Post by † Demon † on Dec 11, 2005 15:22:02 GMT -5
Instead of doing what I did last time of having the speech in different colors; I've decided to leave it all the same--just to be lazy. Bwhaha.
She lay there. Scared, and lonely--something she thought could never happen to the almighty Demon. Yet, as she was just about to give up all signs of hope, the voice broke through once more...all silence shattered, and her heart raised up high once more. "Don't you like being alone, Demon? I thought that is what you wanted..." An invisible sneer caught Demon's auds. He was laughing at her, yet she cared none now--he was back, back next to her...even if he was invisible. "Markaz...?" She looked back, removed the paws that hid her poisoned orbs. The mist was empty...empty yet thick. "Why don't you show yourself to me?" The question was cut short...she had a million questions in her head, yet only a few of them made it out of the maze of corridors, and cancerous memories that locked themselves away. "You don't want to see what I look like," his voice came again, flowed on the wind like an angel at Christmas. She was in lust once more--the thrill, and ecstasy of the moment slowly building up in her body...she wanted him, she needed him. Right here, right now. "Believe me," he continued after a slight pause, thinking time, possibly. "--it would kill you."
A few moments of silence went by. Demon, in all her shadows and poison, was thinking. Long and hard. Something didn't seem right, yet after a few seconds had passed, it clicked into place. She felt stupid enough as it was, yet this was something she could (and would) die for. "Show me.. Show yourself to me, Markaz. That is what I really want... to die," She paused, a sly tear creeping down her ebony face. "to be with you..." Markaz sighed, even though he was invisible to the eyes of Demon, he could see her like a new day's sunlight. Little did she know, he stood right by her side--her fur a mere image, he couldn't feel nor taste her body--it was killing him. To be so close, and yet so far...this was his eternity of torture, and by torture, he meant it. "You do not want to be here," he whispered, his muzzle closing in on hers--she couldn't feel his breath, couldn't see him. The same went for Markaz...their 'togetherness' was ruined, and the heartache began to flow.
"Where are you, my love?" It was short and sweet--the sparkle of tears deeply set into orbs of green. She wanted to see his flaming optics, his dark pelt...the fire in his heart that made her fall head over heels for the knight of Koran so many suns ago. She listened, silently. The thump, thump, thump of her heart making her feel queasy, and lightheaded. The pounding of it sent waves right through her skull--destroying any clear thoughts...all thinking interrupted in that single instant. Yet, her attention paused--auds twisted slightly. She caught his voice, quiet on the breeze of winter. "To put it bluntly," a pause met her ears, "I shouldn't have done the things I did..." Demon nodded, sorrow in what remained of her soul--he had nothing left to say on the matter, it seemed. For some reason, the bittersweet addicted femme felt ashamed, felt guilty over something she couldn't place. In the end, she came to the conclusion...if she couldn't place the matter, it didn't matter; not to her anyway. "I'm sorry," Her voice was quiet, and understanding. Filled with an emotion that had been faded for so long, love. "I want to make you proud of me, Markaz...I want to make you happy." She meant every last word--right down to the T's and I's of the single letters. As she waited for a reply from her only love, a blackbird caught her gaze. The shimmering of shadowy blue on its wings amused here...she wished that sometimes she could fly--lift herself from reality and float in clouds of memories and ever-resting happiness. Yet, it was all a fantasy...and fantasy was nothing like the real world. Yet, before the thoughts could peacefully float away, they were rudely interrupted by a shocking, and unfamiliar question, a question she hadn't expected to hear at all--ever. "Do you think you are making our son proud?" asked Markaz, a sly knowing buried in his tone. He already knew the answer...yet the test here was simple. Did she?
Demon's head tipped somewhat to her left side, the scar crumpled over her eye like an old piece of paper. That was how she felt right now, old and unwanted. Unwanted and lonely--the biggest pain anyone could feel...the feeling of lost love. She thought to herself. Demon had totally forgotten about her son, the rage of Markaz' death had scarred her so much so, that any other thoughts had been shattered in the passing moments. It suddenly hit her; Markaz knew about the birth. "Have you seen our son?" She asked, wondering how long he had really been watching her...how long he had actually been dead in the mountains afar. "Why would he be where I am?" Markaz grunted, no real questioning behind it...all Demon could do was nod, letting words blurt from her maw selfishly...rudely. "I want to be with you, Markaz...I want us to be together, for eternity..." The pain was true in her voice, yet vanity was higher above it all. For it all, she should have been thinking of her son for that moment...not of a love she couldn't control. It made Markaz feel slightly sick, but not enough to give up hope on his only one.
