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Permalink Reply by 0zts14xzjk0gy on August 16, 2019 at 2:13

Jonathan Bradford had never felt so powerless. Hands chained above his head, stripped down to everything save a pair of tattered jeans that had seen better days his body was beaten and bloody. Blood oozed and leaked from dozens of slices and cuts ranging across his body, more still was dried and caked over the sweat and grime that had collected on his skin after being held in the same position and location for days. If there was one thing he could say about it he father, it was that he knew torture. Abraxas Bradford had perfected the art of torment, sliding in and out of the room at random intervals sometimes just to talk, others to question him, and still, others to simply inflict pain. It was all a delicate dance, a tactic used to keep Jonathan off balance in order to slowly strip away his defenses and eventually chip away at his resolve until he gave
Abraxas what he wanted. What his father had learned however was that the son was just as stubborn and stalwart as he was, holding tightly to his convictions and giving not a thing away in all the time that they spent together.

The male Nephilim had clung to the principals that his mother had instilled within him and lived for only a single purpose: protecting his siblings. Cornelia, Clarissa, and Isaiah were his number one priority, keeping them alive and out of Abraxas’s radar had been his life’s goal from the moment his mother had revealed everything about his parentage. So as the very devil that threatened them all demanded answers of him every slice of the knife and iota of pain that shot through Jon’s body was another layer of conviction that wrapped around the steel cage of his heart. He would not break; not now, not ever. He could take the pain, he could take the misery so long as those he loved the most remained safe and out of this monster's hands.

Things got even more interesting when he revealed to his father just who he was, throwing the man off-kilter, though he earned a knife through the thigh for it. Groaning he doubled over as far as the chains around his wrists would allow him to, grinning at the look of fury and disbelief upon the man’s face and reveling in it. “Lies,” Abraxas hissed, “My son died in the hospital, a stillborn because of my weak wife.” The venom behind those words told Jonathan just who he blamed for that imagined slight and it made him furious that he would do so. “What’s the matter, don’t recognize your own kin when he’s staring you in the face?” It was a taunt, and the longer the pair stared at one another the more he knew he was getting to daddy dearest. Before either of them could break however the door burst open, a blur of motion knocked Abraxas away from Jon as the two went wrestling to the floor.

It took a moment for the male to realize what was happening, his heart jumping up into his throat. “Cornelia! No!” The Detective had let her emotions get the better of her, charging headfirst into the room like some stupid hero and tackled their father to the ground. Desperately Jonathan struggled against the chains that held him fast, anchored to the ceiling as both father and daughter came to blows and struggled for dominance across the room. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted, this was exactly the reason he had put himself in harm's way, in order to keep the rest of them far away from Abraxas and his men. His brother and sister's had always been guiding force behind his very existence, every move he had ever made in life had been to ensure their safety and security.

For a hair raising few moments, it seemed as if Cornelia might get the upper hand, her lightweight and slighter build making her faster and more agile allowing her to land some good punches. With a sinking feeling in his stomach though Jon winched as Abraxas twisted beneath her, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanked gaining the upper hand. More commotion distracted him, two more bodies entered the fray one heading straight at Abraxas and Cornelia while the other slide over to him. Clarissa. Gritting his teeth he struggled to get his feet back underneath him, hissing as she pulled the knife out of his thigh. "I told you all to stay away." He tried to sound stern but the relief in his eyes was evident as she set to freeing him.

After what seemed like hours he heard the quiet click of a pair of locks give way, then his arms suddenly swung down and his entire body just about collapsed. Jon was embarrassed by how quickly his muscles gave way, his entire body buckling like a felled tree and had it not been for Clarissa he would have hit the floor. Groaning as his limbs protested he nodded, "I'm fine. We have to help them. We need to get out of here." Once more the timing seemed impeccable, the moment the words left his lips a little squeak sounded in the corner and the sound of a body hit the floor.

Together both Clarissa and Jonathan turned to watch as Abraxas tossed Isaiah's body off of him, the way the young Nephilim hit the ground something within Jon's mind told him his brother was dead. That thought was confirmed by the animalistic battle cry that echoed through the room as Cornelia once more launched herself at Abraxas, gone was the cultured and graceful Detective. In her place was the wounded and rabid daughter struggling with all of the loss and trauma that this monster had put her through. Before Clarissa could join her Jonathan grabbed his sister's wrist and pulled her back, adrenaline flooding his system giving him the strength to push away his grief for the time being and deal with the here and now.

