User blog:Ninjaman165/Aerowen's Heroin

''What do we define as obsession? For most, obsession is simply an idea that continuously intrudes one's mind. It relentlessly hounds them to no foreseeable end, until one day... One day, it drives them insane. For Aerowen, she defines obsession with one, singular word, and it began with a D.''

The winter air was chilled and crisp, the winds were harsh and sharp, and the land was white and slick. Far away in the distance was a red and silver tower, a tower that stretched 4,000 feet in the air. The shape of it was like that of a wine bottle: curvaceous and slender. This was Devil's Peak: the proud capital of the Blood Assassins. It usually overlooked a seemingly endless valley of multicolored foliage, but the grueling winter season now had everything covered in snow and ice. Perched at the very top of Devil's Peak stood a tall, and slender woman. Her inky black hair hung low, and her cold blue eyes lashed out at every snowflake. She gazed out at the sea of ice before her, pursing her tight lips with ponder. Her eyes widened in surprise upon the flurries of snow creating a face, THAT face. The face of her obsession, her allurement, her idée fixe. The woman clenched her eyes shut and reopened them, now finding nothing to see, just the gentle flakes of snow dancing in the wind.

Aerowen sighed and caressed her bare skin. For as cold as the weather was at the moment, she didn't seem to mind; all but her bosom and upper thighs was exposed to the elements. She had been out here, standing in the same spot for hours now, lost within the depths of her own mind. She thought of  him, and she thought of him a lot. Aerowen glanced over her shoulder into her room. It was a massive space, at least half the total size of a football field, and covered in various pieces of leather furniture. A soft, orange glow remained consistent throughout the entirety of it, giving the room a unique warmness to it. The walls were plastered to the brim with rather... disturbing items. They were pictures of all shapes and sizes, pictures of  him. Aerowen's sweetest sin. Her own little definition of obsession. The woman smiled lustfully at the pictures, continuing to caress her body sultrily. A part of her despised just how much she loved  him, but she simply couldn't help it. She wanted him. She  needed him. It was sickening. Aerowen gazed at one of the many portraits of  him, hanging on her walls. She moved over to it and rubbed it up and down with her fingers.

Dante.

Why... Why did that name affect Aerowen in such an, "exotic" manner? A part of her was disgusted from feeling this way, but she just... She couldn't help herself. Aerowen's mind was a jumbled web of varying emotions, each desperately trying to gain dominance over the other. It was a wonder how she made it this far without completely breaking down. Her subjects carried out all of her orders to the letter, but deep down, they all knew the truth: their queen was highly unstable, and could lose her mind at any moment. They also knew that the only thing that truly kept Aerowen "sane", was that of their mortal enemy. It was blasphemy, but they couldn't do anything about it, less Aerowen slaughters them all for questioning and defying her. So her army of assassins kept their mouths shut and hoped that one day, Aerowen would break through this blind, and childish obsession she had, and begin to see the real truth.

Aerowen had quickly sent Cytherea away in order to take care of some, "personal" business of hers. After she was finished, Aerowen sat on the edge of her bed and stared blankly at the hundreds of portraits of  him hanging from her walls. There she sat, unmoved for hours, studying every minute detail of his face, his hair, his eyes... Everything. Aerowen grabbed one of Eternal Fracture, and calmly and surgically began to slit her wrists down to her elbows. Dark red blood sprayed and splattered all over her body, the floor, and her bed. Aerowen let out a dull moan of ecstasy and collapsed on her bed. She dragged a finger up her stomach, covering it in her blood, and sucked it down without a care. Aerowen sighed deeply and looked at her bloodied arms; they had already sowed themselves up and erased the deep scars. She would do this procedure several times a day. Aerowen giggled. That giggle soon turned into a full on bout of laughter, before then transitioning into a disturbing cackle. She clenched the right side of her face, staining it with her own blood, and laughed louder and louder. She didn't know why she was laughing, she just was. Aerowen stopped abruptly, and stared blankly at the ceiling. She brought her fingers up into view and got lost in their crimson coloration.

Dante. There went that name again, surging through Aerowen's mind, and it affected her so.

Ecstasy.