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Vincent's den.
Stories and other random s**t...yay...
Somewhere in the distance, a crow caws dully as thunder clapps across the skies, grey with thunderclouds, the air cold and sharp, the heavy, menacing clouds break and the wind whips the rain through the clothes of citizens like sheets of ice as they scurry for shelter, shivering beneath black umberella's as they pulled their coats closer around them. But, somehow, this didn't apply to one man as he walked the streets silently, his torso bare, as if he couldn't feel the rain, his feet shoeless, as if the icy cold feeling of the wet pavement didn't chill his bones.

His skin pale, set upon his back were large, black feathered wings, and atop his head were large, twisted horns. Each finger came to a claw, just as his toes did, and, with eyes as jet black as coal, and just as empty and cold as the grey pavement below his feet, the fangs set in his jaw were bare, free of any flesh and skin, so it was just bone that showed. He would've taken his human form, but, being shoved forward through time takes a lot of energy, even if it's against your own free will...and, now, to take his human form, he needed blood...

And, just in the mouth of an alleyway, three bikers stood, tall, stocky, brawny, largely boned and muscled. Two of them weren't as big, but the one furthest into the alley was bigger then them, tall and heavyset, possibly at least thirty-four, maybe even younger, but it was hard to tell. By his side, hooked on one end of a chain, the other end in the man's hand, stood a dog, well over a hundred pounds, all bristling hair and wicked dark markings. The dog was neither one identifiable breed or another, but some freakish combination, and its stance suggested a barely restrained fury. It disliked the demon instinctively, as all animals did, but it was frightened of him too.

Wearing a black shirt, dark blue, oil stained jeans, and black boots, the man's stance, like the dog's, was strained and cocky; there was no mistaking the bully in him. Most of what he had gotten in life, he had aquired through intimidation or theft. When he smiled, as he did now, there was no warmth.
"Hey, you there. Nice costume, but...Halloween s'not for a few weeks now. You're a little early, mate," the man sneered, and he accomplices laughed.

The demon stopped in his tracks, and, managing a smirk through his bare fangs, he turned, fixing the biker with a hard, cold stare. He could almost visibly see the man's skin shiver and crawl with unease. The man knew, somehow, that he had just made a mistake, but he was too brave, to proud, to admit it.
"So, why don't you just take the costume off, save yourself the embarassment..." the Demon watched as the man jiggled the dog's chain, and the dog snarled.

After a moment, the demon grinned, turning completely, cocking his head at the man."Oh, I don't think I could do that," he said, his bland features crinkling warmly, his strange eyes fixing the man. "I can't take these off, not unless you want me to bleed everywhere. You'd then have to rush me to the hospital, and then you'd have to explain yourself... That's not very good news for you, is it?" The man was staring at him, beginning to shake, though it seemed as if he were shaking for no apparent reason.

"Lookie here, bud, stop messing with me and take the costume off, before my dog here takes it off for you!" The demon shook his head reprovingly. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you. I'd keep a tight hold on that chain until I'm well down the road from here." He crossed his arms pver his chest. "Tell you what. I'm a fair man. You just made a big mistake, but I'm willing to let it pass. I'll forget all about it if you apologize. Just say your sorry and that will be the end of it."

The biker's mouth dropped, and his acomplices muttered to each other with confused looks. "What? What did you say?" The demon smiled some more. "You heard me." For an instant the biker froze, the disbelief on his face apparent. Then he mouthed a string of obscenities, lurched forward slightly, and released the chain on the dogs collar. "Oops!" he snarled at the demon, flinging the chain away disdainfully, eyes hot and furious.

But the demon had already invoked his skill, a small, spare movement of one hand that looked something like the blessing of a minister at the close of a service. Outwardly, nothing seemed to change. But, something profound had changed in the man. His look and smell and movement had become those of a frightened rabbit, flushed from cover and desperately trying to scurry to safety. The dog reacted on instinct. In wheeled on the biker instantly, lunging for his throat. The man gave a cry of shock and fear as the dog slammed into him, knocking him from his feet.

The man's hands came up as he tumbled into the cold, dead pavement below, and he tried desperately to shield his face. The dog tore at the man, and the biker's cries turned to screams. Drops of blood flew through the air. Scarlet threads laced the wet floor of the alleyway. The demon just stood watching for several moments, before he fixed the accomplices with a black, dead stare, and a cold, deathly grin. They tried to back away, but the demon was already upon them, and their screams went unheard as thunder and rain muffled each and every sound, even the dull caws of a black crow that sat atop a street sign, its black feathers sleek with the rain as it watched the demon with black, beady eyes...
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I dont take credit for this. This insanely creative and wonderful piece of writing was written by my boyfriend, Jacob. (Strange IMAGINATION)





 
 
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