inhuman

.

His eyes were closed, but his hunter senses were alert. Even through the semi darkness, through the gloomy stillness of his environment, he was aware of the cracking tension in the air, of things that the mortals couldn't see even with their eyes wide open.

A smile lit up his handsome features as he caught a whiff of her scent on the air. It was unlike any other, and it already drove him mad with desire. Ink, paper, an exotic aroma of a substance called coffee, fresh grass, dried autumn leaves, that's what her scent was made of. Virtue mingled with a little sin, goodness with a hint of mischief. It wouldn't be difficult to lead her astray, but not easy enough to make him loose interest. He knew she'd be his doom if he wasn't cautious, but she was the only way. She was only the door out of this dark abyss that he had fallen into, because of his mother, and because four of his friends changed their loyalties.

True that his blood lust was insatiable, true that he despised these meek creatures called humans, but what his mother had done to him was unreasonable, after all it was from her that he inherited this never ending thirst for blood, and thanks to the "godly" part he had inherited from his father, he was unable to feed on blood of lower creatures. She had taken away his wings, the source of his immense strength, and his so called "friends" had helped her. Together they had broken him like a fragile butterfly, thrown him in a dark cell where the only things he felt were helplessness and weakness... and he loathed himself for feeling those things. It was filling his heart with more darkness.

But now that he had picked up her scent, so near to him, his heart had started leaping in excitement.

Soon she would be here, and he would use her to get back his wings. He would use her as a key to get out of there. Once he was out of there, with his wings... there would be nothing to stop him, unlike the last time, he would never trust anyone specially "friends". Once out, he would deal with everyone, starting from his dear mother. He would get rid of everything that stood in his way of becoming their deadliest fear, of both humans and those weak things calling themselves "gods".

He would rip them apart, all of them. And of course, her too.

"She's near" he murmured to the damp, stale air of his cell, expecting no answer neither receiving any.

Come hither little butterfly, the trap is waiting for you. It's a beautiful one, and who knows, maybe you won't regret giving away your heart, flesh and soul.

A/N:

Theories?

:)