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Hell spits on every paradise - floating across the styx...
"Wake up, my lion..."
And he did, lying on the desert soil beneath a cloak of starlight at night. It looked like the Negev, or perhaps that was his mind playing tricks again. Just another night terror, yet he was fully awake and lucid. It all felt vivid, real, and painful when he saw her. Not a ghost of a faded memory, but her in the flesh, naked, on top of him, whispering a sweet bunch of nothings into his ear while riding him. He watched her features flickered in the campfire's light ; he was lost in her eyes, her moans, her warmth...
He shouldn't have been there ; he knew it, but he didn't want to leave, even as it felt like life itself seeped out of him with each passing moment. Because it did, and he was moment before going into a hypovolemic shock due to blood loss.
He embraced it.
And so be it. Have me, my soul, my beautiful soul.It wasn't long before he heard the hissing of snakes and noticed golden scorpions beginning to crawl over his lover. She accepted them, having no concern over what was unfolding, no matter how horrified he looked at her. Their stings burned with pain, and then the snakes struck at them both, biting at their flesh, shooting venom. Her nails sank into his chest, piercing his flesh until they reached his ribcage, tearing open a h
ole where the snakes and scorpions slithered inside. He would've screamed if he could, but he only stared at her, and she kept riding.
Posted 7/23/2025, 11:00 PM