Post by Alyson Bludwyne on Aug 20, 2017 7:18:27 GMT -5
Name: Alyson Charlotte Bludwyne
Age: 17
Birthdate/place: 13th February 2004 [Flux Victim]
Species: Human ?
Gender: Female
Family:
Mother : Anastasia Bludwyne - pureblood [Deceased Final Battle]
Father : Jakob Bludwyne - pureblood
Half sister : Rowena Covington - pureblood [though Rowena is unaware of this family connection]
Age: 17
Birthdate/place: 13th February 2004 [Flux Victim]
Species: Human ?
Gender: Female
Family:
Mother : Anastasia Bludwyne - pureblood [Deceased Final Battle]
Father : Jakob Bludwyne - pureblood
Half sister : Rowena Covington - pureblood [though Rowena is unaware of this family connection]
Maternal Grandmother : Natasha Romanov [Deceased Shadow Bind Ritual]
Maternal Grandfather : Antonin Romanov [Deceased Shadow Bind Ritual]
Paternal Grandmother : Annette Bludwyne [Deceased Shadow Bind Ritual]
Paternal Grandfather : Gustav Bludwyne [Deceased during own attempt at Shadow Bind in 1995]
Paternal Grandmother : Annette Bludwyne [Deceased Shadow Bind Ritual]
Paternal Grandfather : Gustav Bludwyne [Deceased during own attempt at Shadow Bind in 1995]
APPEARANCE
Hair: Long, straight and dark black, it is usually pulled back into a tight pony tail, though on occasion it is left to hang loosely around her face.
Eyes: Her eyes are large, round and pitch black. She is completely blind in the normal sense, having sacrificed her traditional sight to increase other powers, though this is not immediately obvious as she can 'see' life energy which allows her to be able to know where people are. Their expressions and postures are beyond her sight though she has learned to discern emotions through tone of voice.
Build/height: Alyson stands at a tall 6ft. There have been many who have declared her too skinny but she has never been able to put on weight no matter what she does. Her face is the same with pronounced cheekbones, a pert nose and large sunken eyes.
General Description: People's first emotion upon seeing Alyson is usually one of pity. Despite her height, Alyson still looks rather childish, mostly due to her round doe like eyes and frail, thin body. Her skin is permanently pale, almost always with a sickly tinge to it and she seems to be in a permanent state of exhaustion with darkness smudging under her eyes and in the hollows of her cheeks.
Possessions:
After loosing her sight, a solution needed to be found in order for her to continue her magical education. The result was a small mechanical bird that records lessons in lieu of notes and also relays visual information to her. She refers to it as her own Little Shadow.
PERSONALITY
Temperment/Mental Attributes:
She does not care for the complexities of friendship, instead preferring to be obeyed. She was able to convince two fellow Slytherins of the benefits to following her during her fifth year, though now as a Returned, she finds herself surrounded by strangers whom she does not know or even begin to trust.
Alyson as a student is, in essence, an extraordinary actor, able to use her weak body as a strength. In the public eye, she is a child of misfortune; sickly from birth and then so unfortunate to have been blinded in that terrible attack. Her voice is childlike, innocent sounding and all sweetness, which only aids her endeavors to remain hidden until she has enough power to be seen. She is hardworking, has to be seeing as she can only learn theory, determined and a complete smart alec much to the infuration of her Professors.
Her sarcastic, sharp, and silver tongue were legendary in her house, able to talk her way out of trouble without effort, though she has lost this reputation now that she started her 7th year 17 years too late.
She is generally stand offish and disliked, though as part of her part to play, she is not mean to others. It is usually the other way round, especially when others discover she still cannot perform spells.
Alyson as a true Bludwyne however, is a force to be reckoned with on a whole other scale. She never shouts. Shouting means you’ve already lost control but each word is precise, meant to cut deep, with the expectancy of being obeyed completely. She is chilling in her assurance, focused and purely dark in her thoughts and actions. She is a Leader in waiting and the waiting is over.
Alliance: The Shadows, The Pure Order and herself.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
EDUCATION
-Students-
House: Slytherin
Year: 7th
OWLs:
Charms - A
Transfiguration - A
Herbology - T
DADA - A
Ancient Runes - O
Potions - O
COMC - D
History of Magic - E
Alyson cannot produce magical spells which almost led to her being asked to leave Hogwarts. However, after the incident in which she lost her sight, and for which the school was blamed for for not adequately protecting it's students, she was permitted to stay and certain allowances were made for her. And whilst she cannot create the actual spell, her theoretical knowledge is extensive, allowing her to scrape passes in most of her subjects.