Turning his littlest sister towards him he cupped her cheek much like she had when she had come into the room, “Listen to me, we need to be smart about this or none of us are getting out of this room alive. We will need to work together to take him down.”

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NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on August 17, 2019 at 15:39

It was as if everything single thing she was taught in The Assassin’s League was for nothing, there was no amount of training that could ever provide her with the confidence to deal with the scene before her; she watched, helplessly and with wide eyes. It was as if she was stuck, frozen in the heat of the moment whilst every ounce of her blood ran cold, and the movements across the room moved in slow movements; it was as if the universe wanted to absolutely make sure that she knew what was happening, and that she would be unable to mistake the outcome. Rissa stood there, unblinking and her lips fell agape; she had seen this very scene so many times before, multiple times a day yet the death she witnessed was more than just a physical motion - it was taking its toll on her emotional wellbeing. The raven haired Nephilim watched as her twin brother was flung across the room to the ground as if he was nothing more than a ragdoll; she had never seen her brother look so vulnerable, so small and so innocent. 

Her gut twisted tightly as her younger sister went in on Abraxas - a move that Clarissa should have done moments before if she was able to comprehend and dissociate from the death of Isaiah; but instead, she continued to hold onto Jon like an ice sculpture. Rissa watched for the briefest moment as Cornelia flung herself towards their Father, but in truth - Clarissa was too overwhelmed by the death of her brother to even think of anyone else; it had felt like a huge part of her had been stabbed too, snatched from her. It was a common saying that the twins had an indescribable and an unexplainable connection and she knew she felt Isaiah’s last breath because for that moment; her heart too, stopped beating. She watched her brother’s limp body as it laid upon the ground, but she was still very much aware of her surroundings as she suddenly felt Jon’s grasp on her tighten which brought her back to reality; her widened gaze moved from the ground to once again, watching another fall - Cornelia. 

Clarissa knew that Abraxas was tough, and animalistic but she truly could not comprehend how he had beaten one of the best Assassin’s she had ever had the pleasure of knowing as well as a Detective who had spent the whole of her life planning the demise of Abraxas Bradford. She soon shook her head, shaking herself away from her thoughts - an act which helped her dissociate from the scene before her; Rissa made sure she had dissociated enough to function and be aware of how monsterous the man was, but she still kept a small window open to allow anger and frustration to channel and power her muscles. “I’m sorry” Rissa muttered under her breath, moving to let her older brother weakly stand on his own, she was going to kill her Father - and if that meant she died in the process; so be it. 

A growl rumbled within the back of her throat as she pushed forward only to be pulled back once more to find herself within Jon’s comforting embrace; her eyes flared and her brows furrowed as she listened to his words - it was almost what she told Isaiah before he went rushing in just a few minutes ago. Despite the adrenaline and the need to kill, she knew he was right, yet the sound of Abraxas chuckling in the background made it difficult for her to see reason. Clarissa swallowed harshly, Jon was not at fault and thus did not need to hear the venom which so desperately wanted to coat her words. “Have you got enough strength for pain infliction?” She asked, her hand reaching for her dagger. “We will kill him mentally and physically” 

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Permalink Reply by 0zts14xzjk0gy on September 4, 2019 at 21:53

From the moment Jon had been told of his origins, been made aware of the heritage that ran through his veins a weight had settled upon his shoulders. His mother had imparted the sordid tale of a murdering maniac that took great pleasure in inflicting pain ever upon those who should have been those he would protect above all else. She instilled in her son a deep and resounding need to protect, one that went into the very core of his being and extended beyond even those who shared a blood tie with him. Anywho Jonathan grew to care about were brought beneath the umbrella of his guardianship and that was a duty he took very seriously. For the whole of his life, he had known only one mission: to keep his siblings and loved ones safe from the demon father he called Abraxas.

