06/27/2022  The Clubbing Cannibal Out by herself, killer black dress sheathed on her flesh, white dress won't do, shows the blood.  Filling the club with her icy presence, away from her Daddy's stupid laywer, none of her newfound friends around to keep her at bay.  Dua Lipa's 'Levitating' song killing it on the dance floor, not her demon angel bestie or her pretty wolf or her cutie ghostly desire.  All by herself, gaze flying across manly faces of the David Gandy's and the Ryan Reynolds that desire her so much, to take her for a ride, all too lock her up at the end. Dua Lipa, 'Levitating', such killer lyrics with a rising disco-pop beat that gets her bod moving towards the bar to get her tasty gin.  Dua Lipa's British, reminds her of home, where the unknown pretty horror was first conceived centuries ago.  Taking the glass in hand, her icy touch making her drink more icy, she moves her motherly cracked hips towards the handsome boys on the floor.  Losing herself in the lyrics and the sounds of Dua Lipa's music. Getting closer, every wiggle of her hips and movements of her feet, takes her seductiveness closer to the boys.  The pretty boys, slipping her tongue across the rim of her glass, playing her eyes seductively and almost lovingly to theirs, she reaches them and waits.  She doesn't have to wait long.  They come to her, their hard bods molding with hers, moving with hers, she slowly looks up into their eyes with a smile.  Levitating higher, this one's tall, her gaze finding what's gonna sate her hunger.  She smiles, gin in her glass in her hand almost empty.  She wants more. -If you wanna run away with me, I know a galaxy And I can take you for a ride I had a premonition that we fell into a rhythm Where the music don't stop for life Glitter in the sky, glitter in my eyes Shining just the way I like If you're feeling like you need a little bit of company You met me at the perfect time You want me, I want you, baby My sugarboo, I'm levitating The Milky Way, we're renegading Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I got you, moonlight, you're my starlight I need you all night, come on, dance with me I'm levitating You, moonlight, you're my starlight (you're the moonlight) I need you all night, come on, dance with me I'm levitating I believe that you're for me, I feel it in our energy I see us written in the stars We can go wherever, so let's do it now or never, baby Nothing's ever, ever too far Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes Shining just the way we are I feel like we're forever, every time we get together But whatever, let's get lost on Mars You want me, I want you, baby My sugarboo, I'm levitating The Milky Way, we're renegading Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I got you, moonlight, you're my starlight I need you all night, come on, dance with me I'm levitating You, moonlight, you're my starlight (you're the moonlight) I need you all night, come on, dance with me I'm levitating (woo) You can fly away with me tonight You can fly away with me tonight Baby, let me take you for a ride Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I'm levitating (woo) You can fly away with me tonight You can fly away with me tonight Baby, let me take you for a ride Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (woo) My love is like a rocket, watch it blast off And I'm feeling so electric, dance my arse off And even if I wanted to, I can't stop Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah My love is like a rocket, watch it blast off And I'm feeling so electric, dance my arse off And even if I wanted to, I can't stop Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah You want me, I want you, baby My sugarboo, I'm levitating The Milky Way, we're renegading I got you (yeah), moonlight, you're my starlight I need you all night (all night), come on, dance with me I'm levitating (woo) You can fly away with me tonight (tonight) You can fly away with me tonight Baby, let me take you for a ride Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (take you for a ride) I'm levitating (woo) You can fly away with me tonight (tonight) You can fly away with me tonight Baby, let me take you for a ride Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (let me take you for a ride) I got you, moonlight, you're my starlight (you are my starlight) I need you all night, come on, dance with me (come on, dance with me, baby) I'm levitating You, moonlight, you're my starlight (you're the moonlight) I need you all night, come on, dance with me I'm levitating- The dancing's hot.  Flesh on flesh.  A cold heated sweat makes her flawless flesh glisten.  It's night, there's a pale full moon, with this kind of creature of the night's got a certain way of feeding.  