The Dark Mistress

[DormantEvil]

Thinking of trying this idea. PM if interested. Not many rules. Try to write a couple of paragraphs, be semi-literate to literate if possible, and just have fun. Frequency of posts can be once a week or more.



The Dark Mistress
Soul stealing for five thousand years and counting...

Deep underneath the city of Linkenville there is an unknown evil. Long ago this evil was feared so strongly that seven powerful mages of the day cursed the evil to eternal slumber. Nobody has set foot on the sacred ground since then. Wars have been waged and lost, and civilizations have come and gone. For thousands of years the darkness has lurked in the shadows, staying under the radar. Asleep and harmless whilst shackled. Becoming nothing more than a myth. In the old times the location of Mord'far was known to a select few who worshiped the Dark Mistress. The cultists bringing sacrifices to honor her, and in part to stop her from breaking free and tasting the blood of innocents outside of her underground Kingdom. In a labyrinth of tunnels and carved out ruins she has waited, in a deep slumber. Her Kingdom crumbling around her from the lack of minions to look after it.

The world was about to change however, as the alignment of planets outside of anyone's control were about to grant her the powers only gods ever wielded. This was causing the shackles to weakening. The seven mages have long since passed on, and magic has died out in this world. So there was nothing to stop the Dark Alignment from slowly rousing her from her sleep, enough to begin her plans. Nothing else pleased the Dark Mistress more.

In her youth armies died at her hands, as swarms of her faithful minions brought her the most pure and virginal of children. All villages for thousands of miles lost the sweetest from their crops. No humans followed her of their own free will, but she had her ways of swaying them. In the past she could pluck the soul right out of a sleeping humans chest. To ingest it herself, growing more powerful and also gaining the eternal loyalty of the victim. To be her servants in Mord'far until the end of time. Death no longer tried to claim them, unless it was by her own hand.

Since getting cursed to slumber, she had been waiting for this moment. Waiting until the alignment of planets granted her enough power to break free. And so, during an eclipse on one of the coldest days that the city of Linkinville and the world had ever witnessed and after almost two thousand years of preparation she broke free.

First she looked on her Kingdom and wept a single silver tear. But she knew that all could be replaced. In her strongest days nothing stood close to the architecture and development of Mord'far...but she could sense above her that something big pulsed.

Hearts and souls. They gave off a beacon that even in her still weak state she could feel. And she felt her energy slowly return. But at the same time she realized that she would have to start again...from the very beginning of her training. And so, through one of the old networks of passages she climbed towards the surface. The opening was actually a mortuary, and there were still small signs of it belonging to one of the strongest cultist families...her minions would have lived on until her powers weakened and released them from their hell...only to die finally. None would have survived to the present day however.

Stepping into the cold snow that covered the ground, the Dark Mistress, Morith T'Soni looked out at the lights of the city. So many souls, more than she would have been able to find after covering all the known continents of the world back during her reign...and all lay before her on a platter. Her Kingdom would certainly grow strong, and quickly.

Her long black hair trailed through the snow, falling freely. Her pale features from lack of sustenance gave her a ghostly white completion. Age wise she looked in her early twenties. Her curved figure was bound in tight ebony silks and leathers, and a thick leather corset belt strangled her waist. Attached to this was a thin silver dagger with etched runes all along it's hilt. It looked very old, especially compared to the modern world. Around her shoulders she wore a thin silk cape. She walked with confidence, her nose tilted up at the world. It stank. There was no more slaughtering of men on the battlefield, not like when she walked the earth...today it seemed sterile. And it gave the world a boring feel, at least compared to how she wanted it to be.

Outside of the graveyard she walked along the city streets, marveling at the architecture of the roads, buildings and bridges. Yes, this world would suit her nicely. And the night was only just beginning. ​

Looking for:

Humans...and lots of them. Each of you will play a normal character, living a normal life. Some will fall prey through seduction, others simply from her finding open windows in houses or by getting minions to 'find' pure virgins ripe for the taking.

Souls will be taken. Servants shall be made.

I'm looking for people who have a submissive side, and who enjoy RPing with a confident woman.

Or those who enjoy a bit of a fight, but won't shy away from submission once their souls have been harvested.

 

[DormantEvil]

Send me a PM if you are interested.

NO PROFILES NEEDED!​

 

[RockGod235]

There was a single click and the camera flashed. The harsh light only lasted for a split second, but the strobe was enough to illuminate every grizzly detail. The female body (or at least what was left of it) was sprawled across the floor at an odd angle, covered in drying blood. The carpet underneath her had soaked up most of the crimson fluid, the materials original colour completely lost. A large butchers knife lay next to her, covered in viscera from the tip of the blade all the way to the hilt of the handle. If that wasn’t proof enough that it was the murder weapon, then the puncture wounds and strips of flayed flesh and skin surely was.

