The alluring, beguiling scrape of temptation bade her to play a foolish game, treacherous, dangerous devilry, the slashing, ripping opus of a puissant scythe. Hushed, decadent silence pervaded his arcane, reticent rapier sorcery, the warlock doldrums of discordant fire, fueled by malevolence, incised, incensed by loathing. Diabolical pariah harbored sinister strife, bestowed the irrepressible, eldritch pose, prose and poise; forsaken, renounced and relinquished to the eaves of destruction, the engulfing allure of vile, stained carnivore resplendence. He tore amongst flesh and mutinied against heaven, slid sin into virtuous intrigue and corrupted shades of morality until the edges of their ivory veils became tainted threads of extermination, final breaths tarnishing severed strings. Stitched seams of irreverent, wicked munitions, minatory intrigue, severe, sinister horror touched, caressed, possessed the arches of the stranger’s lungs, the heated, molten core of her veins, the struggling, beloved heart striving to beat within her chest. Distorted debauchery, savory, rapacious grandeur, severed, clawed, heinously clambering into the ducts of life and threatening to ruin it all, devour precious chords, demolish and dispose infant ferocity with the swinging plunge of his own savage knives. In his silent candor, he suffused the earth with nefarious incantations, Tartarean guile, Stygian invocations, supremacy in the boughs and parlors of intrusion, toxic, venomous potency: carving a segment of dominance in the haunted convictions of a soulless being. He watched it all, feral, bestial witness, and showed nothing but the unreadable statue-esque countenance of a satanic entity, beautiful and diseased. When she crumpled, he did nothing. When she screamed, he did nothing. When she lain frozen against the dried, acrid earth, he did nothing. He watched, the harsh scope of his predacious gaze absorbing the scene, appeased by the ache of her body, the plunging cries of righteousness begging for assuage. Sliding inside his black heart was naught but the intense satisfaction of an enemy waylaid, diamonds destroyed, distorted, contorted, in the feverish plunge of his menacing, forbidding mayhem. How much further could he go, until she too, was a wraith? Until she was eternally spent, lungs collapsed, soul ruined?
He is not given the opportunity. The glacial sovereign ushered one harsh, authoritative command, and the debauched cretin is forced to obey. Demon scion or not, loyalty, the only thing he could claim along the embroidered Edge, had a more influential dominion than the harking murmur of murder. Reaper’s breath, calamity in the rancorous fringe of his blade, receded, drawn back into his unearthly shell. Controlled, subdued and repressed, he glanced back at the ice leader and nearly shrugged. Artful, cool detachment pooled amongst his prowess, the audacious slate of indifference and nonchalance. Why should he care about a foolish twit who couldn’t fathom the notion of trespassing? “She was warned.” His grating growl seared and simmered amongst the bitter heat, along the scene of potential carnage and catacombs. He’s tempted to leave her there altogether, to be buried amongst the dunes in her unconscious turmoil, to rot, burn, wither and decay in the salacious, sultry warmth. Perhaps that was what the ignorant and foolish deserved, to learn from erroneous tidings or be heralded to an early grave with no eulogies to lead them to purgatory.
Yet, before they have further time to dwell on the matter, another makes their presence known. The unfamiliar scent, the incredulous, brazen motions only served to announce some other wretched youth, idiotic and demanding. Were they all like this: wanton, petulant children? His fiendish bones and sinew, fresh, vigorous, virile muscles, are almost lured to attack again, to show the tiresome wretches where they truly belonged, smothered and suffocated in the brine of their stupidity, in the rise of their ineptitude. How easy it would be to coax another to their tomb, crying, weeping, and ultimately shattered, silent in their suffering until the abrupt end. But this one – this ebon creature had something else conjured amongst her annoying, tiresome body, he was almost sure of it. Narrowing his stare, leveling the ferocious, barbarian gleam of ice and blue unto the obsidian femme, he delivered his own ominous augur, of unsaid threats, of unspoken warnings, of unsung hazards that could befall her too if his words were not marked as credence. “Take her away.”
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