08-26-2010, 06:55 AM
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Madness grew with such chemical reactions. He could see the beach turning to fire and ash, and the ocean to burning sulfur. His skin was aflame, ripping from the bone as devils tore at him with elongated claws. Steadily, reality was torn from the coyote—if he’d ever even had a proper grasp on it in the first place, since his birth. He was the son of the devil, marked by the beast, and born of a mortal woman that he loved above all else. Fingers drove into the sand, feeling the grains against his skin, yet it burned like fire. Gaze lifted as a figure approached, this one different than the others. This one smelled of Inferni, and reminded him of Gabriel—dear Gabriel and his holy fire. He smiled wickedly, even as she drew nearer, holding out her flask to him. He raised the bottle in his hand, offering it out to her. “Take all you’d like. I’ve got more,” he said, leaning back on his hands in the sand. He couldn’t properly focus on her, though he wasn’t particularly concerned with trying. She looked like her father and that was all that he needed to know. “Little Lykoi, what are you doing away from home?” he asked, words heavy with drink. Of course, he couldn’t recall if he’d ever met any of the brats before in his life, or even if he’d even known about her before, but with a face like that there was only one man that could have sired her. It was unmistakable, unless he was imagining things. |