Her mind focuses on the lyrical words of moonlight, starlight, levitating, and flying.  Then about love, you're the one for me, let me take you for a ride. That part makes her smile, makes her amp up her seduction, makes her dive deeper into this tasty boy in front of her who's moving so good against her.  Take you for a ride.  Take me for a ride.  Love, love, love, love. How Blake does it, it's quite unique, very special, so intimate, and forever and ever and unbreakable even from those pure and good hero types that come to her realm to try and save. Vampires can't help their hunger.  Her pretty wolf friend can't help her hunger.  Her vampire wolf goddess divine that somehow, someway, Blake can just get those pretty dark eyes to linger, can't help her hunger. The cannibalistic horror that Daddy and that stupid lawyer of Daddy's that's tried to hide and covers up the mess takes her bite near the song's end.  Her dark, handsome stud of a dance partner's just right, nice and tall, her mouth tucking in quite nice.  One bite, that's all she needs, fresh meat and flowing blood.  See, that's why she wears black at clubs. The song ends and it takes a moment for one to notice.  None of her friends and school chums are here, she's either shunned them or been shunned by them, and most of her high school friends are dead, murdered by her and her bestie that one time.  Maybe a member of one of the demonic and demon families are at the club, maybe not.  With Blake's, it's really the women in her line that are demon.  Blake's the only one.  Her mother died giving birth to her. Blake's an heiress of a vast industrial empire and fortune from her father, so maybe the Paparazzi's here. Her dark, handsome stud of a dance partner got distracted by her icy, cold heated lips, melted all of a sudden from a kiss.  Can't scream, maybe she bit too deep, maybe she's got magic going on.  Hot blood filling her mouth, dripping down to her gullet, her tongue salivating, and her jaw clenches.  An inhuman growl that can only come from a human that's de-evolved and turned on it's own kind without the touch of lycanthrope or vampirism is quite muffled by the mouthful of bloody meat.  She's wet and moaning from the taste. Must've bitten into an artery, must've taken a bigger chunk of meat, cause a hot spray just hit her in the face like an early blow of spunk from a man that can't control after a very inhuman tug of her clenched teeth.  There's a scream that attracts Blake's demonic milky whites towards a Ryan Reynolds look-a-like that's gonna be her forever and ever next, right after this one.  All the doors mysteriously shut and lock with the magic that Blake's got going on. It took longer than Blake thought for her screaming, girlie-sounding next beau to notice.  Chewing, drinking, swallowing, and feeling all that blood, it gets the attention of all the clubbers.  By that time, her tall stud she took a bite out of fell to the dance floor.  Dying. Screams turn her on, works out that meat, gets that blood going.  They go for the exits.  Oh, my pretty boos, I'm pregnant tonight.  Mama needs to feed.  Screams, so much screams, giving into her cravings, barely even sating her hunger that she's not utterly afraid of.  They all die, and in their deaths, her necromantic children are born.  Well, gotta throw some new demons in the mix.  Guess how? It's past MIDNIGHT.  Blake's covered in blood.  See?  That's why she goes with the black dress.  Oh look, her father's stupid lawyer actually followed her here.  He doesn't look so well.  Blake Knight, covered in blood and meat, moves towards this prick that won't leave her alone.  Daddy's lawyer's got lots to do to cover this up.  Don't worry, the Paparazzi WAS here.  They're dead now. When she passes him by, Blake gives this stupid prick a grin, an inhuman sound of her voice in his ear. "I'm keeping you alive for a reason, and my father too." Blake moves to the exit, a unique kind of creature of the night, sated. For now. 03: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

