MISTRESS

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Tag: occult

  • The Adamantine Ficron. [4/?]

    Its existence was an enigma. The brilliant, glassy surface of the biface’s blade seemed to enclose the cosmos, glittering even in the absence of light. The rough, cloudy base fit so snugly in Doctor Grau’s palm that it felt as though it had been carved for her hand alone. As soon as she touched it, she could sense the odious magic contained within its impossible edge. The intentions of its creator had long since been forgotten, but there was no mistaking it—this curious tool would easily cut through the bindings of her imperfect vessel.

    What brought her to those crumbling ruins? Somewhere within her addled brains, she felt the pull of a distant memory; it beckoned her from the shadows of a thousand ancient lifetimes. She had never set foot there, and yet she knew the location intuitively. The worn stones of its crypt had a peculiar familiarity that drew her deeper, as if welcoming her back from a long absence. Unable to discern her own experiences from those bestowed by her benefactor, Doctor Grau allowed herself to be led.

    As the shadow inside her took the reins, she felt a pitch black calm envelop her mind, folding it into a darkness devoid of the chaos and noise that gnawed at her thoughts for so many years. In that moment, suddenly alone in the vast silence, she found herself filled with relief. There was fear, as well, knowing that this seduction would soon conclude with the complete surrender of her body, but it was tempered with the knowledge that these earthly concerns were only temporary.

    The Doctor’s finest operation was the excision of her soul. Removing it with the ficron and encasing it in a phylactery of her own creation, Hildegard Grau ceased to exist. Something else now resided within her corporeal form: A wet, writhing mass that possessed all of her memories and knowledge, but none of her mortal weaknesses. As it devoured the remains of her fractured mind, it made a nest within her hollowed skull, extending its tentacles throughout every inch of her body. Its burning ichor filled her, changing her, and they became one.

    It decided to be reborn as Grizelda, knowing its patience would be rewarded.

  • Quick Time Event.

    • As you round the corner, you hear the sound of wet footsteps quickly approaching from behind. You turn and raise your torch, but the crackling flame reveals only the same empty, windowless hallway you just traversed. Are your ears playing tricks on you…?

    • You feel something slimy dripping onto your shoulder. An icy chill climbs your spine as your gaze shoots upward.

    • Necrow roars with laughter as his melting frame drops from above! There’s only a split-second to react!

    PARRY ⭆ ((Ⓧ)) ⭅ ◔ ⭆ ((Ⓑ)) ⭅ EVADE

  • The Hunger. [3/?]

    After her unmooring, Doctor Grau’s mind evolved. Alien voices spoke to her in languages lost to time, yet she understood their words as fluently as if they were in her own tongue. They regaled her with the secret mathematics and fundamental truths of the universe, and a great many things were suddenly clear and known. A veil had been lifted; her frigid eyes beheld this starkly illuminated world with strange desire.

    The limits of her flesh quickly became evident as her blessing burned through her. Mortal minds are ill-equipped for such burdens, their architecture unsuitable for the weight of absolute knowledge. As madness gripped her, a bottomless hunger sprang forth. Her lust was fearsome and all-encompassing; every sensation had become synonymous with pleasure. Doctor Grau discovered within herself a particularly ravenous appetite for pain, reveling in its diverse flavors as they spread across her newly awakened palate. Her body demanded abuse, and so she obliged it with a parade of degradations—all in pursuit of the rapture that swallowed her when skin stretched and tore, muscles bruised and blackened, bones cracked and ached. Her appetite grew, and as it did, a twisted grin became etched into her visage. Each experiment brought her agonizingly close to transcendence, but the answer continued to remain just beyond the reach of her bloodied, outstretched fingers.

    The missing element was not something that could be found within. The administration of her own treatments had provided much insight, but lacked the clinical discipline necessary for such esoteric research. To satisfy her craving, she found that test subjects were imperative. In wartime, these were plentiful, and no matter how many drunken revelers, vagrants, or invalids disappeared into her secluded laboratory, questions were seldom asked. The world was already drowning in death and sickness; what were a few more drops in this black ocean? The sum of their flesh was greater upon her altar.

