06-16-2017, 07:39 PM
make me pay,
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
In a strange turn of events, he has caught the eye of another.
She is barely there, a whisper on the unwavering air, scarcely seen from the shroud of mist that encases the entire river; but he hears her. The water swells in response to her, rushing unnaturally in the opposite direction of its current, boiling and rumbling as he stops his liquid-self before her. He is still part of the water, unseen save for the irregular stillness of where he was amidst the otherwise easy flowing river. He stares up at her from its clear and frothing depths, considering her. All he can see are the sharpness of the fangs that protrude brightly against the stale grey of the mist, a cunning grin as its only accompaniment.
Do it again. The demand resounds in his mind, her youthful voice sounding like a muffled chime from beneath the water. She knows not what she is requesting from him; he does not respond to wishes, as if his power is only a mere trick of the eye. It is so much more than that. However, the interest that has pricked in the sound of her voice causes him to linger, floating himself curiously before her. Her own phantasmal floating has caused him to give her his attention. For a moment he considers his options, the most prominent one being how easy it would be to pull her into the water with him. Sure, she was invisible; a ghost on the breeze, but her delicious grin gave away her position. He could draw her into the water, feel her legs as they enter the river that he is now a part of, and drag her under with one swift and forceful pull.
If he had eyes, they would be glimmering hungrily.
Instead (at least for the time being), he decides to entertain her. In the stillness that is his now liquefied body, the water begins to twist and rise, thinly leaving the surface in a snake-like weaving motion. It twirls and spins, using water from the river to thicken and grow, sparkling in the morning sun’s soft light. He spirals it before her, an extension of himself, tauntingly close to her fanged smirk as if it were a creature of its own volition, eyeless as it stares at her. It finds her chin, somewhat hesitantly and clumsily, with only the appearance of her mouth to guide him. He presses firmly beneath her grinning mouth, lifting it slightly as if inspecting her. The fangs that hang from her invisible lips did not frighten him in his water form. As a solid horse, he would have been more pensive and wary.
The sound of another approaching causes the twist of water to falter, immediately splashing back into the depths as he draws it back to himself. The water where he floats remains strangely still while the rest continues to push by him, allowing himself to continue lingering before the invisible creature with the catlike grin. The other who approaches is fully visible, unlike the two that were coyly taunting each other. Maugrim considers his options – he didn’t think he would have a choice. It would be too risky to try to grab both of them at the same time; it was a feat he had not yet attempted.
He wants the two to join him, to submerge under the depths and to succumb to its relentless power.
There is a pause; a growing silence that falls between the three, even though two were barely there.
Maugrim decides to focus on his first visitor, the water bubbling and rising before her to form a rippling and fluid head and neck, matching perfectly the young stallion’s make and stature that had been seen moments before he had disappeared into the river. It rises from the water’s surface, stopping at where his shoulders would be, had he been completely solid. He allows his head and neck to remain completely transparent, his body still completely liquid beneath the thrashing river’s current. He blinks at her, droplets of water spraying out from his form. The other one – the black and white yearling – can decide what to do with the scene that unfolds before him. Will he come closer to investigate? Will Maugrim be able to coax him into the river as well?
“Join me.” His voice is bubbled and warped by the water, but is haunting and deep on the morning air. The transparent figure watches her patiently, staring at her pearl-like fangs as they shine in the soft rays of sunlight. If only she would step forward a few feet, show herself a little bit more, he could then drag her down with him so that he could continue on his way through the winding river with a companion.
Maybe the boy could join, too.
She is barely there, a whisper on the unwavering air, scarcely seen from the shroud of mist that encases the entire river; but he hears her. The water swells in response to her, rushing unnaturally in the opposite direction of its current, boiling and rumbling as he stops his liquid-self before her. He is still part of the water, unseen save for the irregular stillness of where he was amidst the otherwise easy flowing river. He stares up at her from its clear and frothing depths, considering her. All he can see are the sharpness of the fangs that protrude brightly against the stale grey of the mist, a cunning grin as its only accompaniment.
Do it again. The demand resounds in his mind, her youthful voice sounding like a muffled chime from beneath the water. She knows not what she is requesting from him; he does not respond to wishes, as if his power is only a mere trick of the eye. It is so much more than that. However, the interest that has pricked in the sound of her voice causes him to linger, floating himself curiously before her. Her own phantasmal floating has caused him to give her his attention. For a moment he considers his options, the most prominent one being how easy it would be to pull her into the water with him. Sure, she was invisible; a ghost on the breeze, but her delicious grin gave away her position. He could draw her into the water, feel her legs as they enter the river that he is now a part of, and drag her under with one swift and forceful pull.
If he had eyes, they would be glimmering hungrily.
Instead (at least for the time being), he decides to entertain her. In the stillness that is his now liquefied body, the water begins to twist and rise, thinly leaving the surface in a snake-like weaving motion. It twirls and spins, using water from the river to thicken and grow, sparkling in the morning sun’s soft light. He spirals it before her, an extension of himself, tauntingly close to her fanged smirk as if it were a creature of its own volition, eyeless as it stares at her. It finds her chin, somewhat hesitantly and clumsily, with only the appearance of her mouth to guide him. He presses firmly beneath her grinning mouth, lifting it slightly as if inspecting her. The fangs that hang from her invisible lips did not frighten him in his water form. As a solid horse, he would have been more pensive and wary.
The sound of another approaching causes the twist of water to falter, immediately splashing back into the depths as he draws it back to himself. The water where he floats remains strangely still while the rest continues to push by him, allowing himself to continue lingering before the invisible creature with the catlike grin. The other who approaches is fully visible, unlike the two that were coyly taunting each other. Maugrim considers his options – he didn’t think he would have a choice. It would be too risky to try to grab both of them at the same time; it was a feat he had not yet attempted.
He wants the two to join him, to submerge under the depths and to succumb to its relentless power.
There is a pause; a growing silence that falls between the three, even though two were barely there.
Maugrim decides to focus on his first visitor, the water bubbling and rising before her to form a rippling and fluid head and neck, matching perfectly the young stallion’s make and stature that had been seen moments before he had disappeared into the river. It rises from the water’s surface, stopping at where his shoulders would be, had he been completely solid. He allows his head and neck to remain completely transparent, his body still completely liquid beneath the thrashing river’s current. He blinks at her, droplets of water spraying out from his form. The other one – the black and white yearling – can decide what to do with the scene that unfolds before him. Will he come closer to investigate? Will Maugrim be able to coax him into the river as well?
“Join me.” His voice is bubbled and warped by the water, but is haunting and deep on the morning air. The transparent figure watches her patiently, staring at her pearl-like fangs as they shine in the soft rays of sunlight. If only she would step forward a few feet, show herself a little bit more, he could then drag her down with him so that he could continue on his way through the winding river with a companion.
Maybe the boy could join, too.
m a u g r i m.