06/27/2022  Blood In The Pale Moonlight: Part 1 She is a forgotten legend of her own kind and children. A myth in demon and Abyssal history lost throughout the Abyssal ages before the new demons took over the Abyss. After her children grew, their elders were slaughtered or vanished and before they set their sights on new worlds and realms the Creators created. In the Pale Night's time, in her kind's own history, it was only them and the Creator Divines. Stealing energies from the Abyss after the divines exhausted their own powers through their despicable affront towards Pale Night, her kind and the Abyss. It ended up being easy to lash out towards them, for the Abyss itself lashed out towards them, for the Abyss came first before all in the eyes of the first denizens that were forgotten. The Abyss is vast. It is infinite. Lost, forgotten, thought to have been dead and very much desired to be left alone, she chose isolation. Something in her mind's eye, her thought process, from something she witnessed in the Abyss itself and what her children were doing triggered her decision to do this. To fade. One of the eldest, possibly the eldest, with such horrific powers best kept sealed, buried and locked away simply vanished from all memory and recollection from all. Impossible! Yet it is. Replaced with a certain horrific rage, the Pale Night's attention is drawn to the children of the Creator Divines. Their mortals. From the depths of pure chaos and evil that forever churns, changes and hides, there is the Pale Night's realm of bone, blood and souls. One of the many gifts of the Creator Divines for their children is the ability to reproduce. The Pale Night always laughs at that. Sometimes their children are unable to reproduce. Even when they pray to their gods. The gods are fickle. Praying to the dark gods sometimes gets results. The dark gods make her smirk. She stopped being an intermediary for the dark gods of fertility and for ones who would give such gifts a long time ago. Let them pray to her in desperation without them knowing who she truly is. Let them think she is a benign divine one of fertility. Let the ones who actually know who she truly is be blind to the actual price of such a gift. A child. A small village somewhere on a world. With many connections from the mortal world to the Abyss, places like the Abyss, where her children and their distant cousins and her own distant sisters and brothers and cousins are at, it is easy for mortals to accidentally find the Pale Night. The moon seems like it is red. A scream rips through the night. Many divine ones are lazy and easily distracted with their pride and their loins. They do not notice until it is too late, not until their very worshiper disappears from their awareness and their soul that should have went to them, does not and goes to the Pale Night. She uses a particular type of a demon to collect the price. She uses a high priestess too. Sometimes she actually comes to the laboring, screaming mother herself. A cultist forever lost. At the outskirts of the village comes a thief from underneath the earth where there is a crack into the Abyss. Coming out in a world of times before modern times, a thief covered in sweat and blood and earth. A thief that is the sole survivor of an adventuring hero party set on rescuing a knight who is forever part of her collection. Her soulless gaze is drawn to the stumbling thief who thought he is free and safe from the Pale Night's wrath after he stole something that should not be brought to the surface. She blocks the thief's path. She simply appears. A chosen vessel from this world. Cold. Soulless. Without emotion. When the thief saw her, he paled. The laboring mother screams louder. Claws stretch out from underneath the mother's womb. The thief steps back in fear. What belongs to her is in his shaking hands. She steps forward. She hears the thief's pleas. The chosen vessel remembers the thief now. The thief thought he could escape her gaze. He did it! He did it barely with his life and soul intact! No. The thief pleas. She smiles. The mother screams. A womb rips. A thief is punished. Screams. Blood. A horror. Unleashed. On their creation. Their children's souls taken. -End. 02: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

06/27/2022  Down The Rabbit Hole They Go: Part 1 Her silver metal serrated knife appears in her right hand. Her frigid bod over them all, straddling their spent forms. Cold eyes of soulless depravity watch them sleep. Their cunts against hers, their dicks inside her cunt, utterly spent and thinking she's broken. Insatiability against insatiability. She's ice cold yet melted with sweat that makes her bod shine. It doesn't matter who or what sex. Man or woman, god, demon, angel, monster, undead, ghost. They're seeing now, they're feeling it now, the draining of her bod and of her touch. If they're not dead then that means they're chosen. Blake Knight watches them sleep, waiting for more she is. It's happening now with most not even seeing. They will all see soon enough and they will feel it. They wonder what she is and what she wants. They think she's weak. When reality and the universe rejects ya, then that should be the clue. She's standing in the far reaches of madness, watching all the big bad horrors of madness do their thing. The Mother of Demons has forgone many of her other titles willingly and turned her back on her own kind