06-21-2019, 09:24 PM
OPHANIM
When she laughs, a ridge of thorned scaled rise up along his spine and he embraces his second skin. The real him – the white and gold, the light and the joy – disgust him now. That was the Ophanim who was too weak and too afraid of everything. That angel boy threw everything he loved into the fire and watched it burn just so it couldn’t be taken from him first. The dragon has no need for those things though. He simply grits his teeth when she calls this all a game but he does not yield to her. The monster doesn’t fold and submit as Ophanim would.
It only wants to hurt her like it has been hurt.
He steps forward, legs now covered in those glistening scales as he begins to circle her close enough that their shoulders push into one another as he passes. His skin is too hot when she casts the blame on him, maybe from the fire in his lungs or the fury in his veins. But still he continues to circle her with those jagged scales pressing against her soft, perfect skin.
“Have you also seen Beelzebub, my firstborn son? What about Ozias? Azlan?” he asks, head tilting to watch her face as he twists the knife further. Each syllable summons a flickering flame from his throat while little embers spiral from his lips. With each name, he tries to remember their mothers but the faces all blur together for him now. None of them had been important and so they are not as vivid as his sons and daughters. They are all beautiful and strong. Any father would be proud to call even one of them their own, but he has a horde of ten to claim. Despite the circumstances, he loves them with everything he has and more.
"You think you know what hurt is. You think this is the absolute depth of pain, but we're going to find out just how deep we can tear into one another. We're going to find rock bottom and fucking live there."
He pauses briefly to watch the trees rip themselves apart and he snorts, orange sparks fleeing from his nose as he observes. A vulgar display of her strength, but he says nothing as the splinters of wood land nearby and the limbs come crashing down. Ophanim narrows his eyes as he turns back to her, their shoulders pressed tight as his wings spread wide over them.
“How is your brilliant plan going so far? Did stabbing me back make everything feel better? Now you can go home to our son with your head held high, knowing that you’ve wounded me.”
But he doesn’t move away from her. He doesn’t permit her any distance from him as he watches her, the glowing eyes along his wings all staring with disinterest. Part of him wonders if this is the end of them, if he should stay here in this silent forest forever.
It only wants to hurt her like it has been hurt.
He steps forward, legs now covered in those glistening scales as he begins to circle her close enough that their shoulders push into one another as he passes. His skin is too hot when she casts the blame on him, maybe from the fire in his lungs or the fury in his veins. But still he continues to circle her with those jagged scales pressing against her soft, perfect skin.
“Have you also seen Beelzebub, my firstborn son? What about Ozias? Azlan?” he asks, head tilting to watch her face as he twists the knife further. Each syllable summons a flickering flame from his throat while little embers spiral from his lips. With each name, he tries to remember their mothers but the faces all blur together for him now. None of them had been important and so they are not as vivid as his sons and daughters. They are all beautiful and strong. Any father would be proud to call even one of them their own, but he has a horde of ten to claim. Despite the circumstances, he loves them with everything he has and more.
"You think you know what hurt is. You think this is the absolute depth of pain, but we're going to find out just how deep we can tear into one another. We're going to find rock bottom and fucking live there."
He pauses briefly to watch the trees rip themselves apart and he snorts, orange sparks fleeing from his nose as he observes. A vulgar display of her strength, but he says nothing as the splinters of wood land nearby and the limbs come crashing down. Ophanim narrows his eyes as he turns back to her, their shoulders pressed tight as his wings spread wide over them.
“How is your brilliant plan going so far? Did stabbing me back make everything feel better? Now you can go home to our son with your head held high, knowing that you’ve wounded me.”
But he doesn’t move away from her. He doesn’t permit her any distance from him as he watches her, the glowing eyes along his wings all staring with disinterest. Part of him wonders if this is the end of them, if he should stay here in this silent forest forever.
you could drown in those eyes, i said.