08-29-2009, 10:45 AM
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<3!
She fought his grasp on her hair, impended by the stone wall at her back. He grinned further, cheshire smirk twisting his face into an ungodly expression. She feared him and despised his touch, and that amused him. The girl struggled, attempted to break free of him, but Samael wished to keep her tight, creating an inescapable cage with his arms. The Prince of Fear hadn’t had his amusement yet, and here she was trying to ruin it. Was it so wrong of him to enjoy a little game? “I don’t think so,” he purred, leaning closer toward her face to hiss into her ear. “How sad you’re so low on yourself,” the Lykoi continued, clawed hand lifting toward her face, reaching to gently grasp her chin if she didn’t squirm too fiercely away.
“A beautiful princess all alone in the world. Where is your prince?” the coyote inquired, dark expression shifting to something far less twisted—something almost empathetic and genuinely concerned. The Prince of Hell was not a hero, rather a violent villain, wishing to take this girl down and spray her entrails across the rain-soaked pavement. And this lost princess would die at his hand, alone and cold without a soul in the world to care. Perhaps he’d eat her heart—that way she could live forever within his soul. The rain continued to fall, soaking his black and blonde hair and running down his scarred face in rivulets as crimson eyes searched the girl’s terrified features for an answer he didn’t expect to receive.
She fought his grasp on her hair, impended by the stone wall at her back. He grinned further, cheshire smirk twisting his face into an ungodly expression. She feared him and despised his touch, and that amused him. The girl struggled, attempted to break free of him, but Samael wished to keep her tight, creating an inescapable cage with his arms. The Prince of Fear hadn’t had his amusement yet, and here she was trying to ruin it. Was it so wrong of him to enjoy a little game? “I don’t think so,” he purred, leaning closer toward her face to hiss into her ear. “How sad you’re so low on yourself,” the Lykoi continued, clawed hand lifting toward her face, reaching to gently grasp her chin if she didn’t squirm too fiercely away.
“A beautiful princess all alone in the world. Where is your prince?” the coyote inquired, dark expression shifting to something far less twisted—something almost empathetic and genuinely concerned. The Prince of Hell was not a hero, rather a violent villain, wishing to take this girl down and spray her entrails across the rain-soaked pavement. And this lost princess would die at his hand, alone and cold without a soul in the world to care. Perhaps he’d eat her heart—that way she could live forever within his soul. The rain continued to fall, soaking his black and blonde hair and running down his scarred face in rivulets as crimson eyes searched the girl’s terrified features for an answer he didn’t expect to receive.