Morrigan toyed with the curls in his hair, sending out tiny pulses of static to assess the bruising. She needed to be more careful. With that kind of internal bleeding, Tyler could end up in trouble. He didn't complain, which she considered a good sign. The blood vessels slowly repaired themselves in a tedious, but effective process. He drifted in and out of sleep while she waited patiently.
When his eyes finally closed, she stood, grabbed her cane and walked toward the entrance of the room. She heard a voice as she entered the hallway, but couldn't place where it came from. She turned and found herself before a presence in the static. At first, she wanted to run. She stood her ground after sensing the wards in place all around her.
Whatever it was couldn't truly be there. She listed the possibilities in her mind, but none matched up. It was no illusion. Something was there, and yet there was nothing there at all. She controlled her breathing, staring blankly into the void. She had to stifle a scream when a flash of red light appeared, engulfing her body, or at least her mind. She slammed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, she saw endless weaves of red hair.
"I can see?" she said, scanning her surroundings until her eyes rested on an unnaturally tall woman. Where her mouth should be was nothing but alabaster skin. She floated as if adrift in a sea of wind. Morrigan didn't know whether to grovel, or flee in terror.
The Maiden drifted toward her. Her mannerisms appearing to be friendly. Her long arms danced through the air, reaching out to Morrigan. Morrigan froze, still unsure of what to do. She wanted to fight if need be, but how could she? The Maiden was so much more than Morrigan could ever hope to be. Morrigan complied, raising a hand to accept whatever awaited her.
The Maiden took Morrigan's hand, wrapped her fingers around it. then lightly pressed her index finger against Morrigan's forehead. Something changed, but Morrigan couldn't figure out what it was. The Maiden brushed a hand across Morrigan's arm, and the red threads that stained Morrigan's body grew, wrapping around and extending down to her wrist.
Morrigan felt goosebumps rise, but only where the red words were written. At that moment, the maiden was gone. Morrigan watched as her vision faded away, chasing after The Maiden in a futile attempt to prolong her stay. It was strange. The Maiden's eyes, they looked angry. Morrigan had a fleeting thought. The Maiden gave her a message.
Morrigan stopped, finding herself alone in the dark once more. The vision of the goddess vanished, leaving Morrigan to her thoughts, as always. Was it true? She lightly brushed against the crimson marks on her arm. She took a sharp breath. She tore the blouse from her body, tracing along the endless trail of reddish thread with her fingers in a mad race to verify what she just felt.
Tears waited to fall. She gasped for breath as her hands danced across her arm; to her shoulder then her clavicle and breast. When she reached her stomach she gave a light smile. She felt words written in Braille.
The flood came, the words forming in her mind. The smile stretched further across her face as her heart swelled. The words skipped without form, the mutterings of a poet lost in love. Morrigan even found her name written among the clutter.
"You love me," Morrigan cried, "after all I have done?"
Fits of Morrigan's quivering, mad laughter echoed out of the hall. She tried not to notice, but a thought crept in seeking to shatter that fragile moment; a realization. She pushed it back, but as it is with every thought: Once addressed, it's far too late.
"Oh," she began. She trembled as the revelation turned tears of fiery passion to those of the deepest blue, "please, not like this." Morrigan managed only a single word in the violent flurry of sobs that followed: "Why?"
The marks etched into their her skin were not commandments laid down by her eldritch goddess. They were not orders to be followed, nor demands to be met. Morrigan read and reread her sea of red words, finding nothing but love letters signed and sealed in flesh. Their voiceless goddess chose to take the time in her own words to address Morrigan, and Morrigan alone. The words were nonsensical, impossible to speak. Gemma was wrong, perhaps she was wrong about being chosen as well.
Those who follow the maiden always lived in a world indifferent to their existence. For a moment, however, these words acted as proof of the opposite. That's when the truth sank in. Their goddess chose to write of her love, to praise her worshipers of their accomplishments. Despite this, so many were slaughtered, believing that these words were so much more. Their friends, lovers, and family were killed in the name of a lie. It was a lie, even Morrigan believed.
Morrigan wiped the tears from her eyes, muffled her weeping, and tried to recompose herself. She pondered why, slipping the blouse back on in the most delicate of motions. It covered a work of art, after all.
Morrigan turned and stormed out of the room, down the hall, and knocked on Damon's office door. When he opened it, he stank of liquor, but Morrigan didn't have the time to care.
"Morrigan? Have you been crying?"
"I have to go." Morrigan replied.
"Go?"
"It's only a matter of time before this gets worse. We're being hunted. Tyler will be in good hands." Morrigan felt the urge to move, to begin laying out her plan and setting it into action.
Damon shook his head, "You're not thinking of-"
"I am. Will you assist me or not?"
Damon allowed Morrigan inside, rushing over to a bottle and pouring a freshly emptied glass, "I don't really see how I have a choice. What do you need?"
"Blood." she said, taking a deep breath, "I need as much blood as you give me."
"That's not an easy thing to do. What for?"
"To claim my right as matron of the cult, I need to take a pilgrimage. The Maiden came to me. I think this is what she wants."
"How-" Damon began, then sighed. "Where do you need to go?"
"The pilgrimage requires me to venture to the very domain of The Maiden, herself. I must pass her tests."
"How much blood are we talking?" Damon asked.
"Aproximately thirty-five to forty gallons, and I'll need to raid the roses on the campus."
Damon sat in his chair. Morrigan heard the pen as he jotted down every word. When he finished, he cleared his throat, "Obviously that's going to take a day or two, but I owe you too many favors at this point to say no."
Ooh. 2 chapters in a single day! Awesome. I like the switch to Morrigan's perspective here. There are only a few small things to note, beginning at the top. The phrasing of you stating she played with the curls of his hair followed by mentioning her sending out the static in a single sentence is a bit confusing as it suggests the actions are related while I believe it's more of a "Morrigan is doing this while she's doing this too" situation. I like the appearance of the Red Maiden, it's also interesting because you seem to be using the Red Maiden as a symbolic representation of diverging paths. Her appearance split the cult. A "false" appearance(in the form of Gemma) almost split Tyler and Morrigan. Now, Morrigan is diverging from Tyler's path following the appearance of the Red Maiden. An interesting symbol, likely layered with meaning as that suggests blood -- which you seem to draw a connection between her and blood -- more so represents the idea of relationships and how they may have to be sacrificed. Beyond that, there's way more I could attempt to comprehend, but I'm a bit too distracted to try. Your formatting in this chapter is a bit weird with a whole bunch of double enter lines mixed in with the standard single enter lines. Last thing to note: you've chosen to not use vision when you are written from Morrigan's perspective. A respectable choice, however, it has one major fault in that I can't picture anything about Morrigan's skin markings. I can draw conclusions about what the lines along her ligaments look like, but the whole braille on her stomach(I think? I can't really remember) and the work of art, as Morrigan calls it, are really hard to imagine. I would assume that you can still have Morrigan describe it. Even if she can't describe the appearance, you should give a little bit more to the reader. Other than that, loved it. It was a nice change of perspective as well as alluding to further action/horror in the coming chapter. It also sets up the stage for an interesting point in Tyler and Morrigan's relationship by suggesting their paths may split for a time. Beyond that, I appreciate getting 2 chapters in a single day! Awesome. Keep up with the awesome work!