OTHER
Magical Skills :
Excepts from Moste Darke and Deadly Secrets by Una Sinclair
Bloodborne
Conceived during a sacrificial blood ritual, a powerful child will be born. The details of this ritual are closely guarded by the few families that know them and are considered to be of the Darkest kind. However, only three known successful cases have been noted in the past millennia, with two of them not making it past childhood. The third became a notorious Dark Wizard that terrified the Asian Wizarding community for several decades in the 1600s before he was captured. The data from this event is severely censored by the A.W.C. However, we do know that he was known for leaving a trail of drained bodies in his wake and that the Wizard did not use magic in the traditional sense. Why he did not and what he used instead to inspire such terror, we are left to wonder.
Conceived during a sacrificial blood ritual, a powerful child will be born. The details of this ritual are closely guarded by the few families that know them and are considered to be of the Darkest kind. However, only three known successful cases have been noted in the past millennia, with two of them not making it past childhood. The third became a notorious Dark Wizard that terrified the Asian Wizarding community for several decades in the 1600s before he was captured. The data from this event is severely censored by the A.W.C. However, we do know that he was known for leaving a trail of drained bodies in his wake and that the Wizard did not use magic in the traditional sense. Why he did not and what he used instead to inspire such terror, we are left to wonder.
Shadowloved
The Shadowloved are cultists who practice blood rituals to improve their powers. The things they do are so sinister that I hesitate to write them to paper. Indeed, learning these secrets was a perilous task and I fear revealing too much will only be signing my own death warrant. Nevertheless, dear readers, this is my task and I shall not waver in it.
The Shadowloved have several rituals of varying difficulty and outcomes. Some merely accentuate the senses, providing the proper sacrifices are given. Known abilities include a form of apparition called Shadow Leaping, not limited in range or knowledge, unstoppable by wards; Leeching, a power that saps energy from it's victims and finally the Dark Sight, though I was unable to discern the details of this power.
But their most terrible is that in which they bind themselves to the Shadows. This is the darkest and most difficult of all and all appear go mad in the attempt. But it is the aim of all the Shadowloved to attempt this ritual for if they succeed, they have the potential to be unstoppable.
The Shadowloved are cultists who practice blood rituals to improve their powers. The things they do are so sinister that I hesitate to write them to paper. Indeed, learning these secrets was a perilous task and I fear revealing too much will only be signing my own death warrant. Nevertheless, dear readers, this is my task and I shall not waver in it.
The Shadowloved have several rituals of varying difficulty and outcomes. Some merely accentuate the senses, providing the proper sacrifices are given. Known abilities include a form of apparition called Shadow Leaping, not limited in range or knowledge, unstoppable by wards; Leeching, a power that saps energy from it's victims and finally the Dark Sight, though I was unable to discern the details of this power.
But their most terrible is that in which they bind themselves to the Shadows. This is the darkest and most difficult of all and all appear go mad in the attempt. But it is the aim of all the Shadowloved to attempt this ritual for if they succeed, they have the potential to be unstoppable.
As Shadowloved, she has performed the Dark Sight ritual. This has given her the ability to see visions of the future providing they are of certain outcomes. It also allows her to see through the eyes of others as long as she, personally, has tasted of their blood.
Just previous to the Flux, she also completed the Shadow Bind but as the only known, at least to her, successful attempt, she has yet to discover the true meaning of this Ritual.
Patronus: She cannot conjure a Patronus.
Wand: Walnut, Rougarou hair, 10"1/4 and rigid
Goals/Aspirations: To establish her Pure Order and lead a new, better generation into a true Age of Purity and Dominion.
Other Information:
HISTORY
The Bludwyne’s are strong supporters of Blood purity and after Voldemort’s downfall they spend many years rebuilding their connections and influence, covering up their tracks and ensuring that once they returned, they would be welcomed as any other Wizarding family of good standing. Like many others, they escaped persecution by leaving the UK. They returned to Eastern Europe where they had both been born and for several years were forgotten, lost in the crowd. But here they worked hard; there was still much to be done to repair their name and status and return the World to it’s proper Order.
Freed from war, they focused on their own succession. They needed numbers but most importantly they needed power. They turned to the family specialty; Blood Magic. Anastasia sacrificed all her future children if they can just have this one, a child blessed by the blood in their veins and that of the families arranged artfully on the floor.