and children. Another clue. Reality and the universe rejects her, her name and very existence forgotten, wiped away and erased for the good of all, for the good of law and chaos and good and evil. For their own good. Another clue. Blake Knight feels them stir. She feels their loins awaken. She watches their eyes open, eyes that were previously filled with the green-eyed monster of jealousy. Her very flesh has almost healed from so many hands tearing her apart in want of her. Her knife vanishes. Her hands behind her back. She plays these traits well, these traits of a succubus. It causes twisted feelings of love, desire and jealousy. So many want to break her, need to break her, Blake merely gives them a smile. They had slept, she still is at work. Now her hips start to move. Her gaze latches on to theirs, she draws them towards her, towards her very own little rabbit hole of reality itself. Where they gonna go? Time will tell. 02: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

06/07/2022  The Gallery Her touch shatters minds and warps self image.  Succumbing to it, they find their exterior forms reflect their innermost fears and DESIRES, becoming strange and terrible mutants.  That's what they say.  Who?  WHO???!!! Not just her touch.  The very sight of her, her utter gaze, evident of the fact that a divinity goddess or two find their gazes drawn, lingering, quite stuck, ON HER. Rarity, bravery or physical markers that draw the Pale Night TO THEM.  Sometimes they are allowed to see.  It's like they get her to show, drawing back the viels reality forced upon her.  Death or madness.  Death or doesn't even remember. They want to see.  Sometimes she wants them to see.  Takes so much effort. The number of occupants of her gallery of horrified souls have remained the same forever.  She loses some thanks to her most favorite kind of collection, the hero, who venture to her main realm in the Abyss after much trials and horrors, to free their loved ones.  She gains more after many of these pure and tasty heroes fail to know exactly who they're challenging. Many do not realize. Now, after she has risen from the deep depths of the Abyss, her gallery's grown from many new worlds and realms.  Pieces of them, of their hearts, their souls, their very blood, and their seed. Mm, the HERO, or the THIEF, somehow actually getting inside her ever-shifting realm that no one's supposed to find.  He doesn't notice the Pale Night.  Frozen in terror of how many souls are actually here. "BY THE GODS!" His sanity is pierced.  Not just the image of all of these poor souls, it's the walls and floors and ceilings of bleached white skulls. "They can't help you now." The hero thief turns, his very soul tugged, frightened eyes set upon the High Priestess of the Pale Night, Pale Night Incarnate Herself. She sees it in his eyes.  She sees that he realizes now.  She sees the symbol around the thief hero's neck.  Which of the divines does this one pray to?  He came to her alone, the FOOL.  Her gaze lowers and in that right hand is a weapon.  She can see into his soul and sees exactly who he came here to get.  Frozen in fear, this one wants to fight, to save who she has with her, her FOREVERS so close and dear to her DARK heart of ICE. "Very well.  Pray to your divinity.  If I deem you worthy, I might let you have HER." Her signature weapon, a serrated knife, appears in her right hand.  She watches the thief hero's gaze drop to her weapon.  If he loses, HE is HERS. HE nods. SHE moves. 10: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

05/30/2022  Almost Five Months Later - The Jolly Memorial Day Barbeque Santa Clause disappeared. His magic's just so tasty. She couldn't get enough.  All those warm cookies and other goodies that was left for Santa, Blake Knight couldn't very well let all the parts go to waste in the snow and ice of the North Pole.  She became distracted though, cute little helper elves looking for Santa Clause.  They were attracted by the great magical battle between Santa Clause and the soulless necromancer.  Gots plenty of the redhatted jolly man packed in ice.  With a tasty candy cane in her mouth, Blake breaks out the barbeque.  She works on remembering how to do this, having servants do this for her. It's not that hard, there we go, then Blake drops some tasty chocolate cooky infused meat on the grill.  The elves looked tasty to her at that time. She got some nuggets?  Puts them on the grill.  Some time later, she's sitting down and eating a fatburger.  That's what she remembers what they're called.  Just don't tell anyone.  It's not like any of you all know.  Santa Claus just appears once a year. 10: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