    Only the Night Mother witnessed her, and Doctor Grau took her silence as tacit approval.

    Continue…

  • Mark of Glory. [2/?]

    Years had passed since her exile from the halls of academia. As plague and war cut a swath through civilization, Doctor Grau had little trouble finding an abandoned structure to hide and further her research. Sheltered from prying eyes, her experiments had begun to tap into otherworldly forces that were far beyond her comprehension. Standing at the lip of this chasm of knowledge, she embraced the void, plunging into the abyss.

    There was no turning back. The research consumed her, and as days slipped away, she realized that sleep was nothing more than a distraction from her goals. Something inside her mind had broken loose, and as its jagged edges shredded what was left of her sanity, a different person emerged. The light in her eyes had been swallowed by an icy darkness, and what little compassion may have once existed there sank forever into its infinite depths.

    To truly understand her theurgic craft, Doctor Grau made her own mind the subject of her next experiment. In a rare moment of submission, she laid herself bare to the demonic power that obsessed her, eager for its foul blessing. And so it gladly accommodated her: Ten thousand years of arcane enlightenment flooded her skull as an exquisite pain penetrated her soul. Pressing its ethereal member against her brains, it branded her forehead with an eye opened, never blinking, to honor her awakening. Her seared flesh screamed, but her heart felt only the ecstacy of unbounded pleasure.

    Continue…

  • Hildegard Grau. [1/?]

    Before she traded her soul for immortality, the Mistress was known as Doctor Hildegard Grau, practitioner of medical arts. Though medical science as we know it today is quite advanced, the Old Ways were crude and unproven. Simple maladies were often treated with superstitions and phials of swill. Complicated ailments were cured with the bonesaw. Doctor Grau decided to follow a less orthodox path, studying a new branch of medicine involving the dissection of patients as they live and breathe, manipulating their innards to achieve the healthful outcome. Surgery was regarded with suspicion in those days, but it was hard to argue with the results.

    Doctor Grau quickly mastered the scalpel and the needle, and before long, she developed a reputation as a habitual rule-breaker amongst the medical community. Eager to explore her passion, she began to perform unconventional treatments in limb grafting and organ replacement on the infirm. Few of her peers had her academic expertise, and most were hesitant to question her revolutionary methods in public, but privately, they seethed. They saw her ambitions as perverse, a stain on their noble profession. As Doctor Grau pushed the boundaries of their field, they felt the limits of their knowledge weigh heavy on their pride. In hindsight, their decision to shun her and banish her work would be recognized as the first step on her path of ascension.

    Free to pursue her whims, and no longer bound by rules or precedent, the Doctor decided to blend her studies. Alchemic and occult wisdom became sources of profound interest, and as her research deepened, so too did her seclusion. Once hopeful to help mankind with the tip of her knife, her jaded heart now sought to remake it.

    Continue…

  • Holistic Medicine.

    Always approach the treatment of the patient in a comprehensive way. When the outside and the inside are cared for with a mind towards unity, the therapy has a much better chance of yielding a favorable outcome.

    Some physical reconfiguration may be required for optimal results.

  • Invasive Procedure.

    Every once in a while, when things get really hot and heavy in the summoning circle, Grizelda’s eyes can outpace her stomach. The good news is that there’s just an empty cavity where that stomach used to be. The bad news is that a lapse in judgement like this is almost certainly gonna pop a few stitches.

    Another learning opportunity for an immortal. At least this one should be over soon, right?

    …Er, right?

  • Erective Surgery.

    With enough suture filament and the right incantations, Grizelda can graft just about anything.

    Careful, you’re looking like a particularly attractive test subject tonight…

  • Infested Host.

    Unless summoned by an experienced practitioner of the dark arts, demon flesh will quickly consume its human host. A constant source of blood is required to maintain this symbiosis; without it, the flesh will multiply uncontrollably before devouring itself.

  • Demon Flesh.

    “Don’t you know how a summoning circle works, mortal?! Flesh for flesh! And your flesh is ours now… 

    “Hmm… This vessel is empty, and we are so very, very hungry…”