As his sapphire hue caressed the empty vessel that used to be his vibrant and sometimes reckless little brother an integral piece of his heart died. Slowly it withered and blackened within his chest, his ears ringing to the sound of Cornelia's headlong rush into the fray and his stomach turned over. This. This is what failure felt like. Sensing still more danger to others who were as yet alive Jon managed to shove his feelings down, deep down into a black abyss where they could fester and grow. Right now he needed to be clear-headed and in the moment, free of emotions. If he was to save at least one, maybe two of those he loved he would need to act quickly.

Grabbing Clarissa he could sense her turmoil, sense the same aching darkness and hurt within her. Like him, she was able to pull herself together recognizing they had one shot to end the monster and free them all from his evil once and for all. Her question had the Male drawing in a deep breath, he was tired but somehow he found a burst of energy. Nodding he drew himself up, pulling a knife from one of the sheaths at her thigh he stepped back feeling better now that he had a weapon in his hand. Abraxas was one of the most powerful Nephilim he had ever seen, and yet with the rage and pain rolling through them, both Jon thought they both had a chance.

Together they turned to face their father and as usual, he was ready for them, with an evil smile upon his face. He held Cornelia's captive, her body at an odd angle with her head held firmly between his palms. She lay limp, her chest heaved for each breath as if she were fighting for every ounce of oxygen and her hands clawed at the fingers the bit into the points of her temples albeit weakly. Abraxas made eye contact with Jonathan his smile growing ever wider at the tears Jon didn't realize had begun to slide down his face for they both knew what was coming. Unable to stand to look into those cold and ruthless hues so much like his own his irises dropped to Cornelia’s, holding the gaze of his sister.

She had always been so strong and independent, even as they stared at one another there was a stubborn streak in the depths of her cocoa hues. The stalwart Detective, always willing to leap to the defense of the downtrodden and defenseless. Her leadership ability was unshakeable and could weather any storm, she was fearless in the face of any situation and nearly any foe. As a Nephilim, she was magnificent, vibrant in her will to live and let live. Deep in the heart of her eyes he saw accept dawn and that broke his heart, even more, shaking his head Jon couldn’t bear to look away from her; the little sister he had sworn to protect.

"Please….," he pleaded desperately, "Please don't do this!" His voice was barely a whisper through the emotions clogging his throat and yet the monster let loose a chuckle and twisted his hands viciously.

Jon took a stumbling step forward, his knees buckling and the breath slammed out of his chest as he watched the light leave Cornelia’s eyes. Abraxas let out a merciless laugh, dropping her body at his feet as if she were no more than a discarded toy as he rose and took a step closer to Jon. “So pathetic. I’m going to wipe out every last one of you and start over. This time my seed will be stronger. Far more perfect and less sentimental.” He spit out the last word as he took a handful of Jon’s hair and yanked his head back so that father and son were looking eye to eye.

At that moment Jonathan didn’t use his anger or rage, Abraxas was far too familiar with both of those emotions to be brought low by them. He thought of his poor mother, of Isaiah who never had a fighting chance, and of valiant Cornelia gone too soon from the world. Despite the hours of torture, his mind rose up and he took hold of his father’s mind and flooded it with both love and crippling sadness. He let Abraxas feel all of the roiling emotions that now seethed within his broken and darkened heart. The monster had never known sadness or pain, he’d never known regret or the crushing guilt that now lay heavily upon the male’s soul.

With a groan his father fell to his knees in front of him, clutching at his head with a deep and agonizing moan. “Stop this! Stop this now!” The Nephilim somehow connected with his sister, the one other remaining child so that the father could feel the agony he had caused to the two remaining children he had upon this Earth. Their suffering and anguish were his own, radiating through every inch of his body in such a way that he had no choice but to feel the crushing hopelessness that he was now forcing them to live with.

With tears flowing from his eyes Jonathan sat nose to nose with the man who had killed the humanity in him, the being who had taken nearly all that was dear to him. “Now you will feel what it feels like to suffer the loss of another, the have true feelings. It’s a pity that you will only have to experience them for such a short time.” Without looking up he had been able to sense Clarissa the entire time, waiting in the background to make her move.

