She was walking up on a rocy path that led to the mouth of the volcano. She had remembered the life she had she had before her cruel time on earth. The life of an angel and the life of a fallen being, the life of a satan and her life within her twin brother. She had finaly remembered the object of her desire, her forbiden love. Now she was making her way back home, back to Hell.
She walked up to the side of the volcano opening. Molten lava, bright orange as the scarlet leaves of the autumn leaves, the colour of his hair, was pulsing in the deep pit. Facing the connection between Earth and Hell, she looked back as if uncertain of her decision. She had someone who would love and cherish her here on Earth, the man she had met during her stay on Earth. If she were to forget her past memories, she could just turn back and live here happily as a human. However she did not wish for it. The bond between twins was pulling, chocking and tourturing her to return to her other half's side. And no matter what the man here on earth could offer, no matter the hard and painfull memories of the life with her brother, she did not want to stay here, for what she felt for her brother was far more than just a sibling bond...
She faced the opening once more, and with a small smile gracing her lips, she fell tomeet the hot flames.
In the distance a desperete man's voice calld for her to stop...
He had been uneasy all week. For the first time in his long life a week had seemed s long. There was something nnuging him, pulling him to go and do something. What? and Why? He forced himself to ignore this feeling wishing it to pass. It repaid him by sleepless nights making him toss in his bed waking him up every time he had forgotten it. He would not allow feelings to controll him. He was the Marquese of fear, he would not be pushed around by something so trival as feelings.
Since her departure and...death, he had regained some bit of his sanity, however he lost the sheer want to feel something. He seemed empty and, even though he didn't want to admit it, he felt lonely. He missed her everpresent gaze of her eyes on him. He missed her faint voice at the back of his head. He even missed her foolish thought of pregnancy, even though she was imprisioned in his, a male's body.
She awoke in a desert. The earth beneath her flesh dry and britle. She got up and looked around, she faintly connected this place with her memory and headed to her brother's labyrinth.
She had reached the labyrinth and was running doen the huge and complecated maze, her only guidence - the strong pull of the bond. Her feet cold against the unwelcoming cold stone paths, the path barely lightened by a few tourches that were put rarely along the side of the path's wall. Still... she continued to follow the pull towards him, trusting her life and happines onto it. Her feet bloody and bruise, her skin cripled and her throat dry. She did not regret going to Hell.
Today he felt even more uneasy than usual. He was sitting on the throne in his tourture chamber, staring blindly, without any emotion towards the suffering victim on the rack. He did not even blink when the intestines came out in a flow of blood.
The pull became even stronger than before, and the worst was that it was increasing by the second. He did not move, he would not give in to it. Therefore he centered his anxiousness to tapping his fingers against the throne's armrest.
Unpleasantly his anxiousness only increased. His hearbeat quickened and his breathing became faster, sharper. He started to shift his positions on the throne every 30 seconds now, leaving his fallowers distressed and confused.
This started to become unberable, until he heard something moving in the outside coridor. The noise The noise becoming lauder as it reached the door. He would later curse himself, but he even stopped breathing and stared at the door in full concentration.
The door swung open, as if the intruder was unaware that they were interuppting the Duke of Terror's favourite passtime...
And in the dorway... he saw Her.
It seemed like the time had stopped for the moment. Everything stood still, it seemed even the blood stopped to flow down the rack of the victim.
He locked eyes with her, and both were unable to understand what they were seeing. The conected twinf, finally in their own separete bodies. But what was even more unbelievable was that she was standing in the doorway. He thought she was dead, lost to him forever. However, although a little bruised and dishwashed, she was indeed standing there.
The stillnes was broken when he practicly jumped out of his seat, cousing his minons to flinch. Then, as if remembering who he was, where he was, and in what position he was, he stopped in his step and glared at the followers with a look that they quickly tranlated ment: "If you don't get out this instant, i'll rip you to shreds." And thankfully they obliged to his advice, quickly running out of the room thaking th dead carcass of the tourtured victim with them.
Once the dor was closed, she flew into his arms, hugging him tightly and kissing his face and neck lightly. He responded by taking her even closer to him, while silently enjouying her lips on his skin. She traled her fingers softly over his face, trying to memorize and finaly able to touch his face. And the great Marquese of Terror stood silently and compleatly still under her touch, holding her tightly in his arms while savouring the moment. He dipped his head next to her shoulderbone and inhaled her scent, getting drunk in it.
He thought, if this were a drem, he would never want to wake up. He started to lightly kiss her neck, biting once in a while to leave his mark on her damaged skin. Their hands trainling aimlessly over each other, for they finaly could touch each other.
After some time they both came to the conclusion that clothing had become a nuisiance. So they both abandoned it and savored each other to a full extent.