god make me pay
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
He twists and turns beneath the deep, an unseen entity but fully there, a bold current rushing against the natural stillness of the bottomless blackness. Here he lingers, swirling amongst the murky bottom and weaving himself in between the ocean rocks and dead corals, perusing his treasure trove with a delightful hum that is muffled and muted in that great blackness. Warped eyes bulge from their sockets, their bloated corpses staring blankly back at their captor, their fur waving gently in the current he creates as he floats by them. Here he is happy, intertwining in and out of the brittle, salt-worn bones of those he has dragged down into his chasm, brushing away the curious fish that have come to feast on what is left of the skin on their warbled bones. Here, they must not be disturbed – his delicate doe, his angry wolf, and other forest creatures he has collected.
He counts to himself.
Nine.
The ocean’s depths seems to billow as he comes to his number, a jolt of disappointment rushing through the water. His treasures stare back at him lifelessly, and from his essence, anger begins to radiate.
No, no. That will not do.
Maugrim surges upward, his need for an even total driving him to his acension, his body becoming more and more visible as he moves; first it is his mane and tail, their soft salt-strewn tendrils spilling out behind him in a lucid wave, then his muscular legs and chest, his barrel and then his neck, still completely translucent as he propels himself towards the open air.
Quietly and expertly, he slows himself just before breaching the surface so that the only sign of movement on the tranquil sea is a slight bubble that breaks the smooth, glass-like water. He lurks there, just beneath the air, predator-like as his water hides him from any on land.
A voice. It does not call to him, but he has heard it anyway. His eyes, barely visible in their liquefied state, snaps to the shoreline. With crocodile-like movement, he lets his water push him closer, ripples barely breaking the surface. He is locked on the target, grateful that he has found something so easily to be his 10th…
The stillness of the beach suddenly breaks when water surges around the olive-green woman, as if the world has opened up beneath her and the ocean is the only thing to break her fall. It’s up to her chest in a blink of an eye, and he watches her a few feet away with a delightful grin, his neck and head protruding from the water like a snake, now completely materialized so that she may see who causes the whirlpool she is currently in.
There is no time to swim away, for the water now is alive, the current pulling her flailing legs towards him as the rushing water becomes deeper and deeper, blacker and blacker…
He welcomes her towards him with a deep, gurgling laugh. He pulls her downward with him, completely liquefied once again so that he may press against her as they spiral in their sinking descent, feeling the rapid pulse of her heart race beneath her warm skin – so warm, unlike the unmerciful waters they find themselves in.
Down, down, down, blacker and deeper and darker.
They are at the bottom and he releases her, materializing slightly so that only a silver of his outline can be seen. Beneath a hooded brow he watches her carefully, and counts the seconds until her lungs would give up.
As the water enters her mouth and nose, he murmurs to himself with a hauntingly garbled voice,
“Ten.”
He counts to himself.
Nine.
The ocean’s depths seems to billow as he comes to his number, a jolt of disappointment rushing through the water. His treasures stare back at him lifelessly, and from his essence, anger begins to radiate.
No, no. That will not do.
Maugrim surges upward, his need for an even total driving him to his acension, his body becoming more and more visible as he moves; first it is his mane and tail, their soft salt-strewn tendrils spilling out behind him in a lucid wave, then his muscular legs and chest, his barrel and then his neck, still completely translucent as he propels himself towards the open air.
Quietly and expertly, he slows himself just before breaching the surface so that the only sign of movement on the tranquil sea is a slight bubble that breaks the smooth, glass-like water. He lurks there, just beneath the air, predator-like as his water hides him from any on land.
A voice. It does not call to him, but he has heard it anyway. His eyes, barely visible in their liquefied state, snaps to the shoreline. With crocodile-like movement, he lets his water push him closer, ripples barely breaking the surface. He is locked on the target, grateful that he has found something so easily to be his 10th…
The stillness of the beach suddenly breaks when water surges around the olive-green woman, as if the world has opened up beneath her and the ocean is the only thing to break her fall. It’s up to her chest in a blink of an eye, and he watches her a few feet away with a delightful grin, his neck and head protruding from the water like a snake, now completely materialized so that she may see who causes the whirlpool she is currently in.
There is no time to swim away, for the water now is alive, the current pulling her flailing legs towards him as the rushing water becomes deeper and deeper, blacker and blacker…
He welcomes her towards him with a deep, gurgling laugh. He pulls her downward with him, completely liquefied once again so that he may press against her as they spiral in their sinking descent, feeling the rapid pulse of her heart race beneath her warm skin – so warm, unlike the unmerciful waters they find themselves in.
Down, down, down, blacker and deeper and darker.
They are at the bottom and he releases her, materializing slightly so that only a silver of his outline can be seen. Beneath a hooded brow he watches her carefully, and counts the seconds until her lungs would give up.
As the water enters her mouth and nose, he murmurs to himself with a hauntingly garbled voice,
“Ten.”
m a u g r i m.
RIP Dacia, Maugrim's first equine kill. He will treasure you always <3