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NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on September 7, 2019 at 15:36

It was incredibly hard but necessary for her to ignore and shut down any of the emotions which boiled within her; they were demanding to be felt, demanding her to notice the pent up feelings but more importantly, they demanded that they were released on one person she so often craved validation from. Ever since her arrival in Evermore and the realisation that she had family and siblings, it was often drilled into her that her biological Father was not someone she wanted confirmation from; but as a child grown without a Father figure, it was impossibly hard not to want that. Yet, as their Bradford tale unfolded, it became more and more evident that they were correct - Abraxas was not someone she needed anything from besides from answers and it was obvious to her now he would not give that information to her. Which in fact, simply angered and upset her more; she had every right to know who her biological Mother was, but as she watched her so called Father today, he would not indulge in any sharing to please a daughter he so desperately wanted rid of; after all, she was a mistake, a product of a one night stand - just her very being brought shame upon him. 

Abraxas Bradford, Father of twin bastards. 

The words never stung as much as they did today, perhaps because they were made a reality with how easy it was to end his bastard son's life; it was a wakeup call for how she would end up if they did not play this smartly. Clarissa had to truly focus on her breathing without lashing out at the monster, thus when Jon took her into his arms and she met his blue gaze; just for the briefest of moments, she felt safe, and warm despite the storm which has begun round them. Rissa realised she was not alone despite having a huge chunk of her heart removed in an instant and was relieved to know that her elder brother was able to conjure enough strength to use his mental powers to conflict whatever was necessary upon their sperm donor. As she held Jon's gaze, she understood the silent conversation which happened between them and allowed him to take one of the daggers she held so dearly; she needed him protected if he was unable to use all of his physical strength. Slowly, Clarissa turned her body to face the devil himself and without realising it, she slipped her free hand down to grasp hold of Jon's hand; she gave his had a slight squeeze of reassurance but also due to needing support as Abraxas held onto Cornelia; a predator simply playing with his prey.

Her free hand rested above the sheath, her fingertips toying with the handle of her favoured dagger which automatically gave her some comfort; yet she noticed, all the while Abraxas held Cornelia, he never once looked at her - it was as if she never existed. She was no one to him. He only focused on Jonathan, who was meant to be his heir, his pride and joy but instead, his enemy; it hurt, of course - she had always been a number to someone and a weapon to others and it wasn’t until Evermore city when she began to feel a sense of belonging, a sense of others wanting her around and not just for their personal gain. Yet, as Abraxas focused on Cornelia and Jonathan, those feelings of being unwanted and alone crept in. A single stray tear fell and she quickly used the back of her hand to wipe it away - despite given the circumstances, she did not want anyone to see her cry. 

Clarissa could, however, feel Cornelia’s weak and more than likely blurred glance, and she held her gaze for a long moment; she was the sister she didn’t know she needed until recently, a friend who would have her back when she didn’t deserve such support - and in this moment, Rissa felt guilty as she was not a better sister in return. There were so many things she wanted to say to her, to thank her for - to speak about all their plans together and all the laughter that was to have; but more importantly, Clarissa still had so much to learn from Cornelia. Rissa softly mouthed the words ‘I love you’ to Cornelia just as Abraxas had his wicked way; adding another life to his black book, delivering another life to the other side. 

The Nephilim blinked suddenly to rid the tears which dared to overflow and released Jon’s hand as their Father approached them with his sole intent of going for his son; Rissa did not want to stand aside, but they fared better if they had him in the middle, thus, she silently moved closer to where her siblings lay. She couldn’t bare to look down at them, not yet, thus she kept her gaze upon the two men, silently waiting for her chance to strike as well as watching Abraxas for any foul move. Her lips continued to twitch, almost into a smile as Jon was able to bring him to his knees and with that, she removed her dagger; her muscles eager to kill now - she waited for Jon to say his final words before moving in. 

Clarissa moved to stand behind the man who she called her Father and grasped the back of his head, yanking it back so he had to look up to her; all the while exposing his neck and keeping him still despite his violent shaking. Her lips parted to speak to him, but there simply were no words, thus she brought the tip of her dagger to his pulse and in one quick foul movement, sliced it through his throat; the blade deep enough within his neck to cut all vital organs and glands. Blood poured and splattered from the major arteries which stained her face and clothes as she pushed the dying body to the ground. “You might want to look away” She glanced up to Jon, she knew he would not approve of what she was going to do; after all, the man was going to die from just that wound alone, but she needed to inflict more. 

