Young Writers Society

The heavy odor of illegal drugs littered the shop as Beliel looked through the vinyl records, absently flipping them over. He ran a pale hand through his hair tiding back the black bangs before turning to a woman’s voice, “Bels, wanna come in the back?” the woman was thin with neon blue extensions and a frilled skirt decorated with cartoon skulls.

“No,” he answered coldly, making his way towards the fashion section. Under the luminous black light his skin glowed an enticing purple. “Do you have any belts in stock?” Beliel turned to the woman setting the full power of his eyes on her. Radiance hidden behind centuries of control washed from them. Now they smoldered her with a deep chrome platinum. The cat-like pupils seemed to widen with every thump of the grunge rock pulsing through the shop.

“No,” she began stepping over to him. His feline eyes held her yards away like beautiful shackles. “Bels?”

“Yes Raven,” he addressed the girl by her nick name, his voice hard and cold like a sheet of ice as he went through the heavily chained pants hanging from the roof.

“Ya sure you don’t want to come in back?” she asked showing a bit of leg. Beliel’s slit eyes focused on the revealed thigh, a faint lavender glow wafting through the air from the shine of black lights hitting smoke. He licked his lips slowly before reminding himself she was nothing but a human.

“Pretty sure,” he reminded her just as much as himself. Slowly he remembered how easily he could manipulate this mortal. “Rave,” he addressed her, shortening her name affectionately, his voice strategically letting a bit of human emotion slide in. He was half human so it wasn’t too difficult.

“Yes!” her head snapped up, her black eyes glimmering with interest.

“Sure you’ve got enough room for us in the back?” his grin revealing two sharp canine teeth.

Rave nodded, blush hidden by the shadows residing in the shop.

“Let’s go then,” Beliel mused, sticking his forked tongue out and gliding past her with his predatory grace. Beliel leapt over the counter, the longer portion of his hair flaring back. He snapped his head to the side fixing it and ruffled the back, making sure the spikes were messy enough. Despite Raven’s thoughts he didn’t plan on ruining his hair-do in the back of the store. No matter how hot this girl was. “Ladies first,” Beliel pulled the heavy black door open without effort and made sure she noticed him watching her body, namely her hips as she walked past thanking him. As soon as she was in he followed letting the door close itself. The soft click seemed to echo as he followed her further into the storage room.

A weight slammed into his broad chest, and the metal door knob was buried into his back. Despite the frustrating feeling of the handle stabbing him or the hands now clenched in his hair he found himself aroused by the scent of drugs and the taste of Raven’s lips.

“Don’t waste time do you?” he chuckled a bit before sealing her lips with his own. She’d always been yummy for a human, Beliel thought soundlessly as he parted his lips. He felt a hand slide down from back of head and run itself down his collar then tug at it angrily. Rave let out an annoyed “huff” before giving up and sliding her hands down to his belt and running them inside his shirt. His touch had always been arousing to her.

Always hot. Always igniting her lust. “Raven,” he joked pretending her having her nails digging into the long toned muscles of his chest was something new. Beliel felt teeth grind into his neck playfully. He looked down seeing her eyes clouded with pleasure and lust. He pulled her mouth from his skin, kissed her deeply, then pulled away asking something of her. “Rave, can you Channel for me?” he asked, though he knew with the tone and the way he’d just used his eyes there was no chance she’d tell him no.

“Now?” she whimpered, her deep eyes pleading to go further.

“Now,” he assured her, “and when you’re done,” he added in the same tone making Raven look up thoughtfully, “right back to it.”, his face close to hers. His breath came swifter than expected, its raw sensual scent almost knocking her to her knees. She wondered why he could do it so easily to her, play her like a cheap game. Rave knew he was using her the way he looked at her screamed it. But for a chance to be looked at by those changing eyes or kissed by those hot lips she couldn’t care less. Sighing she dragged her nails down his chest making sure to leave marks.

Raven grabbed his wrists tightly, leading him back like she’d done weeks ago. Only now she was going into the back of a store widely known for its sale of illegal drugs and vintage, punk, and goth clothing instead of to her bedroom. And now she lead him back to be a Medium for him, not a partner for the night. Heat pulsed through her skin, teasing her, telling her to turn around and kiss him again. This time push her body against him harder.

With every other boy that would work fine. Not with Bels. She glanced over her shoulder, he bit at his bottom lip with little interest in anything. Raven noticed herself growing a bit angry. He was so hot without trying.

“K,” she wandered through the dark, her foot jamming into the chair leg. A whimper escaped her lips, and she looked at him while rubbing her foot through the clunky combat boots.

Beliel cleared his throat impatiently.

“Sorry,” she apologized stingily, rolling her eyes. She plopped down relaxing and the unique boy slowly lowered himself to the floor.

A minute went by.

Another.

Beliel fluffed his hair.

“I’m getting nothing,” Raven admitted laying back in chair. Beliel looked back towards her with a bored stare, “And that explains why we haven’t gotten up yet.”

“You’re being such an asshole right now,” she snapped while swinging her legs over the chair’s arm so she could lay down in the cushion. She played with the exotic threading, silently protesting trying again. Suddenly Beliel was upon her, his lips pressing down on hers, his tongue entering her mouth. One of his hands was against her cheek while the other made its way up her stomach and closer around her breast. Then he was gone, his weight, the feeling of his lips and hands, and his scent. All of it gone. Now a silhouette stood in the shadows, seemingly only touchable by the shadows it wore like a garmet.

