Chapter 7
"Albel…?"
Abel?
"That's your name, is it not?"
….Yes…
"Can you hear me…?"
…
"I take it that you can…I'm glad of that…I…I was really getting worried…"
Worried?
"Yeah…I do worry, y'know. I'm not as cold hearted as they say…like you, I want to change…"
…Who are you?
"You've forgotten me? Does death really overpower your memories of reality?"
What are you saying, fool?
"Heh…at least you're the same old Albel, I was afraid you may have changed,"
Didn't you want me to change?
"No…No, Albel. I know you want to change though…It's obvious in the way you try to hide it. But…the thing is…you wouldn't be the same Albel if you were to change, would you?"
…
"It's strange that we're talking like this…I still can't get over it. I guess…I've been waiting to talk to you properly for ages, funny isn't it?"
That you get to talk to me when I'm dead?
"Yeah, but you're not are you? I mean, if you were truly gone would you have consciousness? Would you be able to respond to me now? I know…that a part of you still exists…"
The worst part.
"No, the essential part – the part that makes you who you are. Remember that…whatever you are told…"
…It's the part I've always hated about myself…
"…It's the part I've always loved about you…"
There was a faint twinkling sound, the kind of sound you could imagine the sun making as it hit the waves. He awoke slowly, seeing the intricate patterns embroidered onto the soft cushions beneath his head. Yes, it all came back to him.
But he wasn't surprised. He wasn't frightened.
He traced a line with his eyes to the source of sound and found a pair of silver wind chimes hanging from the gazebo ceiling, above him. Surely, they had not been there before…
He rose to his feet, feeling the strength back in his body. Around the glass gazebo the velvety waters rippled slowly as if snoring in a deep slumber. He made his way cautiously to the edge and stared out across the vast, endless sea of darkness.
No land, no signs, nothing…Was this gazebo all that existed in this realm? He turned the other way, again scanning for any sign of land or a place beyond.
But there was none. There was nothing but here.
He would not resign himself to this place forever, there had to be more. This was the land of the dead, or something, wasn't it? Perhaps there was some sort of magical doorway? He chuckled at his own naivety, who knew what forces governed this place?
But, then again, what did he have to lose?
Without further thinking he dived head first into the dark waters.
Darkness swirled around him, ebbing with the vast cacophony of dying souls. It didn't feel like water, or any kind of liquid at that, but like feathers and wind brushing across his skin. He clawed at it with his hands, trying desperatly to pull himself up for air.
But something wouldn't let him go. He was being sucked deeper into the sea, the feeling of a thousand fingers trailing over his skin, drawing him deeper, pulling him faster. He tried to scream but only black feathers filled his mouth. Could he die twice?
Impossible…
Suddenly he was in another place. A vast plain, not even a hint of any vegetation or wilderness. The sky above was a vortex of purples, blacks and greys, swirling forever in a never dying tornado. The place was as endless as the sea had been, no hint of anything on the encircling horizon.
Nothing…
Albel shivered, still naked from the gazebo. He wished he had something to cover himself, to give him at least one spec of dignity…but even that was denied him. It was then he heard a familiar noise. A groaning…a shuffling of feet. He spun around and was faced with what he feared: Romero's speechless servants. With no armour or weapons the only thing left to him was retreat. He turned, readying himself to flee but stopped, horrified in his tracks.
More servants were behind him. Not just more, but thousands, millions, stretching on beyond the horizon. What the…He turned back and saw masses more all around him, as if they had just materialized from the nothingness that saturated the place.
He was surrounded, unable to run anywhere, unable to hide. Panic overtook him, it reminded him of the panic he had felt when he saw the crowds faces turn on him with anger. The panic, the fear, the dread, washing over him again, unable to escape.
They shuffled towards him, hands reaching for his body, clawing over him, grabbing his limbs, pulling him. He screamed, desperately trying to shake them off but every inch of light was quickly being taken over by hands, fingers, arms. He fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands and curling into the smallest ball he could manage. He felt the cold flesh on his back, his shoulders, his legs, his arms, everywhere. Pulling at his hair, trying to yank him open, but he held with all his strength, screwing his eyes shut tight and trying to barricade himself from the horror that surrounded him.
"How pitiful you look now…" suddenly the demented groans and shuffling stopped and a single velvety smooth voice wove its way to his ear. Two silky hands made their way under his chin, lifting his head up to stare into two deep and mocking eyes.
"You...again…" Albel breathed, still trembling. The demon pouted, looking at him with concern spread across his milky white face.
"Poor Albel, you're shaking like a baby," he said, a smile tainting the corners of his mouth. The swordsman glared at him. He wanted to fight him, he wanted to see his tormentor writhe in pain; he wanted revenge. But he couldn't fight, he couldn't do anything in his current condition. Romero seemed to know this and was finding it quite amusing by the twisted look on his face.
"Get…it over with, fool! Don't make…me wait any longer…" the swordsman spat. Romero regarded him with curiosity.
"Get what over with?" he asked.
"Whatever you plan to do to me, you sick bastard!" The demon seemed taken aback with surprise, opening his mouth in mock imitation of shock.
