do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
He is young and yet his wrath is ancient, stretching far beyond Beqanna’s timeline and into the roots of existence. When she catches fire, his blood-stained teeth form a filthy smile as he watches her outline burn before him. She turns white against the blue and green background until she drops into a roll to extinguish his flames. Ghaul is careful to lift his head this time to keep him from shredding the other half of his lips into ribbons as she had the first time. Still, while her fangs do not pierce his scales, they tighten around his aorta and choke the blood flow there.
The monster laughs between gritted teeth when she says she would rather shatter or tear herself apart. She thinks she has seen worse but he was spawned from the depths of darkness, woven directly from his father’s arcane magics. Ghaul is a plague upon the world and he will make them weep with joy when he finally ends them all. They will say thank you. They will say please.
And so will she.
Her bloody spit splatters across his lips and he licks it clean from him with delight. When she leans up to nip him, he lets her. His head tilts curiously at the gesture until she hisses her command and lunges in for a real bite. Ghaul lets out a sharp, shrieking sort of wail before tossing his head to free his jaw from hers. Each of his breaths comes hissing between gritted teeth until he moves his right talon to her throat. If she could heal, would she choke forever? Would she pass out so he could tear her open and eat her heart?
“Let go. Sleep,” he whispers roughly against her ear. “Just give your body to me as an offering.”
But his grip is weakened by his blood loss. Unlike her, he does not heal from wounds and his body threatens to go into shock. His breaths grow uneven as he feels dizzy until finally he releases her. Ghaul slumps onto his side with a dull thud as he hits the ground and tries to regain some semblance of his composure. He had wanted to rip her liver out and devour it, certainly, but he finds himself too disoriented to try now. The hellspawn extends his neck and presses his lips to her neck, too tired to search her face once more.
“If I didn’t want to eat you, I might’ve dragged you back to Pangea with me,” he says as the world begins to spin a little slower now.
@[sochi]