we scream our very souls free
The whispered taunt of temptation is enough to draw the young man in, though his steps bleed caution as he tests the ground before him. The shadows are endless and malleable, and should Haunt so desire, the shadow creature could send Misfit tumbling down for eons. Haunt would never do that to Misfit, of course, but the blue and gray stallion is correct to use such caution in a place where his eyes can stretch no farther than the barest of spaces. But as Misfit closes the gap, a wide, delighted smile stretches Haunt’s lips, sharp teeth gleaming invisibly in the endless pitch.
With the softest huff of laughter, the odd creature dances forth, pressing abruptly into his paler companion, leaning eagerly into the boy’s hungry touch. Yellow eyes glow with feral triumph as the game fades into something altogether different. Something far more dangerous.
Haunt returns the eager touches, teeth perhaps a little to sharp against sensitive skin, though they do not break the surface. Following the planes of Misfit’s body, Haunt tracks the changes there, the sharper lines, the more masculine ripple of sinew and muscle. Pressing closer, the creature almost idly tugs a blue strand of Misfit’s tail before sighing with delight. “Oh Misfit,” the shadow whispers, voice caught in a tenor timbre, neither feminine nor masculine, so easily mistaken for both. “You’re my favorite.”
Without warning, the light begins to brighten, allowing subtle shapes to echo through. Though the place the now stand is filled with deep shadow, it must seem as daylight after the impossible black they had just exited. Damp rock surrounds them, the hush heavy here, but not nearly so deafening as only moments earlier. A low, pleasing gurgle lends a tantalizing musical note, indicating the unobtrusive presence of an underground stream.
Haunt had discovered this place only recently, and determined Misfit must come too. A lovely, dark space accessible only by those who could move by unnatural means. Yellow eyes gleaming, the shadowy youth blinks mischievously at it’s oldest friend before coiling almost unnaturally around and pressing against Misfit until he is caught between impossible dark skin and unforgiving rock. Reaching up, Haunt nibbles gently at a blue tipped ear, teasing the edge with a sharp tooth.
“Do you like it?” Haunt asks breathily, voice harboring more than a hint of glee. “I found it just for us.”