Alyson is born nine months later on a cold February day. She is a sickly child from the very start, small, skinny and prone to fever. She only cries and she doesn't even attempt to crawl. Her parents curse that their Rituals have failed them and quickly turn her over to a nanny, declaring her an unsuccessful experiment.
It is only when she is 21 months old and nearly dies that her parents pay her any attention at all. She has been sick for almost a week, fever high, skin pale, eyes sunken and closed. As her breathing rattles, her nursemaid puts her hand on her chest. Alyson grabs it with a strength belied by her condition. Slowly colour returns to her cheeks, even as it leeches out of her nurse. She is not even two when she first becomes a murderer.
Enthused, her parents return to her, bringing her into their shadowed, bloody lives. She is included in family secrets, Rituals and Sacrifice that would make most children run away, but she is Bloodborne and Pure. She does not run. She plays. Thus is her early childhood. Her first spoken words are in harsh Latin. She learns to write in Ancient Demonic Runes as a normal child would learn the Alphabet.
When she is five, her father returns to the UK to finalise their return. It is vital to their plans that their name has no negative connections. The Bloodwynes need to be remembered and thought of as innocent, good people. Bribes, Obliviates, the occasional quiet silencing of someone who knew too much. It is all taken care of carefully and effectively.
In 2011, the family return to their home in the UK. Jakob has done his part well and they are greeted with open arms. When asked why they left so suddenly, they explain that they had been fearful of having a family in such troubled times. And then Aly is paraded around and all can't help but feel sorry for the family. How awful that Anastasia's torture at the hands of the Death Eaters had ruined all chances for a happy family and that their only child is so sickly, though everyone agrees that her sharp tongue and clever mind are to be admired in the face of such adversity. Life continues much as before, with her dark education continuing behind closed doors and the performance of good witches and wizards in public.
It is only a few years later that Aly discovers Jakob had been busy doing more than fixing past mistakes during those months alone in England. He had also been making new ones and now she has a half sister, already four years old.
2013
Alyson paced the length of the study, her legs already long even at only nine years old. Her voice is innocent sounding, childlike, but her countenance, her attitude demonstrated a far deeper understanding of the world. "We should kill her now. She's an abomination. A mistake! A Bloodwyne being raised by muggles! The shame of it!" Alyson said sharply glaring as her father silenced her with a cold stare.
"No! You forget what we are, what you are. We were not supposed to have others of our blood. We gave them up to have you and you are all we hoped for. But now we have her too. It is a gift. And anyway we cannot afford to risk exposure now. You are too young. You must learn so much more. But when the time is right, our blood and that of the ancient line of her mother... they will give you more power than we ever dreamed you'd have. You must learn patience Alyson. For now we will continue to watch her."
"Is this what this is? Your observations?" she asked, waving a parchment around, the only reason she'd discovered this little secret at all. "When were you going to tell me you had fucked another woman? That I wasn't your only daughter? I wasn't supposed to see this at all, was I father? She was going to be your little secret, a back up in case I didn't work out." The anger had returned, though the voice remained calm. She'd never had a traditional relationship with her parents. The Bloodwynes loved for show and the public only. In the privacy of their home, the relationship was purely businesslike. They had made her for one purpose and one purpose only. Until she could fulfill that potential, she was to be taught and managed effectively. Her job was to learn and listen, but as she grew older and learned more, she found she didn't want to listen so much. If she was to lead, then she did not want to learn to serve. "You will keep me informed. She is to be of use to me, therefore I should know everything too." She didn't give her father time to respond as she left the room. He would obey. Her parents had learned very quickly the effects of the powers they had given her.
"No! You forget what we are, what you are. We were not supposed to have others of our blood. We gave them up to have you and you are all we hoped for. But now we have her too. It is a gift. And anyway we cannot afford to risk exposure now. You are too young. You must learn so much more. But when the time is right, our blood and that of the ancient line of her mother... they will give you more power than we ever dreamed you'd have. You must learn patience Alyson. For now we will continue to watch her."
"Is this what this is? Your observations?" she asked, waving a parchment around, the only reason she'd discovered this little secret at all. "When were you going to tell me you had fucked another woman? That I wasn't your only daughter? I wasn't supposed to see this at all, was I father? She was going to be your little secret, a back up in case I didn't work out." The anger had returned, though the voice remained calm. She'd never had a traditional relationship with her parents. The Bloodwynes loved for show and the public only. In the privacy of their home, the relationship was purely businesslike. They had made her for one purpose and one purpose only. Until she could fulfill that potential, she was to be taught and managed effectively. Her job was to learn and listen, but as she grew older and learned more, she found she didn't want to listen so much. If she was to lead, then she did not want to learn to serve. "You will keep me informed. She is to be of use to me, therefore I should know everything too." She didn't give her father time to respond as she left the room. He would obey. Her parents had learned very quickly the effects of the powers they had given her.
