《The Colour of Your Heart》Chapter 3.2 - The Shinigami and the Ox named Pox
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‘Hell.’
‘Hell?!’
‘Hell, my dear. The inferno; the abyss; Satan’s domain; You know, down below.’ Mammon said with a hand motion pointing downward.
It was difficult to say for sure as his smiled remained, but this was sarcasm, no?
‘Are you teasing me right now?’
‘I am not.’ He said as he blew some air into the cup.
‘How can this be Hell?! You said I’m not dead!’
‘And I assure you, you are not. And why can’t this be hell?’
Mara cocked her head and frowned. ‘Are you always this difficult to talk to? Can you not just give me straight answers?’
‘I can and I am. You’re the one not not asking the right questions, my dear lady; getting stuck in this loop around hell or not hell, surely can't be very useful.’ — He said with a sardonic smile. — ‘By the way, you’ve really got the hang of the mind talk. One would say that you have practised it all your life.’
‘Where are my clothes?’
‘Thrown away. They were not suitable. The servants are preparing more appropriate clothing during your stay with us. They are colouring them appropriately as we speak.’
‘Colouring them? What does that even mean? And you threw my clothes away?!’
‘I just said that.’ He said, taking a sip.
‘Those women that were here before, are they the servants you are talking about? Why do they look like that? One of them didn’t have a mouth, you know! How is she even… how does she even eat?!’ — Her panic was rising at the recollection and her mind raced. — ‘How can you say this is hell?? Like the Devil’s hell?! Satan?! How is that possible?!! You say there is no Shinigami but who else could’ve brought me here if not a Shinigami?! He had wings! And horns! And his eyes flashed all kinds of colours. If I’m not dead, then why am I here? Can you just answer things properly and not talk like some cryptic old wizard?’
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Mammon took a long sip. Though he no longer smiled, he also seemed unaffected by the outburst.
‘Let’s try one question at a time. Perhaps a deep breath first?’ — He said calmly. — ‘You humans rely a lot on it in distressful situations. ’
You humans? An exasperated sigh was all she could manage. She wanted to regain some focus, but this strange man’s immaculate composure unsettled more than she could understand.
‘Where is he?’
‘My master? With his Highness, his father and the rest of his family. A small gathering. He will be with you presently.’
‘Mammon, was it? Can you just tell me what I’m doing here? Please?’
He observed her for a moment and set his cup on the table.
‘Do not be alarmed. I’ll give you these for now.’ He said as he grabbed a large pad and a pouch and walked towards her bed and deposited them on it. Mara looked at the materials and back at him, unsure of where those had come from or what his purpose was.
‘For you.’ He said, his expression neutral.
Mara didn’t move until Mammon moved back again towards the middle of the room. When she opened the pouch, she found charcoal pencils and brushes of various sizes. It amazed her how calming it felt to touch them, and then finally hold them. With his back turned to her, his tail wagged twice.
‘All your questions will be answered and your purpose made clear to you, of that you can be certain. I only ask that you try your best to follow our lead and do as we say. This must happen at all times. Everything you see and experience here is real. It’s only another form of reality that was not made known to you; or perhaps you chose not to believe it exists, it matters not. I cannot go into details, but you are a last and strong resort to help with a very… sensitive issue. My master is…, well, no, we are in your debt. We are very grateful that you’ve agreed to join us, Mara.’
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‘I didn’t agree to anything! What issue are you talking about? What does any of this have to do with me? Look, I’m just an artist back where I’m from… which you seem to know already… b-but what I’m trying to say is that this has to be a huge misunderstanding. I don’t know anything about your master, or hell or whatever. He’s made a mistake.’
He turned to her as he said, ‘Mm. Human minds, indeed so fragile; so fearful. Worry not, there’s no misunderstanding.’ He smiled again, so openly it almost dismissed his own condescension.
She shook her head in despair. He was enjoying her misery; his tail wagging again showed her as much. ‘What exactly are you?’
‘I am a wolf-demon of the wolf warrior clan.’
‘A wolf-demon… so that tail…?’
‘It is real. And yes, I do have another form. Although it’s not one of a deranged werewolf you have in your mind. How crude. Humans love to rely on their fictions to imagine anything. When I transform, I am in full control of my own abilities.’
