The Oak Tree & the Resurrection Fern
Chapter Three
Before he could blink, Maria's teeth were in his neck and a blinding pain was traveling through him. Jasper tried to scream; but his vocal chords were paralyzed. His body jumped and twitched and he arched his back in agony as the demon- angel's teeth left his neck and shredded through both of his wrists.
"Oh, he tastes good!" Maria giggled, punching the redhead in the shoulder playfully.
"Poor little mortal. I feel bad for him."
The red-haired one shook her head in dismay, worry furrowing her perfect brow.
Jasper didn't even notice. The pain was too fierce.
He had been shot once. The bullet had went through his side and almost nicked a major blood vessel. It had hurt like hell, and even though it had happened over a year ago, the deep scar still ached sometimes.
That was nothing compared to this.
The bullet, tearing through his flesh and ripping apart his nerves would have been welcome.
Jasper's pain-muddled thoughts carried him back to the first hanging he'd ever seen: A cattle rustler was sentenced to dangle from the old oak on the hill 'til he died.
Jasper remembered the look of agony on the man's weathered face as the sheriff had pushed him off the platform. The man's gurgled screams had echoed through the valley as he slowly suffocated to death, the angle of the drop not enough to break the poor bastard's neck.
Jasper would have traded places with him in a split second. He was tied to a stake, burning like Joan Of Arc. He was being torn apart by the lions in the Colosseum, he was being crushed to death by a pile of boulders.
The pain burned on through his limbs, and the teeniest bit of relief came over him as he felt the burning fire ease out of his fingers and move up to his lungs. He stopped breathing as the fire consumed them too, but his heart, amazingly, was still beating on. It gathered speed, galloping like a deer trying to outrun the wolves. The fire drained out of his limbs and concentrated on the poor organ, and his heart sustained one continuous beat as the worse pain of all gathered in his chest.
Minutes passed, and with one final, pitiful thump, his heart quit beating and the pain ceased. He opened his eyes, and was shocked with the clarity of his sight. He could hear everything, see for miles. Night didn't make any difference, he could still see straight through to forever.
And he saw, before the smell of blood drove him into madness, a beautiful, dark-haired girl sitting on top of a rock, watching him.
It looked like she was crying.
"Oh, he tastes good!" Maria giggled, punching the redhead in the shoulder playfully.
"Poor little mortal. I feel bad for him."
The red-haired one shook her head in dismay, worry furrowing her perfect brow.
Jasper didn't even notice. The pain was too fierce.
He had been shot once. The bullet had went through his side and almost nicked a major blood vessel. It had hurt like hell, and even though it had happened over a year ago, the deep scar still ached sometimes.
That was nothing compared to this.
The bullet, tearing through his flesh and ripping apart his nerves would have been welcome.
Jasper's pain-muddled thoughts carried him back to the first hanging he'd ever seen: A cattle rustler was sentenced to dangle from the old oak on the hill 'til he died.
Jasper remembered the look of agony on the man's weathered face as the sheriff had pushed him off the platform. The man's gurgled screams had echoed through the valley as he slowly suffocated to death, the angle of the drop not enough to break the poor bastard's neck.
Jasper would have traded places with him in a split second. He was tied to a stake, burning like Joan Of Arc. He was being torn apart by the lions in the Colosseum, he was being crushed to death by a pile of boulders.
The pain burned on through his limbs, and the teeniest bit of relief came over him as he felt the burning fire ease out of his fingers and move up to his lungs. He stopped breathing as the fire consumed them too, but his heart, amazingly, was still beating on. It gathered speed, galloping like a deer trying to outrun the wolves. The fire drained out of his limbs and concentrated on the poor organ, and his heart sustained one continuous beat as the worse pain of all gathered in his chest.
Minutes passed, and with one final, pitiful thump, his heart quit beating and the pain ceased. He opened his eyes, and was shocked with the clarity of his sight. He could hear everything, see for miles. Night didn't make any difference, he could still see straight through to forever.
And he saw, before the smell of blood drove him into madness, a beautiful, dark-haired girl sitting on top of a rock, watching him.
It looked like she was crying.