Inky ^beta

Monster.

Blasphemous traitor.

His own thoughts roared louder than any other, damning him for his worst crime against the lord yet. There was nothing to be done; he blamed himself even for his weakness, too. He stared blankly at his hands, adorned with the splatters of his own wrath. An angel’s wrath. A crime the heavens couldn’t, wouldn’t ignore. It wouldn’t be long before retribution struck him from above. He needed to act fast, atone for his sins while he still could. As Brutal walked behind in silence, the angel began to count the worst of his sins.

Gluttony. Sloth. Greed. Pride. Envy. Wrath.

His feathers started to fall like hail, making a trail towards the church doors that he didn’t quite notice through his cries.

Vision obscured by thick, crimson tears, the angel stumbled on frail legs to the steps before the altar, sinking to his knees and praying in words slurred together by his weeping. His body shivered, hands clasped together and forfeiting himself to the lord’s mercy. Every prayer he could conjure escaped his lips, though very soon he ran out of them, as if he’d completely lost the way of God. He was ashamed; he wished he could just be damned and be done with the holy way then and there- no, he wouldn’t lose faith. He tried to hush that thought as soon as it came; he couldn’t quite shake it. And so he continued to weep, tears less and less holy- leaving dark red bloodstains on the carpet beneath him- as they flowed, a pathetic mess in search of any forgiveness he could receive.

Then, he opened his eyes. He would soon regret it; as soon as he looked up at the grand stained glass mural in front of him, a chill ran down his spine. His reflection, it looked different. The glass did not mirror his bloody tears, or even the look of despair on his face. Instead, it smiled back at him.

“What?! Do you have anything to say for yourself, demon?” It was far too late for his outburst to feel cathartic.

The reflection’s smile remained still as the demon took a deep breath; as he spoke, the mirror image in the glass moved. "Oui.. it’s time.”

“I should’ve went straight to the lord when I first heard you. Now, you’ve made me this.. foul being! Hardly fit to be an angel..” Pure was still making halfhearted attempts to pray, falling short each time he recognized the demon staring back at him. If only he could’ve repented before it was too late; then again, considering he had no desire to return to heaven ever again, it seemed pointless to declare his undying faith over and over. He'd blamed everything on the demon, when it was all his own doing, after all.

“I couldn’t agree more,” the demon mocked with a chuckle as the angel closed his eyes once more. ”We were not meant to be an angel, after all. We are so much more.” Pure pretended to ignore him; that only pushed his other half further. ”You should really be more proud of yourself.. all of those sins, they’ve made you beautiful.”

“I would prefer if you kept quiet, I am trying to pray. Better yet, I’d be much better without you.” The angel finally dared to glare at his reflection, who was hardly phased.

”You are nothing without me. I am you.”

As soon as Pure’s eyes wandered away from the reflection, he noticed the shadow looming over him. He knew who it was; he was too weak, too slowed by exhaustion to tell Brutal to go away. Maybe he truly wanted the freak by his side, the only person that could possibly comfort him at his supposed end. Unfortunately he wouldn’t get comfort just yet, as Brutal gripped his shoulder and spun the angel around to face him by force alone, lifting him from the steps with ease to press him against the very same glass panes.

“I’m real prouda ya, angel. Bet yer prouda yourself too, huh?” He whispered against the angel’s burning cheek, tormenting him with the thought of the god he placed on a pedestal hearing their every word. Something had changed; he sure hoped the freak hadn't heard him all but admit to his own fall from grace.

“Bien sûr que non,” Pure hissed back, staring at the glass murals that seemed to be closing in on them. “Get away,” his voice was too weak to sound threatening, though he dug his fingers into the shoulder of the man looming over him.

“Nah, y’don’t want me to do that,” Brutal’s hands traveled upwards to cup the angel’s cheek, every touch curing another dull ache. “Ya did good.. heh, not so pure now are ya?”

“À cause de toi,” Pure began, quickly biting his tongue. Just as soon as he’d spoken, he remembered the blame was all his; he’d foolishly misunderstood his assignment, and destroyed his reputation all of his own accord. “..I am nothing but a weak minded fool.” He murmured as he unconsciously leaned further into one of the freak’s unusually delicate hands, only for Brutal to return to instinct and roughly grab the angel’s chin.

“Y’know what I think? I think ya’ve come a long way from bein’ a bible totin’ freak, love.”

Pure felt another ache once more, knowing well that their distance was not the cause. This time it was his heart that pleaded in distress, nearly beating out of his chest. It made him feel even more pathetic, the amount of power that Brutal had over him. “Why must you call me that?”

“What, y’don’t like it?” The monster dared to grin, and the angel’s control seemed out of reach.

