{+40% Affection (Fiamma Adeen)}
Amidst the decisive lattermost seconds of Eros's life, he scrutinised such a screen, an authored document upon translucent parchment, +40 Affection, a number so superabundant he couldn't quite wrap his vertiginous evanescent mind around it, with this Fiamma would be sitting at a statistic greater than 100%...with this, Eros received his dying wish.
He had been loved.
No matter how transient or ephemeral such fugacious flame may be, Eros still basked in its impassioned incalescence. An imperturbable quiescent serenity cloaked his form. The overbearing warmth of blood fell cold, frigid, and lacerations no longer brought agony maimed and broken, yet never disheartened Eros's lips, stained crimson, creaked into an emollient smile.
The fetid embrace of death superimposed upon Eros's shattered visage, swathed in a glacial blanket of lifeless necrosis, he appeared at peace, and yet, never fully satisfied, for though his eye, now a comatose uninhabited realm of abyssal black, saw not the world, it prophesied the death of the sole human who held any semblance of affection towards his disastrous ineffectual life.
Unperturbed animosity, a haemorrhage of impassioned vehemence bubbled within the boy's lifeless brain. His final thoughts dragged on for an eternity, for Eros gazed not upon the flashing of his life but the end of another, a providence he could not let transpire.
"You want to fight back, right? Come now, my darling apostle. Haven't we waited long enough? You've finally suckled upon the tantalising breast of love, and you're going to let it end so quickly, after seventeen years, don't you wish to experience more, to claim all, to take that which you formerly couldn't possess?" The consecrated feminine voice monologued, urging Eros's static heart to palpitate once more.
"Excellent, that's the spirit. Now my beloved, state our names, let forth your desire and ascend," With every utterance that spilt forth from the unknown voice's illusory, apocryphal lips, an eternal torridness would descend upon Eros's desecrated form, too vibrant and zoetic to be mistaken for the blood that fell languidly from his person, dyeing the world in such a reprehensible sanguine complexion, it was something else, a spark he formerly possessed, a vestige scintillation, the phosphorescent blaze of life.
'I am Eros…apostle…of Eros,' The youth inwardly mumbled, the luminescent conflagration spreading forth from within his body, its sultry incandescence rivalling the inflamed mound of flesh of whose palm he made his mendacious deceitful coffin.
From within his mind, a shadowed umbrageous visage grew momentarily explicit, a smile apparent to all who beheld its radiant, transcendent illustriousness, one so sultry, rapturous and lecherous that it appeared to be eroticism embodiment. Perfect pink dyed in sunless ebony formed a chasm of aphrodisiacal erogenous pleasure, a shiver of obscene lust running down the veiled voluptuous figure's body, a strand of saliva falling listlessly from her opened crevice. "Ahh~…in the future, please call me Psyche darling. The name Eros belongs to you and only you now," The voice steamily breathed.
Myriad changes befell the boy in but a mere microsecond. His body, desecrated and maimed, with fibrous strands of flesh liberally connected by little more than brittle capillaries woven into tremendous nets, began to heal, flesh stitched, sewn by a miraculous pink light that lay obscured courtesy of the beast's grandiose blanket of sizzling infernal skin.
Potent power gushed forth from within his soul, extravasate in a virulent miasma akin to a plague; it distorted his newly formed muscles with its overbearing vitality as though forcing the rugged and untamed flesh into prostration, the incandescent scars of heated crimson bile that lined his skin healed, replaced by a layer of perfect snow white, no longer sickly and anaemic. His right eye, imploded little more than a wretched pile of nerves, would soon form, however, its visage was disguised by a thick coating of carrion that acted in place of a curtain of an all but see-through sheath.
Unconsciously his visage struggled against the oppression of the troll, or rather, it merely existed against it, for no effort was consciously extradited from Eros's form. Such struggle, however, alerted the beast to the odd change, whereupon it glanced at the youth's formerly besmirched and profaned visage, expecting to see little more than a pile of blood, a pool of crimson carrion embraced by a mound of tattered skin, and his clenched incandescent hands perforating his own leather-like flesh.
Why.
Why did such a sight befall its view?
Instinctually the beast that should have never known fear trembled, the miasmic tendrils of black failing to soothe its neurotic discomposure, the abundant revulsion that swirled within its sanguine stomach sustained by the carapaces of the boy's former peers.
