THOSE SPARKS RAN THROUGH HIM, lightning in his veins, electrifying every part of him. Parts of him he didn't know would ever react in that way. It was something he never had felt before. The sparks, danced embers of energetic flames- those tiny firefly-lights that danced until they were an enchanting grey. Who was she? What magic has she casted? It defiantly had to be some sort of magic, it had to be otherwise he had no idea how to explain what was happening to him. It wasn't natural.
Awakening in their hospitals just hours ago, he defiantly was far more confused than ever, he should have died. He had felt it, Death. He had come for Grayson the moment his last breath had been pulled from his lungs. When finally he was at Hell's gates, he didn't feel the anger rise to the surface the way it always did, nothing surprised him anymore. It defiantly didn't surprise him that he had ended up there. He knew what he had done, the mistakes he had made and he knew that we were to pay for them somehow, and he was glad.
Down on his knees, as black traces of his sin began to pour from his mouth, and the Devil stood to applaud his behaviour. Death had taken him to a place where there was no God, no hope. Only a lost, broken soul. A place where demons raised their young. A place where shatters of glass added to the coal beneath his feet. For the minutes that he was there he felt those heated flames that coated his periphery as he sank in deeper and deeper, to feel the pain he had inflicted upon others in his lifetime. The urge to run was no longer there like it always was, he wanted to own it, he won't be excused for his mistakes through murder of the finest person ever to grace the earth.
Flames licked him from head to toe. Blistering, melting away his flesh, reducing him to nothing but bone. No, not even bone, he mused in the next instant. The flames had reduced him to ash. But he was still aware...always aware. He still knew who he was, still knew what he was, and that he would return to this fire again and again for eternity.
The agony was nearly more than he could bear. Plumes of smoke thickened the air, scattering soot in every direction. Disgustingly, he knew that soot belonged to him. Was him. Much too soon, it returned to where he had stood, fused together and became a body, a man- a man that once again caught fire. A body that once again melted bit by gruelling bit, pouring flesh from muscle, then flickering orange-gold sparks over muscle before disintegrating altogether. There was blackened breeze, returning everything to its place so the entire process could repeat itself. Again and again and again.
All while, the beast roared inside his head, desperate to escape, no longer sated as it had been at the moment of his death. Blending with that was the sounds of other condemned souls, screaming as the flames of hell devoured them. Demons those disgusting winged creatures with glowing red eyes, skeletal faces and thick yellow horns atop their heads, fluttered from one tormented prisoner to another laughing, taunting, spitting. He had one of those monsters inside him. Except his was even worse.
The other Demon knew too. "Welcome, brother," they would jeer before licking him with their fiery, forked tongues.
Always before, Grayson had wished to fade into nothing when the fire overcame, never to return to hell or to stop the pain but no matter the torture he had to endure, Death had finally come for him and that was enough for him. Freedom tasted better than when he had died, he was away from them. From him. It was his gateway to rebirth, for a split second he felt like his soul was at peace even with the chaos, he felt it was much better than there, but his sweet tranquility of silence in the madness never lasted long enough for it to stay, to stick. He thought this time it was going to stick but it never did, it wasn't his time yet. They managed to have pulled him back using their Healers. Their Godforsaken stupid Healers. All he asked for was to be left alone, it wasn't too much to ask. Was it? He wished he was dead.
He defiantly didn't stay long for them to interrogate him, to simply just continue their sickening game of torturing him and bringing him back to life over and over again, he had a feeling that's just what they were going to do. That's what he would do. That idea seemed far more worse than Hell itself. If he had to choose between the two he would defiantly pick Hell, at least there it was warm. More than you'd want though, but he would endure that than have every single living being on this godforsaken earth take another poke at him.
Escaping had been far more challenging than he'd ever thought, his body was in no condition for him to run in the way he did. Just as fast as lightning striking it's electrostatic discharge across the sky. He was too determined for his escape and nothing was going to getaway from him achieving just that, even Death.
He had walked like his limbs didn't really belong to him, each step was a negotiation for him rather than an order. Everything hurt. Every damn thing. Rising unsteadily to his feet, it would've been against his doctors orders to have moved but then again would've they really cared if he did, he was causing harm more to himself than to another, he bet they would have laughed at his pain.
He winced every time he attempted to cross their slippery hospital floor, heading towards the exist door for only him to start sprinting his way here. To her. Alison was her name. What a beautiful name she had.
"Grayson, please let her go" Emily repeated once more. He wanted to but something inside him just wouldn't let him, it kept pestering him of fearful outcomes. He just couldn't, couldn't let go, he simply wouldn't. For to let her go was like a stab at his already open wounds, too painful to explain. But it was far more painful to just think about letting her go, how could he? How could he let go of those wonderful sparks that surged through him, for her to take away those sparks that never seemed to stop electrifying his flesh was more painful then any pain he had experienced ever.
The moment he saw her, he was intrigue. She had awakened something in him, something even he didn't quite know either. For his soul had come to life, awaked in the mist of only just dying, and letting her go would mean his soul had to once again die. For him to want to let her go was like peeling the flesh of his skin, he couldn't bare it. The need to stay close to her, even closer than he was now, was too over powering, a feeling- a need that he simply couldn't push to the side, it couldn't be ignored.
He'd seen many women in his lifetime but never had they spark this fire, this passion within him. He had admired everything about her, from the way the breeze blew her hair to her voice, her sweet angelic voice. For to him she looked like some kind of water sprite. There seemed to be a connection between "beauty" and "love," but not in the way advertisers would have most of mankind believe. But when he saw her, Alison, her casual beauty, blue jeans and faded shirt, it's like he only just seen switched on.
