08-13-2015, 10:40 AM
 i wanted darkness— i wanted him. By all rights, it should have been hell. By all rights, she should have screamed and begged for mercy, for death. By all rights she should have been the victim. But instead she loved it, the pain, the exquisite agony that unfolded inside of her. Instead of despising Him, or fearing Him, she loved Him. Loved Him madly, voraciously. It should have been hell, what she existed within – the lair, His lair, a dank place of hellhounds and ash. Instead, nowhere had ever quite felt so much like home. She sees that she has touched a nerve, pressed herself against a bruise unhealed. She should feel sorry. She does not. She knows she hurt her but her curiosity is too strong, her need to know of His life outside of the lair too intense. But the mare surprises her. She walks forward. She does not retreat under Perse’s words, instead she faces her, close enough to touch. Her breath is warm and unlike His, does not smell of rotted meat. “He likes His things new,” she says, voice heavy with memorization, “if He didn’t fix you, you must have bored Him.” She herself is scarless, unscathed – looking, you wouldn’t know it’s the face of a girl who has died a hundred times, given herself to His hooves, to His fire. “My name is Perse,” she says. She is named as part of His private in joke – Perse, like Persephone – but she doesn’t care, “and I live in His lair.” Does she though, now? He sent her out, demanded she seek out from whence she came, but she wonders if she could even find her way back to the lair without His guidance. ------------------------------cordis x spyndle |