"Do you really want to endure what I am going through?" He asked, the secrets floating in and out of his tone relentlessly. He knew she couldn't know in detail of the tortures he lived through each day, or where he was staying in this other dimension--all he could do was help, help in ways that he knew best. Prove his love, and try to set things right...for it all, he didn't do anything 'right' during his lifetime...and so things needed to change. "I can't explain what awaits you, my love. That is why I am telling you this now--to warn you of what horrors you might face...but, as it goes, the things you've done this past week, I doubt you have much of a chance left." It was more a statement, rather than a lecture. He had learned in all his years of living with Demon that a lecture did nothing; to get through to Demon, he had to talk normally, and show a lot of vanity in his tone...she absorbed vanity--it was like a feeding source for her soul. Vanity and ecstasy, her two favorite things; except himself, obviously! This time, his mind was interrupted--Demon spoke; a sharp pinch of anger in her tone, yet mostly disappointment rang wild. "I already know it's too late for me, Markaz. I can only lust for revenge..I want the Balkar dead--for what they did to you..." She turned away--yet, it wasn't really much of a good idea. After all, she couldn't tell where he was, and therefore, he caught the tears that strolled constantly down her facade. Despite how thick the walls around her were usually, Markaz had a way to bring them down...and it seems, he had done it again; it was possible every time, even in death.
He sighed, his form faded in and out of dimensions. It was almost his time to go--the signal was clear, he had to wrap things up pretty quickly. Yet, the faded stopped at this point, they were testing him...seeing if he had mastered the rules. Breathing a sigh of relief, his attention turned back to his shadowy seductress--how to talk some sense into her, it was a tricky thing to do; yet, he had done it once, he would do it again. That was a promise. "The Balkar were not the ones who killed me..." He cut himself short--she would figure it out for herself, he hoped anyway. Yet, this hope fell quickly away...her tone broke loose. "Tell me who it was. I need to avenge you!" She was demanding, that was no lie. Yet, her inner strength could weaken at this rate--if she knew the truth about his death, she would go mad with rage, completely insane. That was for definite. This was torture, in life and death...it would never fade. "Do you really have to ask?" He mumbled, wandering past the shadowed form of his former lover--the scars of pregnancy thickly painted on her stomach, despite the thick layers of muscles she had covering herself. She was one hell of a piece of work, that was no lie. She had the strength of a Dragga, the heart of a Drappa--and the mind of a Goddess...the mixture could prove deadly if turned against itself, yet at this moment in time, she was a creation worth praising, worth saving--at every cost.
Demon thought for a while, unable to think of who could have killed her dearest lover. Yet, suddenly, a large shock hit into her spine. The image of white was buried in her eyesight. A growl hit into her throat, and her words rattled with rage. "They shall pay with their life..." She spat, her body shaking with anger of what she saw. Had Markaz sent her the image, or was it instinct? She cared not--either way, it was something she didn't expect, and something she didn't want to believe at all for that matter. "Send her to me, my love--I would love to see her again..." Markaz broke the angered silence, he knew the sense was filling up inside her. She was crumbling her walls, and building her determination. His will and hope could save her after all--a smile stole his lips for the very first time, and his lover spoke once more. "Her heart will be served to you, Markaz...that's a promise." He laughed softly, and admired the spirit this dark femme could possess. He realized now that even in death, love was the only thing he could hold onto--the only thing that kept him going. "Must you always be so descriptive?" He mocked, wanting to let his tongue slide over her muzzle; that thought killed his mood slightly, yet he would not let it be heard, she had to remain strong--strong and true, the true putnar this day. Demon smiled, her face lit up in seconds. Her tone stained with something other than rage--something that she hadn't felt in a while, hope. "Of course," she purred, "remember what my name is..." Demon laughed, her lips drawn into a beautiful smile, as Markaz laughed with her; his tone almost as happy as though in reality. "A wolf after my own heart, how I love you...Demon..."
