06-20-2017, 09:49 PM
make me pay,
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
At first there is surprise in her eyes, which is always good because then their breath goes quicker. There is also a scream, which causes him to shiver delightfully; it was so rich in his ears, simply mouthwatering. Then the fear, so delectable and delicious as his mere thoughts hold her beneath the water. She is almost beautiful in her struggle, the pearlescent lavender grey of her coat shimmering beneath the soft ripples of murky water, supple and warm beneath his grasp as the blood still pulses rapidly through her veins. Not for long though; soon, he will feel the shudder of her heartbeat as her lungs take on the murky water, swallowing it wholly as if it was her last hope – and then there would be nothing. Perhaps a twitch or two here from some final synapses firing in the nerves, but then all would be still.
As he allows his body to become completely solid, he cannot keep himself from helping the process along, leaning forward to press his knee onto her neck. There was no need for him to do this, for the water he controls has plenty of force to keep her there long enough for her breath to betray her, but the young stallion could not stop himself from literally feeling the exact moment when the water would force itself down her throat. This is a risk, he knows, and he receives a sharp kick with her back hooves to his scarred shoulder as he did so, and though he winces in pain, his dark eyes glitter hungrily as he continues to hold her there, running his tongue over the pale of his lips.
Something catches his eye. He ignores it at first, the sweet taste of her death nearly on his lips, but then he can ignore it no longer. The smell is what grabs his attention the most, causing him to look up from her with glaring eyes and flared nostrils – how is it that the smell of death has already reached him, while she still struggles just inches below? He snorts as he realizes that his water somehow is poisoned, causing the fish and other creatures to float to the top with bloated, rotted bellies, bursting with organs and bile. He narrows his eyes, at a loss for what was happening, and his grip loosens as his mind releases the water’s control.
This was all she needed.
He backs away with stuttering steps, completely releasing his grip on her. She’s sputtering and coughing, breathing in large gasps – it did not take her long to begin to scream and curse at him, but those words were all ignored as he stares down at the warped ache he felt in the shoulder she had touched, his dark eyes staring at his flesh in wonder.
There was no longer scar tissue and muscle that covers the slope of his two-toned shoulder – bone was exposed, white and dry as the air rushes to meet it. He can literally hear himself rotting, the skin that once was there sloughing off in tattered rags, falling into the murky pond with a wretched plop. The hole is black with infection and disease that she has obviously riddled him with, festering with oozing puss. She’s said his name and his dark eyes draw even blacker under a hooded brow, his lips crackling as he snarls at her in response. Technically, he didn’t do anything to her, now – he had failed.
“Not just plants, then?”
His voice is metal against metal, grating and rough as it leaves his throat. Another piece of his shoulder loosens and falls, its dark evergreen color blending in with the pond’s obscure water. He’s thinking he should try to drown her again and ignore the fact that he seems to be rotting from the inside out, just to punish her. He could make it quicker this time, easier for him, and just shove a spiral of water down her screaming mouth.
However, it is curious how her power works on others; he wonders if it will spread until it consumes him entirely, or if it’s merely centralized to the one area she touched.
Maugrim says nothing else to her, simply waiting patiently to see what more would come from his infliction that she has laced him with.
As he allows his body to become completely solid, he cannot keep himself from helping the process along, leaning forward to press his knee onto her neck. There was no need for him to do this, for the water he controls has plenty of force to keep her there long enough for her breath to betray her, but the young stallion could not stop himself from literally feeling the exact moment when the water would force itself down her throat. This is a risk, he knows, and he receives a sharp kick with her back hooves to his scarred shoulder as he did so, and though he winces in pain, his dark eyes glitter hungrily as he continues to hold her there, running his tongue over the pale of his lips.
Something catches his eye. He ignores it at first, the sweet taste of her death nearly on his lips, but then he can ignore it no longer. The smell is what grabs his attention the most, causing him to look up from her with glaring eyes and flared nostrils – how is it that the smell of death has already reached him, while she still struggles just inches below? He snorts as he realizes that his water somehow is poisoned, causing the fish and other creatures to float to the top with bloated, rotted bellies, bursting with organs and bile. He narrows his eyes, at a loss for what was happening, and his grip loosens as his mind releases the water’s control.
This was all she needed.
He backs away with stuttering steps, completely releasing his grip on her. She’s sputtering and coughing, breathing in large gasps – it did not take her long to begin to scream and curse at him, but those words were all ignored as he stares down at the warped ache he felt in the shoulder she had touched, his dark eyes staring at his flesh in wonder.
There was no longer scar tissue and muscle that covers the slope of his two-toned shoulder – bone was exposed, white and dry as the air rushes to meet it. He can literally hear himself rotting, the skin that once was there sloughing off in tattered rags, falling into the murky pond with a wretched plop. The hole is black with infection and disease that she has obviously riddled him with, festering with oozing puss. She’s said his name and his dark eyes draw even blacker under a hooded brow, his lips crackling as he snarls at her in response. Technically, he didn’t do anything to her, now – he had failed.
“Not just plants, then?”
His voice is metal against metal, grating and rough as it leaves his throat. Another piece of his shoulder loosens and falls, its dark evergreen color blending in with the pond’s obscure water. He’s thinking he should try to drown her again and ignore the fact that he seems to be rotting from the inside out, just to punish her. He could make it quicker this time, easier for him, and just shove a spiral of water down her screaming mouth.
However, it is curious how her power works on others; he wonders if it will spread until it consumes him entirely, or if it’s merely centralized to the one area she touched.
Maugrim says nothing else to her, simply waiting patiently to see what more would come from his infliction that she has laced him with.
m a u g r i m.
@[Deathwish]