Disclaimer: I own nothing, really… how unfortunately.
A/N: Just a thought, really. I might continue to write on it. I'm still writing a few more chapters for "Youthful". I'll eventually change its title. Ta-ta for now.
Torrent Flames
The fire's warmth was upon him now. It illuminated the room with its wild flames: shadows stretched against polished wood. He could feel the flickering flames' untamed energy.
It captivated him: enchanted him with a queer magnetism. He could not explain it, nor did he seek to, for a distinct fear of breaking this odd bond or more so relationship between man and fire. Yet, even through his challenging perspective, these foreign sentimental thoughts sounded ludicrous, even to him. But then, when didn't sentimentality seem ridiculous, if not trivial and moronic.
Though, it remained. Never questioned, rarely doubted, and never known by anyone but his reclusive self being. As though, that was surprising.
His slender hands grasped the glass with a nervous ease. The liquid within the perimeter of the sophisticated piece glass work shown a dark bloodstain red, but concealed by the shadows cast by the radiating light. Yet graceful and familiar to him. This familiarity, however, placed a dread upon his uneasy soul.
Raising the surprisingly cool glass to his rose lips, he closed his eyes and drank. The flames flickered its last moment of life as it was abruptly extinguished. His eyes snapped open and he rapidly lowered the wine glass from his lips: he set it upon the finely polished redwood table in front of him. His wild eyes moved rapid upon the room. Investigating its darkness, he saw nothing within the room's darkness. It was, however, expected. Nothingness. It settled his troubled mind (if only for a brief moment).
Luthor rose from his seat, his eyes lingered, for a brief period of time, upon the once occupied stone fireplace. An eerie silence laid over the room like a thick blanket of darkness. A quick shadow laid grace upon the hardwood flooring before disappearing into the dark of the night.
An unannounced lapse of wind assaulted him from the rear. Lex quickly turned to its wake and what felt to be numerous of hands, barbarically shoved him. Causing him to trip, his fragile skull hit against the solid wood of the coffee table.
The sound of breaking glass was the last of noise he heard before his world descended into the black he so secretly feared.
A/N: This is where I remain you to review. As bad as I think this particular piece of fiction is, I do enjoy it when you review. Humor me, willyou? -.-;