Notes: Happy birthday, Kelly! ^-^ Such a milestone!! This is my gift to you! ::smiles:: I hope you enjoy, and have a wonderful special day!

Your Death. Your God.

Sometimes, the clarity comes, bright flashes of sanity that washes over me like basking sunlight fingertips caressing the cool embers behind my eyes. They're fleeting, rushed, too fast in a day-to-day madness of tormenting sights and sounds that just revolve like the maddening carousel, point A to point C, and back around again, and I grasp onto them with translucent fingers, watching with a cool expression of indifference, because I know they cannot stay, will never stay.

Not with what's coursing through my veins, they can't.

Time ceased to truly exist some while ago, a few weeks after The Night. I refuse to go into any more depth than that, really; it was simply a cruel event, one that I regret on many different levels, such as losing my chance at claiming what is rightfully mine, such as committing such acts against the pure alabaster flesh that tasted like Eden in the confines of my mouth, such as giving in, losing control, and relishing in every bleeding second of it. But ever since that Night, I have cherished the scent of him that lingers in the air from places he might have been, sought to trail my teeth across the tender marble of his chest, wanted to lick the sight of others from his golden eyes.

I need him, the one that got away. He was born to die.

I wonder if he would taste of another man now, for yes, I have seen him with that other human, touching, kissing, staring. Did that pathetic band member even realize the depth of what he has stepped into? Could he still sense the imprint I left in the warm cavern of his mouth, that possessive slash that I wanted lining every moist velvet wall beside his teeth? Does he know that he desires what is forever mine; does he know just exactly what the punishment is for coveting my property?

I feel my creator's form rather than hear him, sitting tall, prim and proper against the leather couch where I took him, muscles tight, chartreuse irises witnessing nothing other than my absolute will. It wasn't until the first wash of frigid nectar had slipped over my tongue so long ago that I realized I understood why he was so addicted to this feeling, to this control, to this primal desire, fingers driven down deep into the heart of all that moves, manipulating, controlling. There is a freedom in dominance, a release in commanding the world around me, in covering it in my whims and toying with it all at my desire.

It is just missing one final element, that little bent brass key.

No words pass through numb lips, but the shell comes over, kneeling down between the warm area lingering between my leather coated thighs, only to lay his cheek upon one. Ebony nails tangle in his endless mass of colorless tresses, and I picture him, the embodiment of all I desire, helpless with his amber lava lakes, his hands strung tight between bedposts, the length of his body open, torn, bleeding, an offering to his god.

An offering to me.

What is his humanity, his mortality, but a sacrifice worthy only for me?

Adonis, my soulless doll, how pretty you look, so delicious, so tasteful. If only there were more of you to devour, I might be sated for longer still. But by the voices that slip through the blue of my veins, I can feel the totality of my consumption, the nature of your existence now. Pet. Mine.

I can feel the bitter cool of the shell’s breath against my fingertips as they play across the pliable lips, pricked by the fangs lingering beneath. Can he taste my scent, I wonder. Does he desire the ecstasy-laden wash of crimson life over his tongue still, cascading down the velvet tubes of his throat in the same manner I do? Can he even comprehend what he is, what has transpired, what the world has allowed to happen?

How I miss you, Holden. This is but a tool to return you to my side, to right the wrongs of this life and reunite our tangled roads together, braiding our paths into one strong union. I wish you could see that, honestly.

But you will, soon. I just have to show you the correct way. I am your light, your ending, your beginning.

In dreams, it is said that death means not the path of demise, but of a new beginning.

Let me be your Death, my pet.

Liquid mercury slips through an uncurtained window, resting frigid palmers against the back of my hand as it lies buried in the freed silver locks,. Rolling my head to the side, cheek pressing against the scented leather of the chair I sit in, I peer at Her, pregnant, radiant in the sky. I hear the club that reigns some ways away, feel the beats as they pulse through my kidneys, my liver; the bass and the noise of the band you cheer for, long for invading my ears for a breath. I hear you clapping; I hear you say his name. I feel your comfort, and it brings the murmuring laughter bubbling from the back of my mouth, much more eloquent than the music that has claimed your fickle attention.

Sometimes, I can remember the me that once was, the me that could have been, like little postcards paged through in a child's scrapbook. I regard him with little more than a disinterested nod, the cool casual nature of a thing that should never have been, that could have been the powerful, the delighted, the Master. What a fool, clinging to the melodramatic nature of a human ideal, the knife that tears, the eyes that glaze so easily.

But he is perfected now, not a mere shepherd, but a God among the sheep.

I’m quick to my feet, pacing softly as the words drift like smoke past the barrier of my mouth, speaking to myself and the thing that cannot hear me, but simply just feels the need to do what I wish. He rises as well, even as I circle him, even as I fall close to his lips, even as his emerald swamps regard me with me a sweet nothing. I am assured his compliance in his lack of anything less.

“Now go. You know what you have to do.”

Your Death. Your God.

The end of need beacons me from just beyond the horizon.

Only a few more steps, and I shall be there, your hand in mine, you sweet life slipping from the corners of my mouth.

My destined, eternal pet.

The End