“No, I..” The words slipped before he could think, not that he could think straight at all in Brutal’s embrace. “Well, it’s just-“

His breath was taken away in an instant. Just as he thought the freak couldn’t get any closer, Brutal’s lips crashed against his own. He was sure his heart had stopped beating, giving out for the fireworks inside him to take its place. He didn’t realize how long he’d been waiting for this. He wanted Brutal, that much was clear; but the freak had finally swept him away completely, and he could hardly contain- what exactly, he couldn’t tell.

He wouldn’t be content with faith any longer. He wouldn’t dedicate himself to servitude. He wouldn’t even accept just staying by the freak’s side; he wanted all of Brutal. All of his brazen nature, the gentleness he would show in spite of it… his touch, more and more..

Freedom felt great. All too great; it was a rush, power and emotions and lust all at once, a beast untamed in his own right. As he suddenly shoved Brutal away, he was truly overcome by it all. He could hear the sound of glass shattering, the world crumbling around him, though it was only distant. There was a weight lifted off his shoulders as he rolled them back, a deep sigh escaping him as the weight alone carried all of his fears away. It felt like a fresh start, though he hadn’t yet glanced down at what exactly had changed. The shackles of purity, restraints of the lord had been lifted. He was no longer Pure; he was as Impure as all of the dark desires residing under his porcelain skin.

Once Pure had shoved him away, Brutal could see nothing. There was nothing but light, red and radiant like a flood light in his line of sight. First, he panicked; for once, even he was fearful of divine punishment. He couldn’t lose the angel again, not now. He scrambled back on his knees again to get a better view, hopefully pull Pure from whatever holy smiting he was due to receive. Then, the red faded only to spots in his vision. Pure was gone, or at least he’d thought so until he locked eyes with the demon in front of him.

He was absolutely breathtaking; Pure’s same soft, soothing gaze with a hint of something more, the glint in his blood red eyes revealing a more devious side of him that he would never previously confess to. His hair had turned the deep black of a raven, adorned with red horns and a considerably damaged- only half remained intact- halo. Though the former angel’s wings still twinkled, they were reduced to feathery nubs barely visible over his shoulders. Pure- if he could even be called that still- was the most beautiful enigma Brutal had ever seen; even so, he had questions.

“Pure, is- is that you?”

“Is something wrong?” He was fishing around suddenly, grabbing at one of the glass shards beside him to get a glimpse of his reflection; he hadn’t realized said glass was from the shattered mural behind him, too occupied by his newfound appearance to care. Why should he care about an old church, anyway? “Holy fuck…”

“Yer alright? Not- hurt, or possessed, or-“

“Non, I am all me. Truly me.” Brutal shivered as sharp nails- talons, really- reached for his cheek, then softly grazed against his skin down to his chest. “You freed me. I hope,” there was a pause, as Impure mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. “You will love me, as I am..” He smiled hopefully, expectantly.

“Pure, yer-“ The other hand lifted to press another claw to his lips, shushing him impatiently.

“Call me Impure.”

“..Right, okay. Impure…” Brutal stared, and stared. Awestruck and- for once, the one who was speechless. He practically had to force himself to speak in a timely manner. “‘Course I do, this don’t change a thing.”

Impure wasn’t so satisfied with that answer. “I do not deter you..?”

“God- no, ‘course not!” The idea alone was completely unbelievable to the hopelessly enamored freak. “I can’t take my eyes off ya, love. Ya just keep gettin’ more ‘n more gorgeous..” Brutal tucked a few raven curls behind the demon’s ear, which he’d only then noticed were much longer and pointed. “I’m so proud ‘f ya, darl’.”

The demon, by his nature, couldn’t hold himself back for much longer, yanking the freak down by the back of his neck for another, much hungrier kiss. Right away, this kiss was different; the demon’s prodding tongue, desperate for a taste of his own, was forked at its end like a snake. Fangs sharp as daggers nibbled desperately at his bottom lip, though it was clear neither of them minded the taste of blood mixed within as soon as Impure got a taste for himself.

Brutal was startled by something else snaking up his back, pulling away from the kiss all too fast and dizzying himself in the process; yet when he glanced back and tugged on what he soon realized was the demon’s tail, it was Impure who was giggling- the same giggle he’d fallen in love with, after all.

“Ya little devil,” the freak gave the tail an extra tug for good measure, taking his own pleasure in the demon’s yelp. As he shuffled and shifted his weight to pull Impure closer, he nearly landed on another shard of glass; that was about enough of the church he would tolerate. “C’mon love, we’ve got better places ta be.”

Impure, admittedly, hadn’t even noticed the state of the church around them, or that he’d caused it. Only when he recalled the sounds and the chaos of his transformation did he piece the puzzle together, adorned with another evil grin. “You can say that again.”

The wary look on Brutal’s face as they stood made the demon nervous again.

“Yer wings..”

Impure straightened his back again; to him, that was hardly an issue. “Oh, I am so much more free without their weight! And besides,” the freak wasn’t given much of a choice as the demon leapt into his arms. “They will only make it much easier for you to hold me, don’t you think?”

“Yer a menace.”

“And you love me for it.”

“Sure do.”