The words Everette spoke, the made a human of me. Lips a bitter poison of ignorance. 

I hated him for how he made me forgive myself and I hated how kind he was. The gentle touch against my cheek, the way pleading eyes hoped to have that night back. It was the only time I could ever give myself completely to someone. I knew him better than his home, than Desert Hill. I hate myself for that.

“Please.” His voice was soft, a touch of spring breeze, the ache in his throat adding a rasp I never knew. It could be pain or illness, something was not right with him. 

I could feel a darkness. It was him. The [redacted]. Everything crushed me at once as I knew hell had found me. The blood of women dead, the innocence of children slain, and I wore it as a crown of evil. Everette was the first I would lose in an endless sea, but in that sea I would drown to keep him afloat.

In a moment of selfishness, I answer. “Okay.”

• any information on the characters and work-in-progress (tags, pinterest, etc.).
• a quote that you’d like displayed (no dialogue between characters, please!).
• an aesthetic/vibe.
• multiple asks are okay! if i need more information, i’ll dm you. please, only send an ask if you’re comfortable with communicating!

you can block this post and its aftermath by blacklisting #noloumnanyc!

@holotones, @montblanchard, @insert-cleverurl, @wildswrites, & @ikilledmyocs.

All eyes fell on the man no one was sure of. Was he to be a savior or a devote believer of their lord? Was he going to be the next evil or another killer behind a sleek gun? Not even Everette knew how to answer the complexity of each question. His studies never taught him how to change your brain; his prayers never got an answer, just empty silence. He hoped that silence meant something and that choice would soon end, with choice came his downfall. 

The dull taste of whiskey burned down his throat, knuckles whitening around the cross hanging loosely from his neck. It was his noose of protection, however more deadly. It was his own deathless death. The quiet of the bar room reminded him of the flaming touches left behind by the human demon. His lips cold yet warm again his neck, hand calloused and hard against his body. That night he promised he wouldn’t leave. The vowed to stand against heaven and hell, that no power would stop them from their deal. Everette wasn’t sure what deal he made, all he remembered was the craving. The voice in the back of his head beckoned him to return to the dreadful place, to the bed made of vipers and the aroma of decay. “Not yet.”  His voice was whispered into the cup, eyes shut tightly as he swallowed hard. “Please God not yet.”