Burn Me Right

I am an angel to some and a devil to many. It was her heart that I never wanted to hurt, and she kept me invisible in the rain, hoping the sun would never shine. People thought the beat of her heart kept me away, the sound of life that scared me out of the light, but no, the silence surrounding my heart was why I did not seek clear skies.” ― Rolf van der Wind.

diabolus persequitur eam in nocte....

(The devil pursues her at night)

Pray, my fractured angel, pray for more. Perhaps I will allow you to ease, or maybe I will even let you win,” he laughed maniacally while pursuing me through the woods. He chased me with his scythe and arrows, but he was no mortal. He was the Master of Death.

“Pray to me,” his voice echoed through the silent woods, twisting my gut, but I refused to give up. He knew he was the king of doom, and I was trapped in his territory. My feet carried me far, but I should have realized long ago that the devil and his dark forces had already marked me and that my fate was sealed. He was closing in on me. I could feel it. As I ran, he reveled in the thrill of the hunt.

“Hocest daemoniorum Prada es!” (You are the prey of demons), he yelled in a twisted language that only his deranged mind could comprehend.

I crouched behind a bush, thinking I had outsmarted him, but I was wrong. “You shouldn’t have prayed to the devil, darling,” was all he said as he hoisted me up.

“Wanted a wedding? I’ll give you one, but it will be a red wedding,” he smirked, dragging me toward a hellish abyss. I said nothing. As he gripped my hips, I gave in to his every desire. His hypnotic gaze held me captive, and I struggled to break free from his dark spell, but his allure was too strong. His body was warm, and it ignited a fire inside me. His lips were sin, and I drank from them greedily. I had never tasted poison so sweetly. As his venomous tongue probed my mouth, he asked, “Will you offer your throat willingly to the devil with a black rose?” I couldn’t resist the melancholy emotions of death, danger, sorrow, and revenge that flowed from his mouth, and I surrendered myself to him like a sacrificial goat.

He laughed, relishing his victory, as he savored the taste of her lips. He felt powerful, in control, as if he held her soul in his hand. The thrill of the hunt was nothing compared to the ecstasy of the catch, the moment when his prey finally succumbed to his twisted desires.

She felt a mixture of emotions. Fear, desire, and confusion consumed her as she gave in to his dark desires. She knew she was playing with fire, but the heat of his touch was too intoxicating to resist. She felt dirty and used, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel a strange attraction towards him.

She tried to push him away, to resist his advances, but his touch was too powerful. She knew she was making a deal with the devil, but she couldn’t resist the temptation of the forbidden fruit. She felt a sense of shame and guilt wash over her, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of belonging. It was as if he had marked her, forever tied to his darkness.

As they lay there, entwined in each other’s embrace, the darkness of the woods surrounding them, they both knew their fates were intertwined. He was the master of death, and she was his fractured angel, forever bound to him by the dark forces that controlled their lives.