Detective Tom Flynn stood over the corpse with a grim expression set on his face as members of the forensic team behind him continued to take pictures and examine the small apartment room. Flynn let out a long exhausting sigh as he ran a hand through his short chocolate brown coloured hair, dragging his fingers over the pale skin of his face as he did so. He was in his mid twenties, so young yet he felt so old. He remembered a time when he was just an average officer of the law, when he was clean shaven and always smartly dressed in his uniform. Now his jaw was dominated with stubble and his his soft green eyes looked constantly tired, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Since being promoted to Detective, that’s exactly how Tom Flynn felt.

“Tommy?” A gentle voiced called from behind him. Detective Flynn turned to face his partner who had finished quizzing the apartments land lord. Flynn's partner was a Senior Detective, much older than himself and was almost bordering on retirement. He was dressed pretty much like Flynn, black trousers with smart shoes and a heavy looking coat for protection against the harsh weather outside. The cold had been unmerciful this year.

“Update me.” he replied to the older detective with a tone that no longer held a spark of enthusiasm for police work. Detective Hugo was at least sympathetic to Flynn, knowing just how much of a strain these types of call outs and investigations were. Hugo had been in the game for years and was therefore used to these kind of cases, whilst Flynn was still relatively new to it all. This was his 4th homicide call out within two months and the idea that anyone could get used to this type of work was scary to him. These were the sights and scenes that haunted Flynn when he tried to close his eyes at night.

“Residents name is Sarah Foster, twenty three. Lives with her boyfriend who according to the landlord, ran out the block a couple of minutes before we arrived on scene.” Hugo said as he consulted from the notebook he held in his hand. “He also says they've been arguing for weeks.” he finished. There was silence between them after that, the only sounds coming from the forensic team in their white overalls as they went about their work. Flynn still had his eyes pinned to the body in the room, unable to make out the woman’s facial features due to the amount of damage..

“Tommy.” Hugo said, placing a hand on his shoulder and bringing him out of his thoughts. “Come on, lets get out of here and let forensics finish up. I'm going to chase up a record for the boyfriend, do you want me to drop you home before I head to the station?” he asked with a warm smile that was sincere. “Sure.” Flynn replied, wrapping his jacket tighter around his body as he prepared to venture outside into the cold again.

***

The car travelled through one of the many avenues of Linkenville city, the roads almost empty at this time of night, the pavements dusted with snow like sugar icing. At least its warm in here Flynn thought to himself as he sat in the passenger seat of the car, the front of his jacket undone which displayed his shoulder holster that kept his revolver. He felt a little better now that he was away from the crime scene, holding his hands over the dashboards heater whilst Hugo controlled the steering wheel. “Jesus Christ its cold.” the older detective murmured to himself as he took a hand of the wheel to stroke his thumb over a small ornamental crucifix that dangled over the rear view mirror. “If you'll pardon the blasphemy.” he said, throwing a glance over to Flynn who sniggered to himself. It was the the closest thing to a smile that he had shared all night.

“Oh, a none believer?” Hugo asked. Flynn knew that there was no judgement in that voice, but rather a curiosity to get to know his partner better as well as breaking the awkward silence that had loomed over them since leaving the crime scene. “I never said there isn’t a higher being, but come on. After all the stuff you've seen, after what we've just come back from...” he paused to shake his head in a disapproving manner. “If he is able to stop this kind of shit but doesn’t, then you're worshipping a pretty shitty God.” Flynn finally finished. There was a silence but when the young detective turned to look at Hugo, the older man was smiling. “Epicurus.”

“Epi-what?” Flynn asked. Hugo glanced at Flynn with an eyebrow raised, a glint of interest in his eyes. “An ancient Greek Philosopher. Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?.” he quoted. “Ha. Sounds about right old man. You sound like an ancient Philosopher yourself.” Flynn said with a half chuckle that earned him a playful back hand from Hugo. “Well if there is a God that is malevolent Detective Flynn, then you've better start doing something to please him.” was Detective Hugo's last words to Flynn before dropping him off at his apartment.

 

[DormantEvil]

The streets that separated buildings were covered in a crisp white layer, newly fallen snow over compacted ice. It made walking difficult and slow, but Morith found the pace rather suitable. She had wandered into a residential zone, with large towering buildings bordering the thin street. Trash cans and litter was a common sight, and occasionally a cat or dog would run up to her before promptly turning and fleeing. The street lights were few and far between, helping her to walk uninterrupted and without problem. Occasionally she would pause to stare up at the expanse of windows, the large apartment blocks housing souls in neat packages. She marveled at the pure numbers. Very few souls gave off the allure of strength though. It seemed in this day and age that strong people were few and far between. This would mean to regain her power she would need a lot of people to sacrifice their souls. Hundreds if not thousands. But there were millions here, the ratio made her smile. Imagine the power she could gain with millions of minions. She would rival the gods. Her Kindgom would expand ten fold.