05/30/2022  The Sacrifice - At One Of Daddy's Parties The Sacrifice - At One Of Daddy's Parties Her choices are white or black; lace, silk, satin, and other materials.  Covering her all up or revealing some things.  Different themes, patterns, motifs, and symbols.  Ignoring her stupid father and her father's stupid laywer that's trying to hook her up with some rich playboy, Blake Knight's recalling her ritual hours earlier in her room where she was preparing for this stupid party.  Tuning her father out, a gold goblet in her right hand, wearing a daring black dress with a deep plunging front kept on her with a red sash, Blake goes back in time with her thoughts. In her room, standing nude, looking at herself in her mirror that's fogged up from her cold aura.  A gold Egyptian motif necklace around her neck, after considering her many choices to put around her neck, after touching her flesh dreamily with them while sitting in one of her chairs in her boudoir.  Which one's first?  Not that she keeps track.  They're all special. Starting with the Odin, the All-Father, Thor, Cthulhus, the Darksun, Orias, Raven, Shialla; their specific symbols of worship being picked up by her icy fingers and the edges of them traveling across her naked flesh.  Small tokens that were previously worn or carried by mortal worshipers of these divines. The very feel of them makes her nipples hard and her silky blonde slit wet. Soulless, shouldn't feel, heart dead. Through the eyes of the Hight Priestess of the Pale Night, the Mother of Demons that should not be watches something and feels.  Blake Knight feels too.  A cold exhale of breath is released out with a sigh. The Daedric Princes, King Ryan, the Jackal, Anubis, Satan, Lucifer, Asmodeus, the Leviathan, Azazel, Cetrion, Nyghtwolfe, Luke, Doom, and so many more. A modern day serial killer in the presentation of Blake Knight, starting so long ago with what the Pale Night began.  With her very own kind, with her very own children. A whimper, a prayer, makes Blake focus more on the source, pausing in what she's doing, running one of these holy or unholy motifs across her bare breasts.  She started in her chair, she continued by being in front of her mirror, turning on her barefeet, that soulless milky white gaze goes to the surviving warrior cleric of some holier than thou divine sent to slay her. Slay her?  Oh priest, you weren't even told who or what I am.  When the universe rejects you, when it casts you out, when reality itself willingly alters everything to where your name and who you are are erased, you don't KNOW WHO I AM!!! By this time, in her right hand is her signature serrated knife from the primeval Abyss, her most favored weapon, is against the throat of this powerfully potent priest, the lone survivor of a group sent to kill her.  She hisses, her icy coldness crushes against the holy aura of this one, like a lover in heat crashing against the bod of her mate, no matter the sex. She smirks.  She already chose her motif necklace, the Egyptian motif that matches her new black dress with the red sash.  She just likes orgies, that's why she spent time with the rest of the trinkets upon her flesh, with her collection of trophies and memories. With the tip of her knife, she makes this one look at her, her terrible and utter gaze peaking through.  She doesn't have just one sort of victim, she doesn't have one means of killing and collecting, she has several. "Look at me." The lone survivor, on his knees, about to die.  Not die.  No, no, no, to be forever hers.  She sees it in the priest's eyes while she hears him pray to his divine.  She sees him ask, 'Who are you?', 'What are you?', 'What do you want?'. She answers with this:  covering up his mouth, cutting his throat, taking his gaze. The screams are muffled.  Can't let her stupid father, her father's stupid lawyer, or the guests hear. Her gaze traps the priest's gaze.  You'll never know.  No one does.  No one. For I have seen the light long before you all, while your divines went about to create and quarrel with each other. Back to her father's party, the memory still so fresh in her mind, making her shiver, but not as much as the blood of her most recent victim tastes in her goblet.  Oh, this rich playboy her father wants to hook her up with is still here.  Her dead heart flutters.  She's thinking about others, someone else, what she has planned. 05: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

05/25/2022  Thoughts PSA My thoughts and prayers to anyone's directly affected by Uvalde and Buffalo shooting loves.  I'm really sadden and really sorry.  Keep your kiddos from the news.  That's what I'm trying to do :( 01: PM 0 Comments  (Add Comment)  | 0 Kudos

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