Crimson (Prequel; Divinity Crisis Triology)

Chapter Twelve: Not be Missed

          Hannah placed her hands on his chest as she kissed him.
She couldn't believe what she was doing, she couldn't even understand, she couldn't realize what led to the kiss, but she knew she hated him, she knew, she was supposed to hate him, but she also wanted a distraction, wanted to love or pleasure, but deep down it felt as if she just wanted to punish him.
She wanted to be free, or at least act the part, she was tired, of running now, tired of the battle, tired of the war between the species.
She wanted its end, the end of the disagreement, betrayal, forgiveness and everything in between.
She just wanted a little peace, amidst the war and turmoil, she just wanted love pleasure, a kiss, a touch, someone to make her value her humanity.
Someone to take her pain and sorrow and unrest away... to turn it around
And she found the peace, the bliss she craved in his lips, in his touch, in his caresses.
She unbuttoned his shirt and he loosened his trousers, he fell on the bed and she sat on his thighs, she let his lips and tongue tingle with her tongue and with her lips as he removed her from her clothes.
He couldn't believe what happened, he couldn't believe he had her in his arms, her body, her skin, her everything.
He was lost in his thoughts and the pleasure she incurred in him, it felt like a ticking time bomb in the lower of his belly, and it ran faster with her kiss, her touch... her pace.
And there he was.
Jerold, staring at the two naked lovers, on whites double clothed bed, in his house.
He was shocked, he was speechless, he couldn't believe it was happening all over again; when he thought there was hope, a new beginning, when he thought he still had a chance for love.
He had been through battles and wars and there had been scars left permanently on his body, but now his heart was scared, yet again.
He gasped within himself, he held back himself, he strained his fist and held in the tears that grew in his eyes.
He threw his face down, laughed in disbelief and pain.
He remembered the last few months, meeting, fighting and growing together.
His whole life flashed at him like a story that just kept on replaying the same thing, over and over and over again; making a promise, growing to love a woman, keeping his promise at all cost, fighting, protection, guiding, and the whole nine yards, and then she'd move on, and move on to a friend.
Belphegor.
“I mean... I know... we had a misunderstanding, I didn't think we were... you could have at least told me something, anything” He stammered, holding back his will to shout, fight, run, kill... die.
“I'm sorry... I didn't think I had to" She whispered, mild, unapologetic and far from regretful, she loved it and she would not apologize for what unfolded
He looked to Belphegor and his eyes went cold and filled with anger and hate. He was just growing to like their combo, a wise demon and a hunter. He loved the turmoil that was with them and this turmoil forced them to be a formidable force standing side by side.
Now it was all lost.
“You won't dare harm him” She reacted, her expression frowned a little, and he squinted in shock and inquisition, “I can hear what's going on in your head”
“Can you hear it now?” He grinned and as she frowned more he scoffed, “Yeah, it says go fuck yourselves, not or literally; don't care anymore” And he walked off.
His heart raced and at the same time it was as if it stopped beating, he couldn't breath but he was panting, he couldn't believe but he saw it with his own eyes.

          They pulled away for about a minute.
She sat back and reminisced on the first day she met him, the day he saved her life, back at the archaic cobweb and insect infested castle, dirty and abandoned.
When hell had had enough and had sent an army against her, when it all seemed to be over.
That was when he came, that was when he walked into her life and gave her a reason to fight back, a reason to survive.
She could feel a fraction of self within her cursing and cursing but she was unyielding. She hated his lies and she felt to punish him, to rip out her heart as he did hers.
The death of Monique haunted her, she couldn't protect her, she couldn't stop them, she couldn't do anything and she turned her hate from the dead murdering Angels to him, the hunter with a thousand supernatural enemy.
          Belphegor was hesitant, he did hate Jerold, he loathe him, but then he loved how they conquered side by side, he believed their hate fir each other forced them to be likened to each other, to think the same, to be the same.
He liked that Jerold was of a loyal nature, he never turned around to hurt him or stab him in the back, after a successful alliance, he would resume the menace and turmoil.
He lately felt – subconsciously, that he had grown to fear him, that his first uncontrolled instinct was to leap in fear at his anger.  Jerold had taken from him sanity and courage, power, and he had not even put in much of a fight, Jerold did so by merely letting his reputation speak and only this was enough to instigate fear.
         He had conformed himself in the flesh, the fullness of his demonic nature as the foundation of his flesh, he was the first and only true demon with the fullness of his ability in flesh.
He didn't choose a mortal to posses, he reformed himself to the physical, with wisdom, knowledge, help and the with years.
He was new to the emotions, the thrills, the burning sensations, that caused his thoughts to fluctuate, his thinking to fade and his heart to race.
He felt more drawn to her than he never felt for anything, anyone.
He couldn't resist, he couldn't stop, he couldn't think... she couldn't think.
They tore their clothes and fell right back into pleasure.
He was burning below his stomach as he kissed neck her neck, she gripped him to herself as he touched sides that caused ripples all through her body.
She cracked his bones as she did, he pulled her away, gripped her neck tight as if she were a foe, tore every single layer of her clothes and threw her naked on the bed and climbed on.
Then a light burst from above, from nothingness and from it came a glorious flapping wings, like that of a falcon.
Its wing was dark and blood red, and the glow in his eyes white and bright.
He descended like a eagle and the lights were too bright his face couldn't be seen, his body, his legs, all covered by the light, by his grace, but his red wing could be seen, his blood red wing, feathered, glowing with grace and melody, it was everything they had never seen before and more.
“Red like yours, is he like family?” He whispered looking at Hannah but she was silent, she was speechless.
“An abomination and a demon” He spat, “Disgusting”.
Belphegor didn't know what got into him, he knew deep down what little a demon cam do against an Angel but his first reaction was to jump to her defence, he just felt the need to keep her from the claws of the red wing.
“I will not be stained by your filth” He grumbled still walking towards her.
As he swallowed the words of the Angel, he felt a burning, it sparked in his head, then his knees, his stomach, his heart, and then everywhere. It grew bigger and hotter and then came the aches in his stomach, his head, his body, everywhere, it choked him, he lost his breath, blood flowed from his eyes and ears and skin and nails, his hair weaken, his heart slowed and he screamed and vanished.
She gasped and glared in disbelief, the prince died, and the Archangel died, and now another, she won't let herself suffer again.
She took her stance and when he came in range, she threw her fist at him, and he ducked to the right and placed his index and middle finger on her forehead.
And then thoughts slept, she slept.