Some windows however caught her interest immediately. Many families lived in these apartment blocks, families with children. So every now and then she would be drawn in toward one of these children. Only virgins of suitable age interested her, stealing the soul of a baby gave her a small soul although it did taste very delicious. Innocents. But for now fine dining wasn't on her mind, growing in strength was.

She passed an alleyway and could see the faint little glimmers of souls huddled under boxes and blankets. The homeless. Wandering down through these people, she could tell most of them were almost dead anyway. Allowing them to join her cause would be a great improvement for them, an honor. Leaning down, she revealed the face of an elderly man huddling a briefcase. His eyes didn't open, but the faint beating of a heart brought a smile to her face. Holding the man's head still, she kissed him. He woke and started to squirm, but soon he was paralyzed. Her touch, her allure, the vision people saw when looking into her eyes had a way of washing the fear and panic away. As if redemption was at hand, and they submitted to her will. This man was weak, and submitted almost instantly. The moment the connection was made she stopped kissing him and pulled her head back, her mouth open still. So was his. A bright white light began to fill his mouth before the wisps of light entered her mouth and she sucked the soul right out of him. Soon he lay still. Dead from the ordeal. It was a pity, but she moved on to the next sleeping person. Intent to gain at least some strength on these pour souls.

Walking out into the open air after spending a good hour sifting through the homeless, Morith felt warmer and lighter. Her skin wasn't as pale, although she still looked like a ghost. Soon three people followed her, minions who had survived the ordeal. Two men and a young woman waited for her to speak, huddling together wrapped in blankets. For now she was content with them following her. Until she found her new home at least.

It was after walking a few more blocks that Morith paused to watch a car pull up and stop out the front of an apartment block. Two men it seemed sat in the vehicle, both had a nice strength to them. One was brighter and stronger than the other, and considering the lack of pickings this interested the Dark Mistress substantially. She stood back on the corner of the block, three minions still huddling behind her. They would no longer age, and were trapped in their current state for as long as she deemed.

 

[RockGod235]

After the detectives wished each other a goodnight, Hugo drove off and the car soon disappeared around one of the cities many corners. Flynn climbed the small steps leading to the apartment building, taking care to not slip on the layers of ice that had formed. His hands reached into his coat pockets, searching for his keys when distant movement was captured in his peripheral vision. He turned to see four figures a little further down from the street who were staring in his general direction. “Fucking Junkies.” He muttered to himself, his breath misting in the cold air. Flynn tried to get a closer look at the female standing at the front of the small group, but found that his eyes couldn’t focus. In fact, his head begun to hurt.

The young detective groaned to himself, placing his hand against his head and turning his gaze away from them. Great, a migraine is all I need right now he thought to himself before he eventually found the keys deep within his jacket pocket. Perhaps he would take some painkillers or perhaps have a drink. Definitely a drink, he grinned to himself as he let himself into the apartment block. It was no surprise to him that the stairwell of the block was colder than it was outside.

Flynn begun to make his way up to the 5th fifth floor by using the stairs. The elevator had been out of order long before he had moved into his apartment and only a couple of corridor lights were still working. Whatever lights did still work constantly flickered. How the place was still standing Flynn did not know, but the place was cheap to rent and that was what mattered to him. It wasn’t as if he had a wife or any time what so ever for a social life since his promotion. Eventually he arrived on the 5th floor and found his apartment door at the end of the hallway. It wasn’t long before he was inside, sitting on the single couch that dominated the small room with his jacket thrown on a nearby wall hanger. His shoes had been kicked off too, with the top buttons of his shirt undone. He still wore his shoulder holster, the brown leather straps wrapped around his upper body with the reassuring weight of the weapon placed on the left side of his waist.

“Home sweet home.” Flynn sighed to himself as he stared at the coffee table in front of him, where a bottle of whiskey was waiting for his attention. He rolled his sleeves up to reveal his arms, one which was decorated with a tribal tattoo design, the dark ink running from his right bicep to his shoulder in interweaving patterns. The sight of the dark amber fluid was seducing and it wasn’t long before Flynn picked up the shot glass placed next to the bottle. He filled it to the brim with whiskey and knocked it back, his throat burning for a split second then feeling the warmth take over his chest. He released a small sigh of pleasure as he lay down on the sofa, suddenly finding that his eyelids felt very heavy. It took less than a minute for him to fall asleep.