January 2016
"How did you even get into Hogwarts?!"
"Squib!"
"Fucking freak! What kind of witch can't even cast a basic Lumos?!"
"Inbred bitch!"
Alyson stared blankly letting the insults wash over her. She'd been at Hogwarts for almost six months now but the taunts had started only weeks after she'd arrived. She was an embarrassment to her Pureblood name in her own house of Slytherin and Gryffindors were gleeful at how pathetic she was in any class that required actual spell work. It wasn't that she didn't want to, she would give anything to hex their petty mouths shut, but as soon as she held her wand and muttered the words, there was a rush that ran through her and then nothing else happened.
She'd asked her parents that very first week, but even with all their knowledge of the Ritual they had used to create her, this flummoxed them. She was supposed to be all powerful. They had thought she was when she had drained the life from her nanny when she was just a babe. Had continued to think so as she developed an unnatural connection to the runes, able to control the shadows as well as they could after decades of practice. Had assumed that she would be the most powerful witch in centuries when she attended Hogwarts. Instead they had been confronted with this. A witch in name but not in practice.
Even her teachers had been flummoxed. She was on the list and the list was not wrong. She was not a Squib or she wouldn't have received her letter. But she couldn't make any spell work. At first they'd tried to tell her she must be doing something wrong, bad pronunciation or wand movements, but even they were forced to admit that she could do those perfectly. It was just as if the Magical energy disappeared before it could form. There was nothing they could do but hope it would resolve itself in time. Perhaps Alyson was just a late bloomer. She would learn the theory in the meantime. And she was proving excellent in other subjects such as Potions and Ancient Runes. There was no need to do anything drastic just yet.
"Squib!"
"Fucking freak! What kind of witch can't even cast a basic Lumos?!"
"Inbred bitch!"
Alyson stared blankly letting the insults wash over her. She'd been at Hogwarts for almost six months now but the taunts had started only weeks after she'd arrived. She was an embarrassment to her Pureblood name in her own house of Slytherin and Gryffindors were gleeful at how pathetic she was in any class that required actual spell work. It wasn't that she didn't want to, she would give anything to hex their petty mouths shut, but as soon as she held her wand and muttered the words, there was a rush that ran through her and then nothing else happened.
She'd asked her parents that very first week, but even with all their knowledge of the Ritual they had used to create her, this flummoxed them. She was supposed to be all powerful. They had thought she was when she had drained the life from her nanny when she was just a babe. Had continued to think so as she developed an unnatural connection to the runes, able to control the shadows as well as they could after decades of practice. Had assumed that she would be the most powerful witch in centuries when she attended Hogwarts. Instead they had been confronted with this. A witch in name but not in practice.
Even her teachers had been flummoxed. She was on the list and the list was not wrong. She was not a Squib or she wouldn't have received her letter. But she couldn't make any spell work. At first they'd tried to tell her she must be doing something wrong, bad pronunciation or wand movements, but even they were forced to admit that she could do those perfectly. It was just as if the Magical energy disappeared before it could form. There was nothing they could do but hope it would resolve itself in time. Perhaps Alyson was just a late bloomer. She would learn the theory in the meantime. And she was proving excellent in other subjects such as Potions and Ancient Runes. There was no need to do anything drastic just yet.
18th December 2017
They had mocked her openly for years. Couldn’t see that it wasn’t that she wasn’t powerful enough, but the opposite. She wasn’t ready yet, but there would come a day when she would show them the true meaning of Bloodborne. And as she took another curse from that golden haired Gryffindor, she made a vow that it would be him that would start her descent to the Shadows.
It hadn’t taken much in the end. For all his brave words and laughter, a touch had been enough to subdue him, his skin turning cold and grey, his magic faltering. Now he stared at her, looking closer to her thirteen years than his own sixteen, and she sneered as he whimpered when he saw where he was. The Ritual was elegant in its, basic in its needs.
The body of his younger sister lay in pieces to the side, her blood creating the runes around his own body. After all, blood was thicker than water and would provide the strong bond she needed for this to succeed.
