A feral page of hell turned blankly to an orange cast sky. It's compelling chambers echoing the cold daft embankment of soldiers secretly combating in torn elongated forms. Each syncopated stance ushered inwardly by a general's rabid screech. His rattled sarcophagus of riddled rules bestowed upon the soldiers briskly. "We are hells legion. Dead to the percussive bowls of heaven's relentless banter. We are eternal, proud, powerfully willed to the conquering of all light and shining endearment. We are Satan's army. His release and return. By his hand, our hearts beat of a swollen envy. March, you oblivious cowards! March!. You are trained of death and rotted to recieve her eternal kiss.
An escort of demonic fury measured the concise movements to obtain the unmerited exertion to march onward. A desolate onslaught of the devil's primal rage. Directing the citizens of a fiery land backwards. There's toes clattering amidst the weight of the hoards of brutish horses.
The dark lord appeared in the distance.
His armor fused of soot and mortar. The tar like inflections shining of blackness repelled all light that groaned around him. His helmet glazed of a sinful fright. Overcoming the rich dimensions that now became its dwelling beneath the cast of iron claws. Their invitation shuttered by the firm grasp that clasped shut its internal workings.
A black, tattered cape rolled and twisted in a furnace of fumes and rancid putridness. It's delicate curves covering the dark lord's body.. Leaping about amidst a stench filled wind.
His sword gleamed black. Presiding over the spacious rite of the dark assembly before him.
Grayish eyes catapulted into a lustrous excursion of charcoal tinged blue and green.
His stance, malignant in its viral approach of conducting stitched flesh into an unwanted obedience. Now sprung to life in strength renewed and bathed in mortal despair.
Singing the signature professing of a false angel a precarious imp sat upon a bleached black shoulder.
"My lord.. what is the meaning of this meeting? Father, we are up in numbers. The coals are hotter than hot. The blackness, blacker then black. Our minions are rampant, causing desolate mischief and grueling destruction. We have dissuaded humans to fall for lust, money, greed, and even the shadow of your dark countenance. What more would we need father?"
The dark lord glanced over at the glimmer of the armored, miniscule titan. The solem creature now draped in exhaustion and retreat. Burying it's eyes to the ground. Relaying the swallowed regret in nervousness upon a feeble smile.
Stapling his dismal glare. Igniting the corners of intensive eyes. Flames retracting by blood shot ravenous fury. The dark angel uttered two words. Two words that trickled like blood in the vessel like overture of a pounding heartbeat. Their shy expression, delving slowly into the guttural reigns of auditory phrasing. Two words that stamped on a promissory induction to reclaim the one lost but tangible thing he wanted most.
He desired. .
What he hungered for...
"The girl"
YOU ARE READING
ShadowBound
HorrorDenkai is a 3000-year-old vampire. Sex and blood have sufficed for all these years. Until he meets Angelina Her other worldly charms. Her iridescent glow. While hungering for blood, he hungers for something else. Something he hasn't known for centu...
