hell

It was just like walking into a dive-bomb nightclub.

Neon lights flashed, revealing every little crevice of stains in his suit.

He was a pure demon, but his attire was questionable, as that he wore black.

One look into his eyes would send powerful mortals down on their knees.

Words he used, were merely his weapons.

He sought earth, because he was bored of hell.

One ingredient was missing, from his existence, the tears of a human.

Her human emotion would wield the power of destruction and creation – little did he know that his blood, red and blue – were the devil's color. And hers were gold & oceanic like the sunrise and the deep blue sea.





---



I raise a bottle to my lips and I sit here, not thinking, not doing. My eyes shift over to the demon trophies mounted on my wall. They look back at me, and all I could do was raise my bottle to them. I burble something unintelligible. The weight in my eyes will me to force it open as I blink hard, wiped my hand over them. I finish the rest of my fire water. It wasn't easy being a god, that's what they call me, but I'm just a hunter who loves his job- just your regular super man.









title: my woman...

A kiss for another kiss, a touch for another touch - demonstrative and responsive, she felt exquisite. Sliding down to her neck, the light sweat I breathed in, I flick out a tongue, and she's bittersweet. She smells so damn good, I could fall into her, and lose myself. I could allow my feelings to dig deep into her being, and if I told her how I really felt…. My hand dipped into her soft hair, my forefinger touched the lines of her face, and her lashes lifted.

Dazzling and tropical hot, she's the only person I'd come back home to.

She was standing there waiting for me as I made my entrance. I knew she was demonic, but she wasn't quite demon. She was too good to be one. The young woman turned swiftly, grabbed her two small swords, green eyes flashed. She threw psychic swords, killed demonic birds instantly. I shot out with my hands - making dead turkeys out of the sky – ready for thanksgiving.

"And you are?"

Her weapons answered for her. Then she was gone.

Nothing left of her but the strands of red hair on the floor when she fought the birds of prey.

Her Protector:



She likes to place her hair-dull-lit, almost powdered cinnamon-up in a tight tail, and she barely ever makes time to look in the mirror.

She's never vain, never tries to see if everything is perfect, because she's reminded of how imperfect life can be.

Even in this state of mind, where she is going to climb the silver steps on the Chapel she serves, she only turns once-maybe twice-to see.

If he's looking.

Because it makes her smile, makes her safe. And her little steps take bigger strides. She plants feet covered in glass slippers on the holy ground.

She closes her eyes for a moment, lets the song and beauty slowly fill her.

The sun is dappling through the glass panes, touching the place she feels safe in, and her world is complete.

Her voice, stronger than her body, begins to capture the audience.

When she turns to see, he's there.

She notices that he's fidgeting, always moving: strange white hair, familiar face, and his head leans over to his right shoulder.

But she can't see if his eyes are smiling.







Title: DENIAL



"I don't know why you bothered to flirt with me."

I wasn't really listening, but she was giving me that grave look of hers.

As per my style , I sent her a look of what I considered cool. I was still under the perception that I could impress her.

"Does it bother you that I find you attractive?"

"Lord knows why." She shrugged as she counted her ammunition. She was a demon hunter and he, more than a mortal man.

"Maybe if you just stopped for a minute, just to see that I am flesh and blood."

"I can't live as long as you, you've got a heart of your father."

"My mother outlived my father…"

"You don't want history to repeat itself."

She walked away.