Her emotions were not easily hidden on her innocent face. Her pain was evident in the little crease oh her lovely brow and the down-curve of her full lips. But her eyes, her eyes showed her soul. They were a deep pool of restless gold, an ocean of hopeless grief. As he looked into her eyes he knew. All the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this simple thing: passion. Passion turned her eyes into orbs of the brightest fire, and in them he read clearly that she would fight to the the very last tear for her life. She would not let the world break her. Sure she could cry, but she would never let them take her true self from her. She clung to it with passion. Passion that made her beautiful. A beauty Grayson had never seen before. He didn't feel confused, not like with other women, she was simple and he liked that.
"Grayson please, she hasn't done anything" Emily begged for him to let her go.
"No!" He roared. How could he? She was his, and what was his will remain his.
But the desperation in Emily's look had him in utter curiosity, the look of panic in her brown chocolate eyes said a lot. Who was she to her? What was she to him? Was the better question, they had the odd similarities in their features, like the hair he thought. Maybe they were related in some sort of way? Sisters maybe? Cousins?It would explain a lot, their brown hair almost looked the same, although Alison's was a couple darker shades then Emily's. Their round faces with their dark eyes. Again Alison's were a shade darker, black almost. Not soulless nor lifeless. Instead they were like two pristine stones of onyx, that lit up with purple flare when touched by day light. He was in love with them. They were beautiful, too beautiful to neglect. To forget even, her eyes ingrained, permanently staining his mind in the most wonderful of ways.
There was a slip second when he felt his entire body go rigid, not a single movement was made by him. Those sparks that had lingered in the same place now seemed to have shifted, travelled, moving further into his fingers as her gentle soft hands grazed his hand that still remained over her soft, plumb lips. Hadn't he moved his hand yet? What was happening to him? He was falling apart by just a simple graze of a touch, she had to be doing something to him? She must be some sort of bait, casting a spell over him, to lurer him in, to lure him closer to his doom.
As the sparks intensified, his feelings did too. That feeling within his stomach churned in the most nerve racking way. Small beads of sweat started to trickle down the side of his face. Was he nervous? Never had he been nervous over a women before...What's so special about her? Butterflies kept on churning within him, and thinking became a massive problem for him, he couldn't think properly with them in his stomach and his head buzzing with possibilities, dark and sinful.
"Fuck." Cursing under his breath, she had him falling apart by just a simple touch. What would he be like if they ever kissed? For him to slam his lips against hers, to have your brain lit on fire and the warmth spread throughout his entire body. They felt addicting, her soft lips. Snap out of it! That would never happen, just the absurdity of that idea alone even he couldn't believe his own thoughts. Why would she ever think to kiss him? Why would he? He knew who he was, he never had the best experiences when it came to women, it was something that he didn't even want to associate himself with her or anyone else in that matter, it never ended well.
He thought looking into her eyes from afar was amazing, but up close there was no words to explain what he felt, it was as if it was written just in that simple gaze, a chemistry, a seed of life, an invitation to learn the other. Hearts beating faster than before. Those eyes, dark and mysterious, yet somehow he saw through them. What she wanted to hide, he saw through it all.
"Please let me go?" He had hadn't heard her voice before until now but it felt heavenly, sweet and soft, soft like silk. He was far to enchanted by her existence, too busy to grasp what she had said, all he could do was stare, to take in everything about her as if she were to turn into dust and disappear any moment now.
"Gray-son?" Calling his name uncertain of what he might do, as he just stood in place simply staring at her, she was his main focus and everything else became a blur to him. His name slipped and slid through the corridors of his mind, her sweet voice a seductive chant that promised unimaginable satisfaction. He wanted her to say it again and again. Music to his ears, it calmed him in a way he couldn't explain. The beast was no longer consuming his every thought, it left room for him to just think about her. The image of Alison arose in his mind, taunting him far more than those demons ever did. You'll find nothing but bliss with me, her eyes seemed to say, lips parting, softening for a kiss.
"Please." She begged. Why was she begging? He wasn't going to hurt her, was he? The plume of his breath billowed out, quickly dissipated in the cool air. After a moment of breathing her words finally sunken in, she wanted him to let her go, why? He defiantly didn't have a desire to let her go, to leave him but the need to fulfil her every wish or desire, even though it hurt him physically to let go of her. She was a puzzle he yearned to solve. His first glimpse of heaven with her warm, black hair and her dark eyes. She was exquisite and lush, and so unequivocally feminine she called to his every masculine instinct.
His hands dropped by his side, his obey to her request. She was a weakness and he didn't particularly liked it but in a way he sort of did, just hated to admit it. He didn't fully understand why, but he like that feeling anyways.
She never moved, just stayed right in front of him, doing the same as he did. Watching, observing and staring. He might not have known what he wanted to do with her a few seconds ago but the notion to stay, he defiantly figured it out. He wanted to taste her. All of her. Even if she was one of them, although he never really cared if she was one of them. He just simply wanted her. After all his suffering, he deserved a sliver happiness. Even in his days of being on the run, he had never desired a specific women above all the rest. After all they were all the same to him, selfish and greedy, always wanting more than what he was willing to offer but with Alison, he wanted to give her everything. All of him. But Alison, he wanted specifically. Alison, he wanted now.
The world around them came to a halt. All the shouts and pleas of her aunt's never seemed to stop, but now they became muffled, dissolving and melting away into the background. Like every thing else did. In that moment nothing matter to them, they were bonded. Connected. He didn't really know what was happening, she was like nicotine and without it he couldn't function. It was a bliss that ran through him, it had to be bad for his health yet he couldn't control himself, he was addicted. Or maybe he was the nicotine? Even through it gave you a buzz, it still was bad for your health. He would ruin her, something he didn't was to do. He would die before he ruined her.
Nothing good ever lasted.