“That would only be a teaser of what you get when you’re done,” he ruffled his hair again.

“Sure I can’t get some right now?” she asked, putting her feet on the chair’s arm. She realized her skirt must be falling off her thighs but didn’t mind, nothing he hadn’t seen before. Again some of his body pressed down on her, his sharp teeth bite pleasurably into her skin and one strong hand groped at her thigh. A gasp of ecstasy and surprise leapt from her lips. Then he was gone again, laid out on the floor. “Tease,” she stuck her tongue out and glared at him. Beliel’s eyes glowed a bright topaz right now, like a lion’s, the cat like pupil only adding to the resembelence.

“You might need to use that later,” he shot back, his grin seeming to glow in the dark. Raven settled back into the chair.

“Teases or my tongue?” she asked playing dumb, just attempting to keep the conversation sexual.

Bels picked absently at her skirt and boots and let out a bored “both”.

Eager to reap the rewards of this evening she relaxed after kicking and smacking his fingers away so she could concentrate. Nothing came at first. Just the sort of satisfied feeling of having her eyes closed after a long day of work. Then a soft carress like sleep, but it had a forebodeing atmosphere unlike that of rest. Then she felt herself growing light, without the weight of her boots or the bulky studded wristbands and choker, or even the weight of her body. Soon she was gone.

Beliel sat up when she spoke, her tone gurgled, “Beliel? Son of the fallen angel?”

“One and only,” he replied half heartedly while trying in vain to observe his nails in the darkness of the store room.

“What do you request of me?” Raven sat up. Beliel observed that her eyes were rolled back to the whites.

“A prophesy,” he summed up before laying back down and tracing figures in the dust on the floor with a pinky finger.

“A prophesy?” the spirit asked with a slight cackle of amusment. “What makes you think I know your future?”

“Because you walk the path of dead, you aren’t bound to the present. I know humans will not hold themselves to the current time if offered a chance to witness the future. And I hear my future actions cause quite a stir so I’m sure you’ve checked up on them. So be nice. Tell so that cute little girl you’re in right now gets satisfaction tonight,” he lifted the finger he’d been tracing with and tapped it in her direction.

“Yes,” she hissed a demonic grin flowing across her face like a vicious river, “it is hard to not check up on you. Tears in your eye, spears in your gut,” Raven’s finger jabbed into his stomach. “A love from above will save you from Hell but not your life. Only give birth to another.”

“But Hell is such a nice place,” scoffed Beliel sarcastiacally. “So this person I fall in love with, what do they look like?”

“I’m sure more beautiful than the scorched flesh of your mother. How does it feel Half-blood? To know your mother burns in your father’s kingdom?”

“Shut it!” snapped Beliel, sitting up abruptly his eyes blood red.

“But I only speak the truth!” it gawked loudly throwing Raven’s hands into the air like that would prove its innocence. Beliel dropped from his slight crouch. “Half-blood,” it added quietly.

“Bitch!” he snarled, his limit had been reached. His patience lit aflame until no cinders of restrain were left. A solid grip wrapped around the fragile skull. Beliel’s grasp held secure as he raised the thing higher and tossed its body against the wall. In the fit of rage the boy smashed the head against the wall after easily knocking aside the chair.

“Half-blood! Half-blood!” it cackled endlessly, like the pain was giving it reason to taunt him more.

The boy cursed endlessly.

Again the skull smacked into the brick work.

Again.

Again.

Again, now the soft warmth of blood flowing down his palm frenzied him further. All the while the being laughed madly while screeching, “Half-blood mutt!”. The words stabbed at him. They lit ablaze in his rage doused hatred for the phrase, for his blood. Screams tore from his throat in an effort to silence the spirit’s voice, with one last shove the head seemed to shrink in his hand. The thing’s voice was a faint croak now “_mo-n…boy. Horned-huma_” he destroyed what was left, dropping it absently and crushing its chest with his knee. This massacare occured with such little thought, and slowly the process of thought and realization came back to him. Slowly the wrath of his father left him.

Beliel’s hand shone with an unknown light.

Wet. His hand was drenched with something warm and a bit dense, but comforting to hold and clench. It couldn’t all be blood could it? Hesitantly he pushed out his tongue running it over the viscous coating on his hand. Blood.

Fishing out his I-Pod he clicked the center button, his hands trembling. A great brilliance erupted from the screen, knowing what he’d see he turned the screen towards the wall. A crater hung threateningly, grinning at him malevolently. Now he could hardly stand.

He’d never done something like this to someone who mattered.

Tremors of fear and denial shook his hand as he tried lowering the small device's light lower. It flew from his shaky grasp landing a few inches in front of him, lighting up what he'd been trying to see.

His sight fell on the once beautiful girl, now a mangled mess from the neck up. Something in him twisted. The floor stared up at him, coated with something new, mixing with the blood. He tasted bitterness in his mouth and realized he’d vomited. Light still glowed off the blood of

Raven, still clinging to his palm like she had clung to his body.

“Fucker!” he bellowed, smashing his fist into the floor. It crumpled like tin under his strength. Beliel ran the other hand through his hair trying to keep it from falling into the streams of vomit hanging on the corners of his mouth. “I’d damn you for what I am father, but you’ve already been condemned haven’t you,” he growled to an unseen audience, “Lucifer.”