Post by Fayerin on Nov 3, 2013 22:26:43 GMT -5
The slitted orbs of her cat-like eyes followed the aging man as he paced the room. He had once been a rather handsome and distinguished young man, but now his once immaculate raven hair was disheveled and turned to grey and wrinkles lined his once smooth skin. He worried at the signature ring upon his finger, muttering incessantly to himself.
She was perched upon the stone windowsill of the ornate and richly styled bedroom, her rosy lips pulled back in a wickedly fanged grin at the man's obvious fear. He rounded on her suddenly, his face contorting in rage, "I told you, specifically, to kill him."
"So you did, and yet here we are," her grin widened at that, reveling in the bit of defiance she had been afforded against him.
"Then why have you not?!"
She slipped down from the sill, walking around him much like a predator stalking it's prey. The collar would not allow her to touch him, but the foolish man had overstepped his bounds and he had crossed the wrong person. The lord was a dead man walking, and he knew it, "Ramael, it would seem, has far more authority with this wretched piece of metal about my neck. You became far to greedy and stuck your hand into the wrong jar, now it has come to bite you in the ass."
His nostrils flared in anger at her insolent words, near stamping his foot in a child-like manner, "Silence, you wretch, and prostrate yourself before your lord!"
The pull of the command forced the young half-demon to snap her mouth shut, biting her tongue in the process as she fell to her knees and dropped bowed at his feet, prone upon the floor. She could sense that sniveling smirk of his as he stood above her. Several thoughts of what she would love to do to the man flickered through her mind. Soon enough she would be free of the bastard. After all, one simply does not cross Ramael's path and live to brag about it.
It would be wonderful to have her freedom. First, she decided, she would have to desecrate the poor excuse of a man before her, maybe piss on his corpse and give all of his prized belongings to paupers. It wasn't enough that his soul would be trapped in an eternity of torment. No, she wanted her own revenge on the man. If given the chance, she would gladly tear him limb from limb herself, or perhaps something of a slower death... such as stripping the flesh from his bones, piece by piece, keeping him alive in his pain until she grew bored and granted him 'mercy'.
She was perched upon the stone windowsill of the ornate and richly styled bedroom, her rosy lips pulled back in a wickedly fanged grin at the man's obvious fear. He rounded on her suddenly, his face contorting in rage, "I told you, specifically, to kill him."
"So you did, and yet here we are," her grin widened at that, reveling in the bit of defiance she had been afforded against him.
"Then why have you not?!"
She slipped down from the sill, walking around him much like a predator stalking it's prey. The collar would not allow her to touch him, but the foolish man had overstepped his bounds and he had crossed the wrong person. The lord was a dead man walking, and he knew it, "Ramael, it would seem, has far more authority with this wretched piece of metal about my neck. You became far to greedy and stuck your hand into the wrong jar, now it has come to bite you in the ass."
His nostrils flared in anger at her insolent words, near stamping his foot in a child-like manner, "Silence, you wretch, and prostrate yourself before your lord!"
The pull of the command forced the young half-demon to snap her mouth shut, biting her tongue in the process as she fell to her knees and dropped bowed at his feet, prone upon the floor. She could sense that sniveling smirk of his as he stood above her. Several thoughts of what she would love to do to the man flickered through her mind. Soon enough she would be free of the bastard. After all, one simply does not cross Ramael's path and live to brag about it.
It would be wonderful to have her freedom. First, she decided, she would have to desecrate the poor excuse of a man before her, maybe piss on his corpse and give all of his prized belongings to paupers. It wasn't enough that his soul would be trapped in an eternity of torment. No, she wanted her own revenge on the man. If given the chance, she would gladly tear him limb from limb herself, or perhaps something of a slower death... such as stripping the flesh from his bones, piece by piece, keeping him alive in his pain until she grew bored and granted him 'mercy'.