Ennui plagues the crestfallen devil
who decides to find liberation
in seducing the angel.
b l o o d w i n e
the caged wolf
A peach-coloured petal slowly danced in wispy fragrances on the tips of his fingers, caressing his callous skin with its supple texture. Eyes of claret darkened and misted as the single petal stopped dancing at his palm and leaked blood. He snarled and crushed it between his palms, watching the burgundy drips amount to pouring rivers at his hands. It fell to the ground with a splash and created a puddle in its wake.
Concentrating at the situation before him, he was unaware of the slender hand snake over his shoulders and down to his waistband. The hand slipped underneath his shirt and stroked his abdomen with corporeal ease and he faced her abruptly, growling at her with stained fangs at the intrusion of his privacy. Her hand retreated back to her side and the smirk that so playfully moved across her face faded into nothingness, as she perceived his glower to be an insult to her whole existence.
"You deny me?" Her voice was soft as velvet but was carefully etched in something dangerous and poisonous.
He released a tired sigh and leaned on the armrest of his chair, his elbow charily propping himself.
"I now find the act of committing you to immortal sin has indefinitely put me at high stake for a dominating status." He said calmly, not paying attention to the glare being burned at the back of his head.
She scoffed. "You don't seem worried."
"You are not worthy of being vexed about. Your body and soul sickens me. Your appearance alone makes me want to shoot you."
"My body and soul is what keeps you alive." She reminded him with a growl.
"Which is exactly why I need you at my side until the day I die." He explained with a conniving grin. "That is, if that day ever comes."
The hands at her sides clenched together as the urge to strangle him was at her fingertips. However, she possessed no greater power than her counterpart, as he had been the chosen heir of the golden relic that hung on a silver chain around his neck.
"Why don't you just find another bitch to toy and fondle with? I've had enough of this!" Her hazy eyes snarled. "Being by your side is vile and corruptive."
"I believe that is not what you said moments before. And, correct me if I'm wrong, love, but my touch on your skin has been nothing but irresistible these past years."
She said nothing and looked into the shadows.
"Also," he paused to stand and face her, "that lapel around your neck has you bound to me."
"Not until you find someone new. Then I am released if I wish that to be so."
"Or I could always have you for dinner."
There was a glint in his eye before he turned around and disappeared into nothing. Hot breaths escaped her lips as anger surged through her veins, thirsty for revenge. In a sudden misty plume, the woman arched her back and clutched at her stomach as she writhed in unimaginable pain and ecstasy. She screeched, her voice echoing in the majestic hall, bouncing off the mural-painted walls.
Then the mist dispersed into wispy smoke, enveloping a dark creature in its hold. A dark dress pooled around the four legs that made up the werewolf that she was. Angry eyes of gold glittered as she choked back a howl that remained pent-up for centuries, her ancestors not able to do what she was about to do.
The howl finally emerged from her lips, a cry from pain and torture. It ached for restoration of a broken heart.
Her howl beseeched freedom.