I HAVE BECOME DEATH
the destroyer of worlds
TAGGED: ... | WORDS: 543 | NOTES: ...
She was not a zombie, but she was a servant of Death, though this servant was a lot different than those shabby, cliche ones. You see, she was neither made of undead flesh or living organs; no, she was made from the soil of the earth and harvested souls of the dead. Her body was just as it was meant to serve: a husk in her appearance, harboring the souls of the dead she took. However, her body could crack and crumble just like any piece of earth; she had no innards because what would a walking dead use those for? Blood was unnecessary to her for she did not need to breathe in order to continue living, but sustain herself on souls. This was the very reason why she had soul collectors, beings who would swoop in and drop souls onto her that would absorb into her. That was how she survived, that was how she went on living everyday of her life, unable to die a natural death.
Their vision would become corrupted by the dark shadows that emitted from Mashyuu, spilling outward and around them. Her eyes darted warily around, watching and observing, taking everything in before it all was swallowed by the dark mass. She narrowed her eyes and listened to Mashyuu moving, his footsteps inching ever so closer to her from all directions. Marceline had never been so unsure as to where to attack, just that he was coming from somewhere in the darkness. Tightening her hand into a fist, she spun in a circle, eyes darting around, trying to see where he would come from. It was in that moment that she sensed magical presence heading straight for her and she turned on her heels to face it. As she did so, the blade of energy swept against her side, cutting a deep gash into the emptiness of her body.
Distracted by the new wound, Marcy glanced down at it, noticing the weaves of darkness smoking away from her injury. She raised a hand and touched the shattered part of her body, frowning ever so slightly, then turning her attention back to Mashyuu. As time would have it though, she was a little too late in the reaction category, and a blade would be driven between her breasts. No, she did not feel any pain, no she did not die from the fatal injury, for the heart inside. . . well, it was not beating from the start. Marceline smirked and wrapped her hands around the blade that protruded from her chest, corroding it into nothing.
"Is that how you get to a girl's heart? Tsk tsk. . . what's the rush in trying to pierce my heart with your love so quickly?" Marcy mocked. "Baby, I'm the heartthrob here, I can make a man's heart burst with just a simple look; want me to—" However, that pesky, little beast had returned and taken her prey from her, lifting him to the skies from the darkness.
"Two can play at this game!" she called, raising her hand to the sky and pointing it straight at Rocky's wings. She'd send another bullet-shaped death energy orb at the two of them, hoping to take the creature down for good.