Post by The Black Orchid on Sept 19, 2014 22:52:04 GMT -6
††† Parental and NSFW Advisory †††
††† Scenes will contain Violence of a graphic nature, Foul Language and Adult Content. †††
††† You've been warned. †††
†††††††††††††††††††† Praise Him ††††††††††††††††††††
She stepped through the old rusted gates. Hands pushed at the cast iron gate as she stepped through. “Praise Him.”, she said softly. As if it were a mantra. But the question was, who was she speaking TO?
“Praise Him.”, she said again. Softly. Eerily. “Bring me death. Bring me glory.”
“My Master. My Lord, I'm here.”, her voice reverent and serene. Her steps were slow, but seemed to have a mind of their own as she walked through the rows of headstones. “Come to me.”
“I'm waiting, here, for You.”, she purred softly. “He has promised me a glorious death.”, sounds of her feet moving through the dead leaves and branches snapping under bare feet were heard. But only just. “Give it to me now. I want Him to know my devotion.”
Something growled behind her, but she didn't turn to look back. Slowly she made her way deeper into the cemetery. “Praise..Him. Let His name be the last thing I hear. Let His breath on my skin be the last thing I feel.”
She weaved her way through row upon row of headstones. Until finally, she came to the epicenter of the cemetery. A huge monument. One of an angel. And it seemed to be... weeping.
The statue itself was grey marble. It was female. The dress the angel wore was a simple gown. Tied at the waist with, what looked like, a bit of rope. The hair of the angel was pulled back and a-fixed to it's head in a bun at the back with a band around it's forehead as if to keep stray strands from falling into it's face. Wings sprout from it's back and were extended out a bit. The hands of the angel were raised up to cover her face.. As if she were weeping.
The Priestess knelt on the ground before the angel. “I was lost in the shadows. But He found me. His love.. was a beacon.. that led me from darkness.. To light. And now.. I am blinded by His majesty. Humbled by His glory!”
She heard the growl behind her again and lifted her head up to gaze upon the statue. Had it moved? The face upon the angel seemed so.. serene. But the hands no longer covered the face. The hands were reaching towards the Priestess. Arms lifted up as if to grab for her.
She didn't seem scared. No fear crossed her face or entered her eyes.
“Why is it that we, The Children, should be remotely worried about two back-wood, inbred rednecks from the sticks?”
“Boys.. Little boys who know nothing of what true divine love is. What it feels like. Two little children who've no idea what the rapture of true Faith feels like as it rolls over you in waves of pleasure.”
“You grasp at straws. You've been grasping at straws since you came to U.W.A. Yet you can't seem to reach anything.. tangible.”
“You're vain. You're blasphemous. You know not what it really means to.. Be. Be desired. Be worshiped.”
“You both shall know.. What it means to fall at your knees before The Children. You both shall know what it feels like to find unfailing Faith. You shall BOTH know what TRUE sacrifice is!”
She lifted her head once more to gaze upon the form of the angel.. And it was in that moment that the Priestess was lifted off the ground; by the throat. She was tossed backwards; landing on her back upon one of the crypts.
She laid there, arching her back, as the thing began to spread her legs. The sheer gown she wore was pushed up...
...And into the darkness, cries of passion could be heard.