Murder Inn (Clementine and Open)

[Clementine Shaw]

✧ Murder Inn ✧

“Do you know what it's like to choke on air wondering if this time would be your last?” Clementine asked as she hollowly in a circle, her dress brushing behind, “Or what's it like to feel that strong fist connect with your cheek over and over again? The hand that was promised to protect, tethered together by a golden band and a contract to later be painted with the crimson of your blood?” the agitation of the memory causing the convulsion in her hands, curling them up into fist she turned her pale filmed gaze back upon her current victim.

“Of course you don't, you are the one who would raise his hand, the one who would never know true sorrow. Men.” She yuked out as her head lumped to one side. “Women believed to be Elegant, soft, delicate…thought to be powerless to their male counterparts. Yet little did your feeble male mind could fathom while most of us are delicate as glass in a mortal life, the afterlife is where power is ours.” With that her mouth opened wide as her screams echoed out into the man's ears. As he fell over on top of the woman he had just murdered.

Clementine’s leer softened as it moved over to the woman who lay dead under him. “I do hope you find peace.” She muttered softly before pulling the man off of her and tossed him aside. The streets seemed to be filled with all kinds of horrors, or maybe they were always this horrid and Clem was blind and filled with hope. Now that she was somewhere between living and dead she felt voided of any purpose in the perpetuating long life laid before her. She knew what she was, she had gained her revenge and now? Hollowness.

Clicking her tongue she set her sights on the eerie fog that rolled over the cobblestone beneath her feet. How would she spend her night? She wondered, she could wander the streets and look for more males causing harm to women, maybe save a few from the demise that seemed to be a pandemic among the young and beautiful. Setting off in one direction wondering, what felt like a frigid hand trailed down her back causing Clem to toss her head back and let out another scream.

Death was coming, but this was unlike any death she felt, it felt massive. Her head tossed back the sign of what she was standing in front of slowly swung back and forth. ‘Magnolia Inn’. The stench of death emanated off of the inn.