Alyson cocked her head to the side, studying her masterpiece to ensure everything was in place. She could not afford for this to go wrong. One chance would be all she had. Satisfied, she stalked forward, long thin blade in hand and, without a word, slid it into the boys eye. His screams washed over her, soothing her, encouraging her to continue. She repeated this with the other eye, her voice chanting tonelessly, mixing with the traumatised sounds of her victim. Her fingers dipped into his ruined eyes, and using the fluids on her fingers she traced two runes over her own eyes. Satisfied, she turned the knife onto herself and with one last glance at the Forest around her, pierced them. The entry of the blade was quick and precise, not deep enough to enter the soft tissue of her brain, but, she smirked as her vision dimmed, enough to sacrifice her sight for something much greater.
Her chanting rose to a fever pitch and as darkness consumed her sight, she reached forward to place her thumbs in her victims sockets and pressed in even as she breathed in deeply and felt his life force flowing through her. When it at last sputtered out and his last breath fell with a wheeze from his body, Alyson stood, her aura thrumming with new energy, eyes healing from their stab wounds though they would never see naturally again.
It hadn’t taken much in the end. For all his brave words and laughter, a touch had been enough to subdue him, his skin turning cold and grey, his magic faltering. Now he stared at her, looking closer to her thirteen years than his own sixteen, and she sneered as he whimpered when he saw where he was. The Ritual was elegant in its, basic in its needs.
The body of his younger sister lay in pieces to the side, her blood creating the runes around his own body. After all, blood was thicker than water and would provide the strong bond she needed for this to succeed.
Alyson cocked her head to the side, studying her masterpiece to ensure everything was in place. She could not afford for this to go wrong. One chance would be all she had. Satisfied, she stalked forward, long thin blade in hand and, without a word, slid it into the boys eye. His screams washed over her, soothing her, encouraging her to continue. She repeated this with the other eye, her voice chanting tonelessly, mixing with the traumatised sounds of her victim. Her fingers dipped into his ruined eyes, and using the fluids on her fingers she traced two runes over her own eyes. Satisfied, she turned the knife onto herself and with one last glance at the Forest around her, pierced them. The entry of the blade was quick and precise, not deep enough to enter the soft tissue of her brain, but, she smirked as her vision dimmed, enough to sacrifice her sight for something much greater.
Her chanting rose to a fever pitch and as darkness consumed her sight, she reached forward to place her thumbs in her victims sockets and pressed in even as she breathed in deeply and felt his life force flowing through her. When it at last sputtered out and his last breath fell with a wheeze from his body, Alyson stood, her aura thrumming with new energy, eyes healing from their stab wounds though they would never see naturally again.
---
It didn't take much to bloody herself up, sacrifice was habitual to her at this point, a few well placed bruises and cuts and then she fled the Forest, screaming for help. When the teachers found her half dead looking in the grounds, they immediately sent out a search party only to find the poor Woodcolke children, brutally murdered. Her face made the papers for weeks after. Three students caught in a bloody ritual that had killed two of them and left the last one permanently blind and weakened. It had almost been too easy. The school that had been on the brink of kicking her out due to a complete inability to perform basic magic spells, now bending over backwards to make sure she could continue her education. Mosrael brings darkness to the Wizarding World when she is 15. Alyson stays in the Shadows as her parents swiftly declare allegiance, are sworn in to the highest ranks of the Sentinels, ecstatic to once more be fighting for their cause. She takes notes on the failures and successes of Mosrael's dark reign. In private, she embraces the shadows that are born from the darkness, they have long been her friends, and revels in the terror that rules the nights. At school, she is as terrified as the others, a poor sick child helpless against this evil, playing her part until the very end.
19th August 2021
“Mother, you will not come back if you fight for her,” Alyson warned, her unseeing eyes staring right at Anastasia. She didn’t know why she bothered. Her sight did not give her potential outcomes but certain ones. If future events were uncertain, then she could not see them. This vision had been as clear as day. Mosrael would fall. And Alyson had no intention of falling too.
“She is our Leader. We do as she bids.” Anastasia’s words were wholly predictable.
“And why did you make me then Anastasia?” Alyson asked in her childlike voice. “Why create this if not to follow it?”
Her mother scoffed. “You are but an infant, not yet re-” she choked off as her daughter's hand rested casually on her arm.
Alyson smirked and released her grip. Words were not needed, were wasted on her parents ears. They would fight. Her mother would die. But not her. She had a bigger destiny than to die in the cold shadows of Castle Innvar.
