Little droplets of dew mournfully dripped from the weeping dark twisted boughs which loomed overhead, like the grievous tears of unsung bereavements. Sorrow itself seemed to whisper upon the abyssal winds, through the clanking trees, and across the cold ground. Pale brittle blooms adorned the rocky soil like shallow blankets of dolor, cheerlessly shivering in the breeze. Each petal was enwreathed in death and frail, as if even the gentlest of caresses could reduce them to nothing more than dust.
My pale hand slothfully stroked the side of Sagacor's soft neck, carefully avoiding the more undead areas. Each short strand of ebony hair willingly bent beneath my gentle touch, as I wearily lounged upon his broad swaying back. Azathoth and Valarendrik were leisurely walking and chatting side by side up front. Valarendrik was diligently looking over the book and copying down some notes for himself.
The four of us eventually traversed beneath the final wooded arches of gnarled branch and bough, trudging beyond the gloomy dark gates of the thick forest line. A steep cliff carved it's way through the ground up ahead, where the hiss of crashing waves was faintly carried up upon the breeze.
The gruff manly blabbering quieted down, and I heard heavy footsteps approaching, crunching over the loose stones and lifeless flowers. A large clawed hand tenderly brushed away the thin curtain of wisping hair that danced wildly across my face.
"It's time to get up, Buttercup. The decrescent pantheon is in sight." My drowsy green eyes slowly lifted up to see his ethereally handsome face gilded by shadows, and his dimly shining eyes and soft smile beaming at me with love and adoration.
"Can't I rest for a little longer?" I sleepily yawned. All that sword training had really tuckered me out.
His warm hand affectionately trailed over my shoulder, then down along my arm, until he held my hand in his. "I'm afraid not. We've already dawdled about long enough. It's time to complete what we came here for and return to earth. The sooner the better." I didn't really know what he meant by that last part, but I agreed, because I still had not forgotten about my leftover tortellini waiting for me in the fridge back home.
Love twinkled in my gaze as I smiled back at him. "Alright." I sighed, then pressed a hand beneath my body to push myself up into a seated position and slip off the saddle.
Before I could fully right myself though, Azathoth's hand tenderly latched itself beneath my chin, and his mouth eagerly pressed against mine. The nocturnal winds possessed his long swaying hair, using his silky obsidian locks to tickle and dance across my cheeks and arm. His velvety lips rapturously worshiped mine in graceful tides of waving passion. Then his kisses began to lightly flutter up along my nose, enticing small giggles to softly chime out of me, until he reached my forehead, where he placed one last yearnful tender smooch.
His benignant face pulled away from mine, as his arms wrapped themselves firmly around my body. "Come my love." He almost whispered, then gently pulled me from Sagacor's back.
He caringly kept me from stumbling and unceremoniously falling flat onto my face, as I gained my footing. The sword holster belt that was now wrapped twice around my waist softly clanked and nearly slipped off. I looked down and quickly readjust it, ignoring him mumbling "You don't need that thing." under his breath. I didn't care if I actually needed it or not because I felt like a total badass wearing it.
As I glanced back up, I took a quick moment to take in my surroundings. We were on a high cliff dropping off into a vast ocean of caliginous waters. Each passing wave seemed to rhythmically sigh out in anguish, an oppressive melody that threatened to lull one to madness. Opaque darkness marred where the sea kissed the saturnine skies, stretching beyond where the eye could see. Deep gulches carved by the marriage of time and rushing rivers, cut their way through the rocky cliffs, and poured violent torrents out from their gapping mouths.
YOU ARE READING
Unbinding the Demon
Paranormal"Don't bite your lip in front of me like that, Buttercup, or I might have to bend you over and f*ck you right here in this musty old library." Although he practically whispered, his deep voice was rough, almost a growl. He brushed his thumb across m...
