ATEEZ IMAGINES

C.SN - misunderstood

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

As the hour of midnight advances and the church bell strikes 4 big strong tolls, which echo in the barren streets of the town.

The fog encloses the land beneath your feet, which are hung in the air while your drooly eyes find it hard to stay open due to lethargy from being tied to a board of wood severely in the air.

Your clothes are merely a thin fabric, now translucent as the wet cloth sticks to your body, tracing its curves. You are sure it is the moisture from the cooking storm in the sea but could it be so? Or did the lord decide to lay mercy on his poor devotee?

Pain surges through your body as your skin aches under the tight grip of the ropes which hold you intact against the upside-down cross.

The full moon glimmers on the horizon, as the dark waters reflecting its light make the night romantic for the lovey-dovey couples to feast upon its glamorous view. You notice the giant orb in the sky is husky, comically similar to orange as if made out of the very dirt under your feet.

A strange warmth creeps under your skin, as a touch very foreign graces the supple skin of your waist. It advances, tracing the curve of your spine. You gasp when it presses down a certain spot on your neck. There is something in the stranger's touch, which excites your body as heat coils in the pit of your stomach and your core clenches against nothing.

His faint breathing grows louder as he curls his arm around your waist. It is ever so mesmerising than the tide crashing up against on the shore. Meanwhile something thick and wet, perhaps his tongue, stripes up against your neck as it bathes in the very essence of you.

"I've been granted beauty this time." The creature whispers in a low growl as his warm breath tickles your neck while his touch still lingers on it. "How desperate are your people to sacrifice their finest sheep?" He says as his hoarse voice echoes in the quiet of the night.

You fail to sight a single one of your folk as if they are aware of tonight's happenings and went early to their peaceful slumbers. Pathetic!

You come to reflect on the creature's words and think how desperate your people are or perhaps were to sacrifice their own blood, to a deity linked with evil and destruction. Yet your heart yearns to save them from the misery caused by the curse because however cruel they may be, one's family is always dear to them.

Nevertheless here you are, bound to a cross on the edge of the cliff you once looked down in your hay years of pure joy and took in the breathtaking view of the shore below it.

The creature finally decides to grace you with the sight of his face instead of lurking behind you. He hovers in the air in front of you as he arches his eyebrows, mimicking a thinking face the Townheads make when trying to understand an abstract piece of art.

You take in his peculiar features which consist of two goat-like horns emerging from on his forehead and curl slightly above the tip of his ears. His sharp nose and facial structure are similar to the men of those French colonies whom your mother considers to be well-bred and brought up.

Certainly, if your mother would have gotten sight of him, her condition might have been less distraught.

"Do you hate them?" He asks in a much heavy tone as if your next word decides whether your town burns down or not.

"Who?" You ask with concern laced in your voice as you find yourself in confusion about whom he is inquiring.

"Your people." He mutters rolling his eyes with utter disgust, as if your people burned his entire family alive.

"Kind of..." you trail, pulling your lips into a thin line. He decides to advance forward, to proximity enough to consider you both passionate lovers however there is nothing but pure concern and curiosity on his face.