She lowered herself down, her knees resting either side of Abraxas as she lifted her blade above her head; before aiming for his heart, only to end up repeatedly stabbing him for no real cause other than to release all of her pent up emotions. 

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Permalink Reply by 0zts14xzjk0gy on January 6, 2020 at 0:53

Armed, with his hand firmly gripping onto Clarissa’s Jon, hadn’t been near as prepared for what happened next as he wanted to be. He had given himself up to his Father in order to keep his siblings safe and had been fully prepared to die in order to see that goal to fruition. Unfortunately, the Bradford stubbornness ran through all of them and without his meaning to he had placed them all in danger. Isaiah had died and now right before his eyes, Cornelia was taken from the world. All he had left now was Clarissa, and the burning need to see their Father dead. To wipe his brand of evil from the world completely and save future generations from experiencing the heartache and tragedy that they had.

It didn’t take much strength to cripple and immobilize Abraxas, with the combined feelings of both himself and his sister the monster couldn’t figure out how to handle it all. Things like regret and guilt and sadness were foreign to him, and like a knife, they stabbed straight to the blackened organ he called a heart. Dropping to his knees father and son locked eyes, both in agony that they were now sharing and yet Abraxas Bradford was attempting to stave off the emotions and return to his usual homicidal self. Unfortunately for him, Jon was not alone, Rissa was coming up behind their Father with resolution in her eyes and a dagger in her hand.

Keeping the grip on the monster's mind as Clarissa grabbed his hair and pulled it back, neatly slicing her blade along Abraxas Bradford’s throat. Blood sprayed in a fountain, splashing over the two siblings as the knife cut through arteries and sinew alike. It happened so suddenly and the mental grip he had on the male snapped like a rubber band causing Jon to recoil slightly in pain. His hold on his Father’s mind had been absolute and as the knife has penetrated the son had felt the father’s pain. Abraxas had felt the pain, felt regret and the rage that coursed through his father as he realized that he had made a mistake that had cost him his life.

The emotions had surprised him, letting him drift a bit in a daze, realizing that Abraxas Bradford had been capable of feeling more than just anger and hatred. Granted the bastard had been a self-serving son of a bitch but he had been just as much a functioning Nephilim as the two children he had left behind. Blinking Jonathan came back to himself, his vision filling with his sister stabbing the now mutilated body of their father over and over again. There was a gaping hole where his heart should have been, the meat around the wound looked as if it has been pulverized by a pack of wolves and yet Rissa kept right on stabbing.

Acting quickly Jonathan reached out and grabbed his sister, pulling her away from the body despite how desperately she fought against him. Taking hold of the knife to make sure she didn’t accidentally stab him the male dragged them across the room until his back hit a wall. He gathered her against his body in a tight hug, rocking her back and forth while making calming sounds. He repeated over and over again that he was dead, hoping to break through to her. This building was now covered in blood and death, the evidence and the bodies needed to be burned which meant he needed Clarissa to come back to him.

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NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on January 12, 2020 at 16:00

For the briefest of moments, Clarissa forgot all about what had happened in the room moments before; she forgot that she was not alone, and that her older brother was only an arm’s length away. She liked it, she liked the darkness that surrounded her before consuming her; it felt as if she was releasing the beast which had become dormant since arriving in Evermore. Her Assassin was finally getting fed, however, as it had been so long, Rissa was getting messy; each attack had lost precision, and was consumed by anger. She was angry, so angry - not only had Abraxas murdered her siblings, but he had also gone to the grave with information that she so desperately needed; he left her with no information to find her birth Mother, and wherever Abraxas was right now, she was sure that he was revelling in satisfaction. Yet, most importantly, she was angry with herself; she had let her siblings die and she had let herself get comfortable with the idea that he would have given her the information when she met his requirements. 