Demon's laughter stopped. Shivers in her spine, had he called her by this name? Had he said the words she'd needed to hear? Her heart skipped a beat--if wolves could blush, she'd be a tomato as of now. Looking at the earth, she shifted slightly--her words quiet and shy, something that didn't suit her overwhelming form and size. "I love you too, Markaz--you do not realize how great it makes me feel to hear you say that once again...especially when it's by this name," She smiled, her auds twitching as his reply came as quick and as calmly as a summer breeze. "Well," he paused, letting his eyes watch her shy feelings fade into the faint light behind her. "It suits you, perfectly. No name could have been better--not even the old one." Smiling, he watched as their gaze connected without Demon's knowing. He wondered, deep down, if she could sense his whereabouts--yet he doubted such things; after all, the course of true love never did run smoothly. "Do you still love me, Markaz?" Demon blurted out, she needed to hear him say it again--it made her smile, it made her whole again. As her mother used to say, Markaz and herself were one. Forever and always. Markaz shook his head slightly, and stood next to the blackened she-devil, wanting ever so much to feel her fur against his, and vise-versa. "I always did, Demon. I always have, and I always will--you must remember that..." Demon sighed, wishing to see him--wanting to feel him against her own body. She now knew of the tortures he faced. "Tell me you love me, Markaz--" Demon paused, she thought for a moment, that he was next to her. It felt slightly warmer all of a sudden, yet the feeling faded; little did she know that he had moved. She had felt his presence--and she felt his love. It was quite incredible, to say the very least. "I love you, Demon!"
Silence came into play--the conversation died away, as their eyes connected unknowingly once again. Demon's tail swished slightly to the left, as though she had planned for such a movement. They always seemed so calculated, so perfect; stupid thing to say. After all, nobody was perfect--yet, for it all, Demon could have perfect moments; good or bad...they were still perfect. "Let me kill her for you..." Demon rasped, looking once more toward wintry roads of nothingness that outlined the horizon. A thought of dreaming crossed her mind, yet such things was stupid; she thought anyway. So whilst shaking it away, she listened-silently-to what her lover had to say. "There is no reason to kill her," he paused, watching her every movement; each second killing his heart. "Let her suffer, like we have done. For all these suns. I will tell you what you need to know, and whatever else I can--believe me, I have had plenty of time to devise these plans..." He paused. There was nothing more to say as of yet--it was Demon's time to speak, and speak she would. "Allow me to be the instrument of your plans, Markaz--let me do this within your name, and for your soul...I plea." Markaz was amused, very much so, at the thrill in her voice. Anything he seemed to say that even considered the thought of a death, a fight or something along those lines--it sparked a thrill in Demon's attitude, made her think clearly for once in a blue moon--or close enough to that anyway. Yet, something felt out of place to the spiritual male; it seemed slightly out of position. The question was asked--"what about Stormy?" Demon snorted, her attitude fading slightly; why did he have to mention such things in a true moment of ecstasy and rebuilding of her life? Why? Nonetheless, she answered...calm and collected; despite the rage that was filling up in her heart; a cancer eating away at her. Inside-out.
"Stormy is dead. My goodness died with our son--perhaps it is with him..." She paused, the matter meant nothing to her. She felt nothing. Their son had abandoned her in her worst time of need. She hated the thought that he could be with that traitor right now--all nuzzled up in their winter den, she pregnant with his spawn, and awaiting spring pups in the Bitch's belly. She growled, yet Markaz broke it off. "--Perhaps. But, Demon, listen to me...I don't want you to kill her..." It was Demon's turn to interrupt once again--with a flaming fury within her tone. "Why the hell not? We both know I am already damned...!" Markaz sighed, he wanted to explain--he really did. Yet the guidelines were clear; and if he broke one even in the slightest way--the red meadow would not be lenient with such issues. That was fact. "I can't tell you, my love...I wish I could, but it isn't possible.." He bit his lip, harder than he could of in reality--it didn't bleed. He really did feel empty. Emptier than anything that ever existed...yet his love was strong--it was his source for survival; without that he would not be here right now--without that, he truly would be dead. "Can you see the future?" Demon asked, yet the question wasn't over; she had figured out something. "--are you telling me that if I attempt to kill her...I will die?" She looked sourly at the ground, all enthusiasm on the matter had gone. She had pretty much been told that her days were numbered, unless she changed her way of doing things; it stunk!
"Take it anyway you want, my love--but I cannot say either way..." Demon nodded silently--she wondered if Markaz could see the huge grin on her face, she wondered if he could read her mind. "Demon, let me tell you this now...there are things I cannot say, but those I have seen--bad things are bound to happen if you choose this path...are you completely sure this is what you want--?" Demon butted in once more, her voice demanding, and filled with a determination once more. "Yes! Yes, my love! Tell me what I must do!" She smirked, her eyes staring into the oncoming darkness--the last thing to be heard, his voice.
