Hello all! Whether you are a new reader or are here to read the revised edition of my old story, welcome! In case you didn't know, this is a completely overhauled version of my old fic, Spark. The old version will be taken down in a week, so read it while you can. Or rather, don't. It really was terrible.
DD owns all books/characters. Or Roshaun would be back by now.
Enjoy!
Hate. Hate and cruelty and spite. This was what He lived on, preserved, and filled His mind with. He filled His days with causing more of each and wreaking havoc on Their, His pathetic enemies', worlds and universes. He hated and despised anything good and warm, He lived and believed only in the dark and cold.
One late hour, as He was sitting in a human form, His eyes closed, He glimpsed something. A flash of something.
He opened His eyes and saw nothing.
He closed them again, and again a flash darted by, filling His mind with a burning. It burned, but somehow burned in a perfect, painfully brilliant way. Every time He closed His eyes, He saw the spark. It was golden and beautiful, and over time He grew accustomed to seeing it. Though He did not want to, somehow would rather die than admit it, He loved that spark, that flash of piercing goodness. The look of it, and the feeling, the knowledge that he loved it, burned His mind and soul, but He could do nothing but love it. It was odd, not knowing what it was that He loved. He knew only that there was something it that spark, something that matched Him, yet defied Him. Some aspect of that spark was Him, yet in all other ways was not.
One of His many enemies was all she was, thwarting Him, slowing His creation. He despised her, hated her, tried to end her again and again. Why could He not? Why, every time He tried, could He not seem to end this one? Never had He failed so often, defeated by this one pathetic being. Why her?
Then, as He gazed down upon her, about to attempt to destroy His adversary as He had tried so many times before, and almost wearily excepting failure, He noticed something. In her eyes. A flash. A spark of determination and defiance that burned his soul. His spark. The last place He had expected to see His spark, His beloved flash of light, was in Nita Callahan's eyes.