"Surely you're expectation of me isn't that low, is it?"
"…It's lower than you can imagine…" Albel snarled beneath his breath. The demon sighed then lent down and gently but firmly swept up the lithe man into his arms. Albel tried to struggled but gave up, knowing there was no point, what good could his little strength do against that of a demon? Romero leapt into the air, miraculously suspended without any wings or source of flying. He flew upwards, holding Albel tightly against his chest. The sudden nausea of gaining such a vast amount of altitude in only a few seconds made the swordsman dizzy. Through the curtain of ebony hair he saw the land beneath disappear quickly at an alarming rate. The cold air hit him, freezing him to the marrow of his bones. He gasped, trying to suck in air but it seemed none existed wherever Romero was flying. The last thing he saw was a twisting tower lit with blue flames rising from the horizon before he lost consciousness in Romero's arms.
"Albel…just hang on…"
You again…
"As bad as things seem, they can always be changed,"
That's a hope for the weak, to make people feel that they aren't alone anymore.
"No its not!"
Of course it is, fool.
"I won't give up on you…"
His head hurt. It really hurt. It felt as if he had been rammed into a wall several hundred times. He moved his leg muscles, feeling the weight of sheets upon them. Slowly, his eyes opened and begun to adjust to the dark, dimly lit surroundings.
He lay on a lavish bed, the sheets made of fine silks in Romero's signature colours of crimson, black and purple. The flicker of candles teased the shadows, changing the appearance of the walls as if they were fluid like the flames themselves. Albel strained his neck to look at the ceiling and noticed stars above. They flickered, dimming, fading, new ones appearing in a never ending cycle of pin pricks of light. It was then he noticed a pressure on his shoulders. Instinctively his hands reached up and met with cool, smooth arms wrapped around him. Immediately he rolled out of their reach, suddenly alert and sitting up. The demon mumbled as he was woken from his slumber and rubbed his eyes, blinking blearily at his captive.
"Oh, I see you have awoken…I must have just dropped of myself waiting for you," he said moving towards the swordsman.
"Don't you dare lay you're filthy hands on me EVER again!" Albel snapped. Before he attempted to leap off the bed away from the approaching Romero, but his foot caught in the sheets, sending him sprawling like an idiot. Romero gracefully moved himself to straddle Albel's back, pinning his arms to the bed. After a series of curses and failed attempts to throw the demon off, the swordsman lay still, trying to catch his breath.
"Why do you still persist to struggle? Do you not realise that it is futile?"
"Why do you keep asking, maggot?"
"And what have I told you about calling me that?" Romero dug his nee into Albel's back making him yell out in pain. The demon chuckled, it was going to take more than punishment to tame this shrew.
"I heard you talking in your sleep…Do you still dream?" he asked the man beneath him.
"None of your business…fool…"
Romero gritted his teeth, roughly flipping the man over so he faced him.
"Why are we so bitter? Do you still resent your death?"
Albel opened his mouth to speak but his mind halted the words. Did he resent his death? What would have happened if I hadn't died…I would have lived in humiliation and exile for the rest of my years…Probably hunted by supporters of Airyglyph…
"And what kind of a life would that be, hmm?" Romero asked in conclusion to his thoughts. The swordsman stared up at him intently this time, looking deep into those parallel eyes, seeing for the first time the intangible past of an immortal being. He didn't know how to reply, he didn't know what to say, what to do, how to react.
He didn't know anything anymore.
The silver haired demon ran a long slender hand over his pallid cheekbone. Albel tensed at the touch. He wanted to struggle, to do whatever he could to throw Romero off but he couldn't, it was as if the demon had some unearthly power over his body. All he could do was stare unblinkingly into those enchanting crimson orbs.
The demon smiled.
It was unexpected and he didn't see it coming. Romero deftly lent down and took his lips in his own, still staring into the swordsman's eyes. Albel's senses returned to him like a mountain smacking him in the face and he attempted to resist the persistent tongue that pried between his lips. However, Romero's grasp tightened, pinning him even harder to the bed, determined to not let him escape. The demon's hands were all over his body now, feeling their way along his ribs and lingering over his nipples.
What…what is this…!? Albel stopped struggling as he noticed he was only pushing himself closer to Romero's body, grinding up against the muscular, toned torso and hips. He didn't know why he did it, but he opened his mouth, finally letting the demon's piercing tongue slither inside. Romero wasn't lenient in his exploration of the hot, wet, cavern, he touched every inch of Albel's mouth, paying particular attention to his tongue in a teasing and violating way. It took only a few moments for his mouth to be ravished by the demon before he abruptly withdrew and stared down at the bewildered swordsman.
Albel didn't know what to say or how to act. He didn't know how to assess the feelings that appeared to be infiltrating his mind. Romero was so strikingly beautiful, more like an angel than a demon with his milky hair falling like strands of moonlight all around them. Only one thought, one question seemed graspable within that swirling maelstrom of emotions.
"Well, now that you've got the kissing over with, what do you plan to do next?" he said sarcastically.
Romero just smiled.
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NextHeaven: oh i've fallen asleep. Review :)