"Let's begin..."
She lay there. Scared, and lonely--something she thought could never happen to the almighty Demon. Yet, as she was just about to give up all signs of hope, the voice broke through once more...all silence shattered, and her heart raised up high once more. "Don't you like being alone, Demon? I thought that is what you wanted..." An invisible sneer caught Demon's auds. He was laughing at her, yet she cared none now--he was back, back next to her...even if he was invisible. "Markaz...?" She looked back, removed the paws that hid her poisoned orbs. The mist was empty...empty yet thick. "Why don't you show yourself to me?" The question was cut short...she had a million questions in her head, yet only a few of them made it out of the maze of corridors, and cancerous memories that locked themselves away. "You don't want to see what I look like," his voice came again, flowed on the wind like an angel at Christmas. She was in lust once more--the thrill, and ecstasy of the moment slowly building up in her body...she wanted him, she needed him. Right here, right now. "Believe me," he continued after a slight pause, thinking time, possibly. "--it would kill you."
A few moments of silence went by. Demon, in all her shadows and poison, was thinking. Long and hard. Something didn't seem right, yet after a few seconds had passed, it clicked into place. She felt stupid enough as it was, yet this was something she could (and would) die for. "Show me.. Show yourself to me, Markaz. That is what I really want... to die," She paused, a sly tear creeping down her ebony face. "to be with you..." Markaz sighed, even though he was invisible to the eyes of Demon, he could see her like a new day's sunlight. Little did she know, he stood right by her side--her fur a mere image, he couldn't feel nor taste her body--it was killing him. To be so close, and yet so far...this was his eternity of torture, and by torture, he meant it. "You do not want to be here," he whispered, his muzzle closing in on hers--she couldn't feel his breath, couldn't see him. The same went for Markaz...their 'togetherness' was ruined, and the heartache began to flow.
"Where are you, my love?" It was short and sweet--the sparkle of tears deeply set into orbs of green. She wanted to see his flaming optics, his dark pelt...the fire in his heart that made her fall head over heels for the knight of Koran so many suns ago. She listened, silently. The thump, thump, thump of her heart making her feel queasy, and lightheaded. The pounding of it sent waves right through her skull--destroying any clear thoughts...all thinking interrupted in that single instant. Yet, her attention paused--auds twisted slightly. She caught his voice, quiet on the breeze of winter. "To put it bluntly," a pause met her ears, "I shouldn't have done the things I did..." Demon nodded, sorrow in what remained of her soul--he had nothing left to say on the matter, it seemed. For some reason, the bittersweet addicted femme felt ashamed, felt guilty over something she couldn't place. In the end, she came to the conclusion...if she couldn't place the matter, it didn't matter; not to her anyway. "I'm sorry," Her voice was quiet, and understanding. Filled with an emotion that had been faded for so long, love. "I want to make you proud of me, Markaz...I want to make you happy." She meant every last word--right down to the T's and I's of the single letters. As she waited for a reply from her only love, a blackbird caught her gaze. The shimmering of shadowy blue on its wings amused here...she wished that sometimes she could fly--lift herself from reality and float in clouds of memories and ever-resting happiness. Yet, it was all a fantasy...and fantasy was nothing like the real world. Yet, before the thoughts could peacefully float away, they were rudely interrupted by a shocking, and unfamiliar question, a question she hadn't expected to hear at all--ever. "Do you think you are making our son proud?" asked Markaz, a sly knowing buried in his tone. He already knew the answer...yet the test here was simple. Did she?
Demon's head tipped somewhat to her left side, the scar crumpled over her eye like an old piece of paper. That was how she felt right now, old and unwanted. Unwanted and lonely--the biggest pain anyone could feel...the feeling of lost love. She thought to herself. Demon had totally forgotten about her son, the rage of Markaz' death had scarred her so much so, that any other thoughts had been shattered in the passing moments. It suddenly hit her; Markaz knew about the birth. "Have you seen our son?" She asked, wondering how long he had really been watching her...how long he had actually been dead in the mountains afar. "Why would he be where I am?" Markaz grunted, no real questioning behind it...all Demon could do was nod, letting words blurt from her maw selfishly...rudely. "I want to be with you, Markaz...I want us to be together, for eternity..." The pain was true in her voice, yet vanity was higher above it all. For it all, she should have been thinking of her son for that moment...not of a love she couldn't control. It made Markaz feel slightly sick, but not enough to give up hope on his only one.