If it weren’t for the blood which spattered up against her face, she wouldn’t have blinked; her gaze was so transfixed upon the gaping hole which now resided in the middle of his chest. She wanted his heart, although in reality, she wondered if he ever had one; and if he had, it would surely be shrivelled up by now - nothing but a shrivelled prune. Eventually, the darkness around her faulted as she felt Jon’s grasp around her, tugging her away from the deceased; Clarissa protested loudly, and for the first time in a long time, she had let her emotions out. Because of that, it was like a volcano, she had completely erupted as she fought against her brother; she needed to ruin Abraxas’s body much like he ruined their lives. “We can’t let him get away with it!” She screamed, now that her knife was taken away from her, her fists balled up and began to pound against his chest; the realisation that she was beating against open wounds didn’t hit her until the calming sounds that caressed her ears slowly began to make their impact. Soon enough, the young Nephilim slowed her motions until she fell against her brother’s chest completely. 

“We can’t, we can’t” Clarissa repeated her words, albeit silently as she hid her blood stained face; she couldn’t quite bare to look at the scene just yet. The two siblings sat there in each other’s arms for some time before Clarissa managed to pull herself together; she eventually withdrew from Jon and used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears. With a steadying breath, she had composed herself completely, as if the recent outburst had never happened - it was rather frightening how quickly she could shift; yet a sad smile did, however, find her lips before she looked over her shoulder at the three bodies. “There are more bodies upstairs and in the courtyard” She spoke coldly, the emotion had disappeared as she entered business mode. “And we no longer have a trustworthy member in the force to cover this up for us” She stood up, and held her hand out for Jon to help him stand. “But we can’t burn them with the others” She exhaled. “They deserve better”

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Permalink Reply by 0zts14xzjk0gy on February 20, 2020 at 0:37

He had seen some carnage in his life, acts of human aggression and anger that had been taken out on a body, and yet this level of fury boarded on the insane. With her emotions so raw and frayed by the loss of their siblings and the sudden death of the monster coupled with her Nephilim strength Abraxas’s mortal shell stood no chance. Acting out of love for the only sister he had left Jonathan pulled her to him, grunting as her fists began beating against his chest. Her outcry broke his heart, left him feeling just as bereft and cheated as she seemed to be. Despite the pain, her blows inflicted upon his beaten and bloodied body Jon kept ahold of her until she managed to let go of the anger that coursed through her.

Holding her to him seemed to be therapeutic to them both, allowing them time to absorb one another’s closeness while also coming to terms with their new reality. It would years, perhaps decades before they were able to function normally, and even then the pair of them might never fully heal. The person who quoted time heals all wounds was an idiot, as there were some wounds that never really healed. A person just got used to the pain, learned to live with it until the sharp pains became a very dull ache. Some situation or smell or sound or word might trigger the traumatic event bringing it back to the surface and the healing process would begin anew.

After some length of time, he wasn’t sure how long, Clarissa pulled away from him her facial expression placid and her voice devoid of all emotion. Nodding his head the male glanced around at the three corpses, the once bodies of their siblings huddled in a corner and surprisingly left clean of the blood of their sire. Using the wall to help him back to his feet, Jonathan looked at her with a nod, “Agreed. Why don’t you try and find some sheets or blankets to wrap Isaiah and Cornelia in. I’ll grab the bodies from upstairs and bring them down here. I saw some lighter fluid while they were dragging me in. We will burn the bastard with his people and the building down, then we can figure out where to burn our kin.”

Leaning down the male grabbed his sister’s knife and approached the body of the demon who had terrorized his family for years. Kneeling down he looked in the blank eyes, “He’s dead mom. Wiped off the face of the Earth like I promised.” His voice was barely above a whisper, hoping that now her soul might be at peace, “Look after Cor and Isaiah for me, they deserve peace just as much as you do.” Once that piece was said Jonathan took his knife and began the grisly job of extracting the heart, taking several pieces out since Rissa’s hack job had sliced the organ up into mincemeat. He was methodical, ensuring that every little tidbit was removed before he turned to the task of removing the head.

Nephilim’s were resilient when it came to death, which made the task of killing one a chore. To ensure that the death stuck Jonathan made sure that both the heart and the head were divested of the body. Without either to animate the wretched bones that had done so much damage to the world at large then his soul would surely be sent to whatever afterlife the bastard deserved. Once the head was severed he set the thing down next to the shredded pieces of heart before rising to start gathering the other bodies. He set the all in a row, duplicating the process of removing the hearts and heads just in case one of these dead men were Nephilim as well.