Pink.
Callous, apathetic and indifferent to the troll's vehement unhallowed strength, a pink eye, one not scintillating nor manifesting even the mildest of incandescence, its nature the very antonym of temporal, a permanent fixture upon the boy's face. Hatred was a foregone concept to such a divine construct, it merely peered at the beast with utmost eminence, an aloof, condescending gaze that cared not for the apple of its eye's continued existence.
Panic, pure primordial terror, trepidation indescribable through mortal words. The troll's beady eyes forged of ebony shook, the flames littering its flesh diminishing as though frozen by Eros's antarctic glare, seaweed green singed a mild black, smoke billowing listlessly from its form, yet no pain raped the beast's mind; however, such temporal notion lasted for but a minute. Before the troll could even attempt to clench its hand to kill its former toy-turned-tormentor, Eros would release a smile, one so slight, so seductive that even the creature, barbaric and murderous, would find its heart petrified, its palpitations brought to an abrupt halt, though not out of glee nor lust…it was horrifying, to find pleasure amidst indescribable pain, Eros sought arousal from the creatures despair.
And it was with such a smile that Eros would initiate his rebellion, arms formerly fractured lay liberated, discharged by the prisonous cage of substantial seaweed green, their destination apparent to all who beheld such motion, the gems of bulging ebony that threatened to burst forth from the troll's squashed skull at any given moment. Too fast, the creature had infinitesimal allotment to react, the gelatinous feel of embryonic texture pressed against Eros's dainty hands, his fingers encircling the item until they reached the very depths of the beast's cranium. Howls of anguish erupted from the troll's abhorrent mouth, pugnacious breath embracing Eros's apathetic body with rancour malodor, yet, it failed to repulse the boy, whose hands fully reigned sovereign over the dominion of the troll's eyes.
*gagh*
Eros pulled, though only on one, the right eye. Fibrous sounds of fracturing ruinous strings emanated from the creature's socket. Nerves lay strewn across the boy's palm, littered in a repugnant sunless umbral hue. The beast failed to even mimic its peers when it came to blood. Its very essence was different, malign and pestiferous, vengeful hate gave body. Bile spewed ceaselessly from Eros's defilement, impure stains caking the youth's exquisite head of untamed hair. Still, the boy cared little. Instead, his left hand started to glow, sparking with a dazzling orange light, that of a flame. Fiamma's will, her love-given form. A blazing spark scorched the orifice, unperturbed in its attack, inferno emanating from the very pits of the creature's skull, blood, neigh, the brain boiled, a slicken mass of unknown origin befalling Eros's pure skin.
Like a scorching iron, the troll attempted to let free the boy. However, he merely clung dominantly upon the disconnected eye, its nerves akin to a tether, its legs faltered, thrown off balance, its mind useless, stumbling, tripping, it recoiled only to collapse, its 4-metre titanic form colliding with the ashen land underneath, fracturing it akin to an earthquake, a great chasm of weakened earth splintering below. Blind to the world, it could merely await its imminent death, tentacles of black failing to calm its panicked blood-thirsty heart, vain attacks attempted to grasp Eros's body, to cast the youth away from his position atop the creature's bloated, gluttonous corpse-infested stomach.
Embers of orange continued to spark within the boy's palm, its size nothing compared to Fiamma's, yet its purpose remained resolute, smouldering flesh, sizzling grey matter, blackened bile spewed ceaselessly from the troll's nose, its body convulsing, as though a marionette controlled by an epileptic puppeteer, before it fell silent, the strings that gave way to mortality severed, torched by Eros's recent display of power.
The troll was dead. Its stomach no longer lurched with a zoetic elegance, nor did its dismembered eyes glimmer. Pools of pink mucus clung tightly to the bridge of its beak-like nose. Macabre and grim, its body had been violated, unsanctified by none other than an apostle.
Eros wished to turn to greet the assumed cowering silhouette of Fiamma, yet, his body appeared paralysed, strained to the utmost, while his eye of pink lost its light, though its colour never faded, exhausted, his mind fragmented, Eros's visage turned ruinous and decayed, like a broken toy he neatly collapsed atop the plump singed bowels of the beast he had freshly slain.