"Do you really want to endure what I am going through?" He asked, the secrets floating in and out of his tone relentlessly. He knew she couldn't know in detail of the tortures he lived through each day, or where he was staying in this other dimension--all he could do was help, help in ways that he knew best. Prove his love, and try to set things right...for it all, he didn't do anything 'right' during his lifetime...and so things needed to change. "I can't explain what awaits you, my love. That is why I am telling you this now--to warn you of what horrors you might face...but, as it goes, the things you've done this past week, I doubt you have much of a chance left." It was more a statement, rather than a lecture. He had learned in all his years of living with Demon that a lecture did nothing; to get through to Demon, he had to talk normally, and show a lot of vanity in his tone...she absorbed vanity--it was like a feeding source for her soul. Vanity and ecstasy, her two favorite things; except himself, obviously! This time, his mind was interrupted--Demon spoke; a sharp pinch of anger in her tone, yet mostly disappointment rang wild. "I already know it's too late for me, Markaz. I can only lust for revenge..I want the Balkar dead--for what they did to you..." She turned away--yet, it wasn't really much of a good idea. After all, she couldn't tell where he was, and therefore, he caught the tears that strolled constantly down her facade. Despite how thick the walls around her were usually, Markaz had a way to bring them down...and it seems, he had done it again; it was possible every time, even in death.
He sighed, his form faded in and out of dimensions. It was almost his time to go--the signal was clear, he had to wrap things up pretty quickly. Yet, the faded stopped at this point, they were testing him...seeing if he had mastered the rules. Breathing a sigh of relief, his attention turned back to his shadowy seductress--how to talk some sense into her, it was a tricky thing to do; yet, he had done it once, he would do it again. That was a promise. "The Balkar were not the ones who killed me..." He cut himself short--she would figure it out for herself, he hoped anyway. Yet, this hope fell quickly away...her tone broke loose. "Tell me who it was. I need to avenge you!" She was demanding, that was no lie. Yet, her inner strength could weaken at this rate--if she knew the truth about his death, she would go mad with rage, completely insane. That was for definite. This was torture, in life and death...it would never fade. "Do you really have to ask?" He mumbled, wandering past the shadowed form of his former lover--the scars of pregnancy thickly painted on her stomach, despite the thick layers of muscles she had covering herself. She was one hell of a piece of work, that was no lie. She had the strength of a Dragga, the heart of a Drappa--and the mind of a Goddess...the mixture could prove deadly if turned against itself, yet at this moment in time, she was a creation worth praising, worth saving--at every cost.
Demon thought for a while, unable to think of who could have killed her dearest lover. Yet, suddenly, a large shock hit into her spine. The image of white was buried in her eyesight. A growl hit into her throat, and her words rattled with rage. "They shall pay with their life..." She spat, her body shaking with anger of what she saw. Had Markaz sent her the image, or was it instinct? She cared not--either way, it was something she didn't expect, and something she didn't want to believe at all for that matter. "Send her to me, my love--I would love to see her again..." Markaz broke the angered silence, he knew the sense was filling up inside her. She was crumbling her walls, and building her determination. His will and hope could save her after all--a smile stole his lips for the very first time, and his lover spoke once more. "Her heart will be served to you, Markaz...that's a promise." He laughed softly, and admired the spirit this dark femme could possess. He realized now that even in death, love was the only thing he could hold onto--the only thing that kept him going. "Must you always be so descriptive?" He mocked, wanting to let his tongue slide over her muzzle; that thought killed his mood slightly, yet he would not let it be heard, she had to remain strong--strong and true, the true putnar this day. Demon smiled, her face lit up in seconds. Her tone stained with something other than rage--something that she hadn't felt in a while, hope. "Of course," she purred, "remember what my name is..." Demon laughed, her lips drawn into a beautiful smile, as Markaz laughed with her; his tone almost as happy as though in reality. "A wolf after my own heart, how I love you...Demon..."