She had been going to use little Rowena as a substitute, but there had been no time. Mosrael would fall tonight and Alyson had no intention of letting the void of Leadership go unanswered. She would not only take Mosrael's place, but improve it, a true movement of the Pure. Let the world see what real power could do. But to do that, she needed the last piece of the puzzle. She needed to complete the Shadow Bind.
She had been preparing for weeks, ever since she had seen the Fall. And now her pieces were ready.
"You know what you need to do," she said coldly to her elderly family members and they nodded. In some ways this was the greatest honour, their lives would be given meaning and through this, their names would live on forever. They did not doubt their grand daughter would succeed. They had seen what she was becoming, they knew of her origins. That so many had failed this Ritual did not factor, for she was Bloodborne and that surely would change the outcome. Their chanting began and Alyson moved to the centre of the triangle, joining her childlike voice to theirs.
The hours passed and the moon rose casting shadows through the windows. And as the voices reached feverpitch, the shadows moved, converging from their original hosts towards the frail figure in the middle. Alyson's voice silenced and her mouth opened in intense pain as a pressure rose inside her, threatening to explode her from the inside out. And yet she prevailed, pushing herself up, and taking the knife from its position beside her. She sliced her wrists, the blood pooling out not red but black and she forced herself to resume chanting as she moved to each grandparent and traced a rune on each forehead in her darkened blood. Weakened with blood loss, she dragged herself back to the centre and reached out with her arms.
As the final words left her lips she pulled inwards, her aura tightening and as she did so, the life left her sacrifices and rushed into her, returning her strength in a way that only a Bloodborne could do. For a second, she could see again, the light, though dim, blinding her so used to darkness as she was, and then it was gone and all returned to normal and she fell in a heap to the ground, blood from them all pooling and mixing around her.
“She is our Leader. We do as she bids.” Anastasia’s words were wholly predictable.
“And why did you make me then Anastasia?” Alyson asked in her childlike voice. “Why create this if not to follow it?”
Her mother scoffed. “You are but an infant, not yet re-” she choked off as her daughter's hand rested casually on her arm.
Alyson smirked and released her grip. Words were not needed, were wasted on her parents ears. They would fight. Her mother would die. But not her. She had a bigger destiny than to die in the cold shadows of Castle Innvar.
---
Alyson returned to the chamber she'd prepared earlier and was greeted by the sight of her three living grandparents bound at the points of the triangle traced in blood on the floor. They stared at her with a sort of grim resignation as if they'd always known this day would someday come. The day they would die to release a greater power than they had ever known. Alyson supposed that they'd expected it since her grandfather had also attempted this Ritual and not for the first time she cursed his selfishness. Ideally she would have had all four as a gift to the shadows. The purest blood of her ancient families in exchange for the power of the Shadows. She had been going to use little Rowena as a substitute, but there had been no time. Mosrael would fall tonight and Alyson had no intention of letting the void of Leadership go unanswered. She would not only take Mosrael's place, but improve it, a true movement of the Pure. Let the world see what real power could do. But to do that, she needed the last piece of the puzzle. She needed to complete the Shadow Bind.
She had been preparing for weeks, ever since she had seen the Fall. And now her pieces were ready.
"You know what you need to do," she said coldly to her elderly family members and they nodded. In some ways this was the greatest honour, their lives would be given meaning and through this, their names would live on forever. They did not doubt their grand daughter would succeed. They had seen what she was becoming, they knew of her origins. That so many had failed this Ritual did not factor, for she was Bloodborne and that surely would change the outcome. Their chanting began and Alyson moved to the centre of the triangle, joining her childlike voice to theirs.
The hours passed and the moon rose casting shadows through the windows. And as the voices reached feverpitch, the shadows moved, converging from their original hosts towards the frail figure in the middle. Alyson's voice silenced and her mouth opened in intense pain as a pressure rose inside her, threatening to explode her from the inside out. And yet she prevailed, pushing herself up, and taking the knife from its position beside her. She sliced her wrists, the blood pooling out not red but black and she forced herself to resume chanting as she moved to each grandparent and traced a rune on each forehead in her darkened blood. Weakened with blood loss, she dragged herself back to the centre and reached out with her arms.
As the final words left her lips she pulled inwards, her aura tightening and as she did so, the life left her sacrifices and rushed into her, returning her strength in a way that only a Bloodborne could do. For a second, she could see again, the light, though dim, blinding her so used to darkness as she was, and then it was gone and all returned to normal and she fell in a heap to the ground, blood from them all pooling and mixing around her.
She is thrown into the fireplace just as a dark presence begins to stir deep in her mind.
