror in the blacksmiths eyes and feel it through the soldiers bodies who carry me. Grunting as the warriors throw me down onto the stone ground and pin each of my limbs down with two of them at my hips. Pulling against their holds as I glare at my sire and see the blood drip from his hands as he tells the Blacksmith to mark me. It is in that moment that I realize what is about to happen. The instant his tool hits my skin I cry out, cursing and using all of my strength to try and get away. However my tries of departure do nothing but tire me as the warnings in the old language are forever set into the skin of my temple, my groin and my thighs. I feel weaker then I did coming out of my transition...surely the torment must be over now. *

Vishous Ghardian 
*My chest rising and falling with labored breath as every ounce of me is exhausted. My eyes darting from the blacksmith to the Bloodletter and back as I hear him order the tattoos to be placed along my left hand. Seeing the look of sheer terror in the blacksmiths eyes as he begins to deny...it is no secret what that hand of mine can do and it is obvious he wants no part of it. Smart male. Hearing the growl followed by a threat of death I watch the blacksmith pick up his tool once more. His hand shaking as he goes about putting the warning along my cursed extremity. He makes certain that no part other then the tool touches my skin and it is done without incident. As the male takes a step back the Bloodletter get's in my face. Surely to give his final remarks before I'm cast from his site and this accursed place.*

Vishous Ghardian 
*The look of enjoyment mixed with malicious intent flicked across his icy eyes as he met my stare. My eyes widening as he says that he will do the race a favor and make sure I never procreate. My heart going a mile a minute in my chest as the soldiers pry apart my legs. My eyes looking from one to the other as they each look away, unable to look me in the eye. Upon site of the dagger in the blood letters hands my eyes nearly pop out of my skull, my body too weak to put up a fight as he curiously stops. I hear him say something about his dagger not doing the job justice. It's as if I go deaf for I can't hear anything other then my ragged breathing and the sound of my own heart beat. My heart sinks as pure and utter terror paralyzes me while I watch the blacksmith pick up a pair of pliers. Each step he takes towards me seems like forever as he lowers the cold metal to between my thighs.*

Vishous Ghardian *Clenching my fists as my entire body tenses and letting out a scream that reverberates off the cave walls. I'm certain that if you are in a five mile radius of the camp, you can hear my agony. I feel the pliers clamp down on my skin before the blacksmith pulls them towards him. I can hear my flesh being torn from me as the absolute agony shoots up my spine. I find myself praying to the Scribe Virgin to kill me...right then and there. Feeling the warm thickness of my own blood as it runs down my thigh. The pain is so intense that it causes me to loose the contents of my stomach...the stench of sweat, blood and bile fills the air and still I see the Bloodletter watches. I swear there is a smirk upon his lips as he watches the blacksmith inflict such pain upon me. Feeling light headed and faint as a warm sensation begins to come over my body. This is it...the Scribe Virgin has heard my prayer and is taking me unto the Fade.*

Vishous Ghardian 
*My vision becoming blurry as I begin to slip away...either just to pass out or die. Suddenly the warm sensation gets a whole lot warmer, I hear the screams from the soldiers that held me and the black smith. I look down and my entire body is aglow, the soldiers that once held me tightly were dead. The blacksmith and his instrument of torture had also been slain. My new found freedom bringing one thing...I roll over onto my side and throw up again and my body returns to it's normal color. I look up and I see the slightest look of fear cross the Bloodletter's eyes as he takes a step back from me. Mustering up every possible ounce of strength I have left I begin to crawl. My body scraping along the coarse, dirt ground as I hiss at the pain. Leaving in my trail blood and sweat before the wound heals itself. Everyone in the camp watches in silence as I slowly drag myself from the cave.*

Vishous Ghardian 
*Waking up covered in sweat, my fists clenching the sheets and my breathing labored I look around. I'm back in the PIT, I can hear Jay-Z playing in the living room and the hushed voices of Cop and Marissa. Looking down I see the scars that run along my groin. Taking a deep breath I can still smell the scent of dirt, blood and sweat as I run my gloved hand through my hair. Fuck....I need a drink. Getting up off the bed and making my way across the room to find some pants. Don't think Cop would like it if I walked out there naked knowing his female is there as well true?* ~



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If you are a survivor of child abuse—it’s not your fault.  I hope by reading V’s story from his book to now, you have the courage to see that there is no one so wounded that s/he cannot have a happy ending.  Believe me, if he can, so can you. 

1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453) is a 24 hour, seven days a week hotline that doesn’t just deal with children.  They can set you up with a counselor that will talk to anyone of ANY age. 
You are NOT alone.  Never. 

XOXO

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