She imagined him in what could be his wolf form, not much different to a furry werewolf she’d seen in movies, except he would have silver fur all over and he would be a refined werewolf, lecturing on one thing or another, keeping his excellent posture and holding his pinky out while holding his teacup. If she weren’t so confused right now, she would laugh at him.
‘You said my master, before. Do you mean the Shinigami? Are you like his butler?’
‘The ignorance is just overwhelming.’ — It was his turn to sigh now, and the tail stopped wagging. — ‘Not a butler. He is my master, my lord, and my charge. I’m to be by his side at all times, guide, teach, and protect him. Give my life to and for him if need be. He is Lucifer, third Prince of the Seven Kingdoms of hell, heir apparent to the throne. And I serve him. Hardly a Shinigami. Those don’t even exist in this realm.’
He appeared neutral, yet she knew she had hit a nerve.
‘So, still kind of like a butler.’ She said. She thought she saw a small frown from his indecipherable expression. ‘You would give your life… for him. So easily?’
‘I suppose it is inconceivable for you to even imagine such a thing. You are only human, after all.’ — He said, regaining some of his condescending smile, though strained now. — ‘We are not like you who make empty promises and trample on values like honour, respect and loyalty. We may have kidnapped you and you may think of us as savages, but my lady here, however distorted they may seem, our values still mean something.’ His tail wagged once, as if to emphasise his satisfying response.
She wasn’t sure what perplexed her more: the sheer amount of condescension or his misguided belief in their values. It was as if he was belittling or justifying a kidnapping.
‘What will it take to send me home?’
‘For that, you will need to be patient. I have no permission to disclose it.’
She squeezed the cushion in frustration. ‘I have to go back.’
‘You will, of course. In due time.’
‘No. I need to go back now.’
‘Surely, if there is something else you need, we can provide for it.’
‘I need my dog.’
‘Your dog…’
‘My dog, Shiro. I left him behind. He’s not used to being left alone for too long, and it’s just the two of us. I need to go back to him, to feed him, to show him I'm alright. I need to see that he’s alright.’
‘This Shiro… he is important to you?’
She couldn’t find malice or taunt in his tone. She nodded and hugged her pillow. Mammon looked as if he wanted to say something, but then decided not to.
‘Make sure you eat something and get some rest. It’s late. I will come again tomorrow.’
He bowed slightly and left the room.
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Masked
A white wolf was a special breed. A witch was respected but also not very common. So imagine the surprise when one girl holds both in one body. Rumors and myths were made about her but no one knew for certain if she existed.Stories claimed that her mother, Rose Taylor, who was a witch was mated to an Alpha werewolf where they had four children. Three of which didn't bear the gift of witchcraft, but their daughter did. The family denied all allegations and nobody was the wiser. But what if I told you she did exist? That her name was Emerald Taylor, she was nineteen years old, and she was deprived of seeing her wolf and being in fresh air for nine years. Her parents died trying to keep her safe one night and her brothers never forgiving her for it, so their revenge? Locked her away like Princess Fiona to never be seen or heard from again. Only to be viewed when she received her daily beating from none other than her own brothers and being fed by the maid that has been serving her for years. The maid is the only person who truly understood her and cared for her. When enough was enough and she finally escaped to only become a rogue who could be sensed entering any territory. What's a witch/white wolf to do? To be masked of course.
8 377Alien Affair
Mira, dripping wet from head to toe, gazed at the alien man before her and all she wanted to do was taste his lips again."Mira, are you hurt?" He repeated, growing more concerned with every passing moment."No," her voice was barely a whisper, and she threw her arms around him, her lips colliding with his. The towel slipped from her body and she no longer cared. All she cared about was the taste of him, the feeling of his hands on her skin, the smell of his short brown hair. She wrapped herself around him on the bathroom floor, and she was fully prepared to give into temptation when he stopped her."Mira," he pushed up on her hips, her name a groan on his lips. "Wait." She lifted herself off of him, a bolt of rejection striking through her like lightning.She sat up grabbing for the towel. "Sorry," she said, feeling destroyed with embarrassment."I just want to make sure you didn't hit your head," he chuckled a little, holding out a hand to tuck her wet strands of hair behind her ear."I'm fine," she said. His gaze darkened. "You sure you want to do this?" He asked.****MATURE CONTENT EROTIC/SEXUAL CONTENT For ages 18+ ONLY
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