L U C I F E R [18+]

ONE

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Death was erotic and written in the form of love and desire.

The idea of death was tantalizing, caressing her with its sweet song as the world around her slowed.

Evangeline watched as the party around her became lethargic; the song playing from the speakers became distorted and the lights were suddenly too bright.

She had taken too much.

Unceremoniously, another sweaty body bumped into her, knocking her out of her trance.

It was the designer who she has modeled for that night, absolutely wasted and high from the blank stare Evangeline was receiving.

"Eva!" Celine slurred, gripping Evangeline's waist for support as she struggled to stand. She pulled a small bag from her pocket, holding it up with a lopsided grin, "wanna have some fun?"

Desperate to keep her high, Evangeline reached for the pills but Celine retracted her arm before she could grab them, wiggling a finger in her face.

"You have to earn it!" Celine giggled, her eyes glinting with mischief as she watched the young girl who was desperately grabbing for the bag. "Beg."

Evangeline looked into Celine's eyes, whispering a small plea.

Celine shook her head, "beg me."

"Please Celine," Evangeline spoke louder.

"You can do better than that," she hissed, grabbing a fistful of Evangeline's hair and tugging it back.

Evangeline got on her knees infront of Celine, bowing her head while saying, "please mistress."

Celine grinned, placing a pill on her tongue for Evangeline to see.

Without any hesitation, Evangeline's mouth ascended onto hers, her tongue searching desperately for the small pill Celine had teased her with.

Celine's hands were feeling her up, sliding below the short dress she wore; but Evangeline was too focused on the task at hand.

Evangeline pulled back triumphantly as she found and swallowed the pill. Celine faded from her sight and the overwhelming feeling of the drugs and alcohol together made her suddenly aware that she was too high.

Too gone.

The room became too hot, too stuffy.

Evangeline stumbled through the crowds of people; she couldn't focus on anything. She threw open the penthouse door and made a drunken dash towards the roof.

It was in the negatives around this time in New York but Evangeline stepped into the cold wearing just her mini dress and high heels, the drugs numbing her from the weather. She couldn't feel anything.

Too numb.

She felt nauseous suddenly, her eyes shifting in and out of focus, the city lights contributing to the pounding in her head.

Evangeline gasped for breath as she teetered on the edge of the building, everything coming into crisp focus.

The vacant look in her face became one of delirious joy as she looked down at the pavement fifty stories down.

Too high.

Evangeline looked up this time, stumbling in the stilettos she wore from the blood rushing to her head.

The idea of death was arousing to her; it called her name, promising relief from her misery and retribution for her suffering.

She shuffled closer to the edge.

It whispered her name, caressing her sweetly.

Evangeline wanted to see, she yearned for that erotic taste of death above all else. Nothing in her life could compare to the high she would get from death.

The liberation.

She took a step forward, looking down with a smile as she said a silent prayer, asking God to forgive her sins.

And then, she pushed herself over the edge.