>> |
02/29/12(Wed)23:12 No.18156355>>18155945 >This was particularly challenging for me, I hope you like it
It is cold, tonight. I can see bumps on her pale flesh, her cheeks like succulent sanguine. From her trembling lips she breaths mist, fading to shadows against the frozen gusts. Her tattered cloth sack is useless against the primal elements; her bare feet more raw with every step through the wood. Only her golden hair provides any respite, falling like silk curtains around her crescent-moon face. Were she any other mortal, the pitiful appearance of this little girl would have intoxicated me, the scent of her agony like honeyed apples. But she holds the staff, and with that my servitude. “Mistress, it would be wise to seek shelter for the evening,” I inform her, “Your death would be most inconvenient for us both.” Her pace continues, ignoring my suggestion. She is a strange mortal, this little girl. Her will is matched only by her stubbornness, and both far exceed that of my masters before me. It reminds me of the warlock who sought to permanently seal my servitude to him, despite all warnings from his cabal. His soul held more sins of greed than any other I had seen before or since. It was delicious. My thoughts are interrupted as the little girl stops her stride. “It is cold, Baal’ith,” she says, “Carry me.” I scoop the girl up into my arms and gently caress her as I seek shelter in the ancient oaks around us. To my surprise, I stumble across an elder tree within the forest. The hollowed out trunk is devoid of its previous occupants. I bring the girl into the cave, and shield her from the elements as she drifts to sleep. I watch her chest rise and fall with each breath, and I tuck her more closely against my fetid frame. After one thousand years of damnation, I believed myself to be devoid of emotion. Then again, I suppose love comes to us when we least expect it. |