shreejastory
A demon is evil. Cold and indifferent. Some are the roses of society, lovely, till you notice the thorns. Others are the vampires. They're the ones that lick the crimson blood off their lips with a smile creeping onto their face. Yet, both the rose and the vampire have something in common: feelings of ecstatic joy from the torture of other souls. And as she lay there motionless, my heart lets out a cry. It's as if the cold logical part of the brain holds the heart captive in it's own house of horrors. Thus, some would say a psychopath is born, empathy shut off, and only the sick forms of joy afforded by cruelty. I look around the teal room, with grey wicker chairs, a flickering bulb, and a rose carefully placed on the windowsill. Just like the movies. Except, have you noticed how the vampire and rose always come together?