By the time he was finished Rissa had managed to wrap up their siblings and remove them from the premises. He wasn’t sure which task was harder, but at this moment dividing to conquer was the best option. The sooner they got this grisly task over with the sooner they could put the ones they loved to rest. Walking back upstairs the male had to fight the fatigue that was trying to drag him into a black abyss, stumbling into the room above to grab a can of lighter fluid. He applied the whole can liberally over the bodies and the walls, carefully making a trail up the stairs and into the next room. He sprayed it over an old oven that was plugged into the wall, ensuring that once the blaze met with the wall the fire would ignite with the gas line and cause a huge explosion.

“How we doing Riss?” He called to her, grabbing a small box of matches as he ambled to the head of the stairs waiting to get word from his sister that she was good. They still had two more burials and burnings that would need to be completed while time was ticking against them.

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NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on April 14, 2020 at 18:30

It had been a long time since Clarissa Bradford had expressed any sort of emotion, particularly at that level and extreme; and particularly in front of another being. The ordeal was exhausting, and she could feel the tiredness leaking in, her muscles did not want to move and her eyes remained heavy, tempting her with the prospect of sleep that would never come. Sleepless nights lead to many other torturous things; such as memories of her past in The League of Assassins, of her victims cries of mercy - but more importantly, of the monster she had once been. The death of her siblings today, would only add to the guest list of each night that would paralyse her as she lay upon the sheets; it would be coupled up with the guilt that she was unable to save either of them. Thus, she knew she had to quickly compose and dissociate herself; she could see the worn out expression Jonathan held, despite the need to feel he had it together for her sake. 

Rissa watched him stand, and admired his strength that he was still able to move in such a way after the horrendous torturings from Abraxas. In fact, her eyes narrowed in concern that he would not be able to hold much longer, and seeing that he was now her only primary concern she worried how the next few days, weeks months and years would impact him. She didn’t care too much about herself, tucking her emotions away were one of her specialties as well as relying on very unhealthy coping mechanisms. Clarissa took a breath at her dead, authoritative tone and was surprised that Jon had somehow managed to mimic the acted strength; she at times, forgot that he was high ranking within the business world, and thus, had to share some of those very qualities to get where he was now. Jon had always shown her to be one in touch with his emotions and she recounted the numerous conversations the two had; with him pleading with her to show some once the truth came out of their shared blood.  “There… Are a lot of bodies up there, be careful” She insisted. “We may have missed a few people, I don’t think we did, but keep your eyes peeled”

Clarissa took a moment before moving away to watch Jon approach the body of their Father; and quirked a brow at his next set of movements. It was a bizarre scene to watch; her gentle, older brother with precision decapitating Abraxas. She watched for a silent moment before walking back through the hallway; flashes of her last moments with Isaiah playing in her mind. The Nephilim stalked the halls and headed towards an area of the building she assumed were the sleeping quarters; upon entering several rooms, she collected the clean sheets from each wardrobe or airing cupboard. 

The building was loud with silence as she returned, she glanced at Jon who had managed to collect as many of the bodies as possible; noting he had repeated the same precise violence as before. Rissa ran her fingers through her hair before moving over to Isaiah, and it was like her heart had stopped beating as she crouched down; her finger tips closing his eyes. “You have taken a part of me, with you” She whispered. “A singular twin in the world is a punishment, but if it had to be one of us, I am glad it is me to endure such torture” Rissa wiped a stray tear and glanced down at the ring which Isaiah wore, and removed it from his finger; with a slight inspection of it, she placed it within her pocket - he had worn the ring ever since they became partners on missions. 

She leant down, and pressed a kiss upon his forehead. “Sweetest of dreams, Qrow” She hummed and began to wrap his body in the sheet; a task she never imagined happening. Rissa repeated the same movements and sentimental words to Cornelia, and lifted her petite body and moved both Cornelia and Isaiah to the boot of the car they arrived in; so that they could have a dignified death away from the clutches of their Father.  

Eventually, Clarissa moved back to the top of the stairs and leaned against the cool brick wall for support. “We’re ready” Her voice croaked. “Send the devil back home” 

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