Demon's laughter stopped. Shivers in her spine, had he called her by this name? Had he said the words she'd needed to hear? Her heart skipped a beat--if wolves could blush, she'd be a tomato as of now. Looking at the earth, she shifted slightly--her words quiet and shy, something that didn't suit her overwhelming form and size. "I love you too, Markaz--you do not realize how great it makes me feel to hear you say that once again...especially when it's by this name," She smiled, her auds twitching as his reply came as quick and as calmly as a summer breeze. "Well," he paused, letting his eyes watch her shy feelings fade into the faint light behind her. "It suits you, perfectly. No name could have been better--not even the old one." Smiling, he watched as their gaze connected without Demon's knowing. He wondered, deep down, if she could sense his whereabouts--yet he doubted such things; after all, the course of true love never did run smoothly. "Do you still love me, Markaz?" Demon blurted out, she needed to hear him say it again--it made her smile, it made her whole again. As her mother used to say, Markaz and herself were one. Forever and always. Markaz shook his head slightly, and stood next to the blackened she-devil, wanting ever so much to feel her fur against his, and vise-versa. "I always did, Demon. I always have, and I always will--you must remember that..." Demon sighed, wishing to see him--wanting to feel him against her own body. She now knew of the tortures he faced. "Tell me you love me, Markaz--" Demon paused, she thought for a moment, that he was next to her. It felt slightly warmer all of a sudden, yet the feeling faded; little did she know that he had moved. She had felt his presence--and she felt his love. It was quite incredible, to say the very least. "I love you, Demon!"
Silence came into play--the conversation died away, as their eyes connected unknowingly once again. Demon's tail swished slightly to the left, as though she had planned for such a movement. They always seemed so calculated, so perfect; stupid thing to say. After all, nobody was perfect--yet, for it all, Demon could have perfect moments; good or bad...they were still perfect. "Let me kill her for you..." Demon rasped, looking once more toward wintry roads of nothingness that outlined the horizon. A thought of dreaming crossed her mind, yet such things was stupid; she thought anyway. So whilst shaking it away, she listened-silently-to what her lover had to say. "There is no reason to kill her," he paused, watching her every movement; each second killing his heart. "Let her suffer, like we have done. For all these suns. I will tell you what you need to know, and whatever else I can--believe me, I have had plenty of time to devise these plans..." He paused. There was nothing more to say as of yet--it was Demon's time to speak, and speak she would. "Allow me to be the instrument of your plans, Markaz--let me do this within your name, and for your soul...I plea." Markaz was amused, very much so, at the thrill in her voice. Anything he seemed to say that even considered the thought of a death, a fight or something along those lines--it sparked a thrill in Demon's attitude, made her think clearly for once in a blue moon--or close enough to that anyway. Yet, something felt out of place to the spiritual male; it seemed slightly out of position. The question was asked--"what about Stormy?" Demon snorted, her attitude fading slightly; why did he have to mention such things in a true moment of ecstasy and rebuilding of her life? Why? Nonetheless, she answered...calm and collected; despite the rage that was filling up in her heart; a cancer eating away at her. Inside-out.
"Stormy is dead. My goodness died with our son--perhaps it is with him..." She paused, the matter meant nothing to her. She felt nothing. Their son had abandoned her in her worst time of need. She hated the thought that he could be with that traitor right now--all nuzzled up in their winter den, she pregnant with his spawn, and awaiting spring pups in the Bitch's belly. She growled, yet Markaz broke it off. "--Perhaps. But, Demon, listen to me...I don't want you to kill her..." It was Demon's turn to interrupt once again--with a flaming fury within her tone. "Why the hell not? We both know I am already damned...!" Markaz sighed, he wanted to explain--he really did. Yet the guidelines were clear; and if he broke one even in the slightest way--the red meadow would not be lenient with such issues. That was fact. "I can't tell you, my love...I wish I could, but it isn't possible.." He bit his lip, harder than he could of in reality--it didn't bleed. He really did feel empty. Emptier than anything that ever existed...yet his love was strong--it was his source for survival; without that he would not be here right now--without that, he truly would be dead. "Can you see the future?" Demon asked, yet the question wasn't over; she had figured out something. "--are you telling me that if I attempt to kill her...I will die?" She looked sourly at the ground, all enthusiasm on the matter had gone. She had pretty much been told that her days were numbered, unless she changed her way of doing things; it stunk!
"Take it anyway you want, my love--but I cannot say either way..." Demon nodded silently--she wondered if Markaz could see the huge grin on her face, she wondered if he could read her mind. "Demon, let me tell you this now...there are things I cannot say, but those I have seen--bad things are bound to happen if you choose this path...are you completely sure this is what you want--?" Demon butted in once more, her voice demanding, and filled with a determination once more. "Yes! Yes, my love! Tell me what I must do!" She smirked, her eyes staring into the oncoming darkness--the last thing to be heard, his voice.
"Let's begin..."
You should publish this, it's so brilliant!
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