He came from the dark and deep, clawing his way up, from underneath the ocean’s floor. Eyes as black as the absence of all light, clouded by the still of death. Cutting through the frigid water with razor-lined wings. He shrieked and all the life, at the bottom of the sea, ceased to be.
There were no more sea slugs, starfish, jellyfish, or urchins. Plankton spontaneously flickered out of existence. Whales cried, before they died. The ocean sterilized of its vibrant creatures, cradled the lifeless remains of its children. No one can really tell when the sea weeps, but I can tell you for a fact that it cried the day he was birthed from the dark and the deep.
He found her in a diner, somewhere in Wisconsin. She was the worst waitress in the world. She couldn’t even remember what type of pie he wanted. She served him pecan, though he had made it clear that he was allergic to nuts. What? Yeah, even a prince of darkness had his flaws… but he ate the slice anyway on account of the way she looked up at him with those big, dead eyes of hers.
When his face swelled up, she just giggled, and stabbed him in the neck with an EpiPen. She could have injected him anywhere, but she was partial to the jugular.
They hit the road. Wherever they passed through, destruction and ruin followed. Not for them, but certainly all of the people whose lives they touched, even in the faintest way.
War, plague, famine, and pestilence; these were the tools of his trade. The medium for his art was violence and pain. He took great pleasure in obliterating those he deemed less worthy. She simply took great pleasure in being by his side; loving and empathetic. Although, sometimes she’d still stab him in the gut, or the back, just keep him on his toes…
Things were good, until one day she went to the bathroom and never came back. He waited nine days for her to return, but she never did. It was like she vanished into thin air; dissolved back into the atmosphere where all lovely dreams and wicked nightmares are eventually recycled. She returned to the mists of the otherworld.
So he, setting his crown down on the bench in front of a bus station, willed the atoms of his form to come undone. He would return to the darkness from which he came. What good was darkness, without light?
“But enough about him. It’s her you should keep your eye on.”
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- submarinedreams said: D: you killed the whales. ~cries~
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