Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.
--Emily Dickinson
Simone sat in the basement of her home. Daylight grew further and further away as autumn settled into the bones of the city. She could smell the leaf mold from her place in the basement, the window wells filled with wet and dying leaves. In the withering of existence she felt time pressing down heavily upon her as it passed. Each moment was a heavy, heady breath.
She felt invigorated.
That feeling lay like a strange hair shirt, itchy in a way that was only slightly unpleasant, but not unseemly to deal with. The power of the goddess ran through her veins and she could feel long unused muscles twitching as if living once more.
She had stayed away too long.
For months she had kept herself bereft of contact with others of her kind. They could not help her in this journey. Thick blood and goddess-energy pooled in her toes. She felt the warmth travel up chilled skin and appendages, each cell of her filling once more with the desire to move, to be, to feed.
They needed her.
The Acolytes of Chicago. The residents of the city. She had left abruptly without a word, but now the desire to return was overwhelming. The plaguing stagnation fled her veins. She needed to feed, it had been too long. The irony tang of hot fresh blood filled her mouth as she imagined it. She felt her muscles stiffen as she pulled herself off the stone cold floor and stood up.The scars on her flesh twisted and ached with chill as she began to move, like a creature coming out of hibernation every cell tingled with renewed movement.
Filled with the power of the goddess she climbed the stairs to do Her bidding.
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