Status: Inspired by My Way Home is Through You - MCR "C'mon angel, don't you cry."
Don't You Cry
And So It Dies
Long, flowing black hair, like waves breaking against the shore at midnight. Her pink lips parted as she drew in a long ragged breath, pale skin not able to flush with her panic. Delicate, unscarred porcelain skin, smooth as satin, ready to be broken. The knife scratched down her cheek, so much beauty, so much purity, straight from Heaven itself.
Her wide, grey eyes stared up at me, pleading, begging.
“Is He watching?” I whispered.
“He is always watching.” Her voice was filled with desperation.
“He won’t help you. You are one casualty in this world that you don’t belong in. Why are you here, darling?”
“I don’t know.” Her clear, musical voice broke, and she gasped, eyes bulging in absolute terror. “He has to help. He is the Saviour.”
I smiled as she begged “He will help.” Such an evil God, to fill their minds with false hope.
The silver dagger paused at the edge of her lips before I pulled back and dug it into the lower right of her stomach. A gagging noise escaped her lips as silver blood pooled around the wound. She blinked hard and grabbed my wrist. I knew she would not fight, they are not made to use violence.
“Why?”
I intertwined my fingers in hers. “C’mon angel, don’t you cry.” I said as a single black tear escaped her eyes, now turning white.
“Please, I’m begging you.”
“I’m sorry, darling, but you have something I need.”
Her eyes widened in horrified realisation as I plunged the dagger into her chest and pulled out her heart, slightly paler than a human’s. Her body collapsed, broken and beautiful, sad even. I ran a scarred hand through her hair, and turned. Her God was too late.
Her wide, grey eyes stared up at me, pleading, begging.
“Is He watching?” I whispered.
“He is always watching.” Her voice was filled with desperation.
“He won’t help you. You are one casualty in this world that you don’t belong in. Why are you here, darling?”
“I don’t know.” Her clear, musical voice broke, and she gasped, eyes bulging in absolute terror. “He has to help. He is the Saviour.”
I smiled as she begged “He will help.” Such an evil God, to fill their minds with false hope.
The silver dagger paused at the edge of her lips before I pulled back and dug it into the lower right of her stomach. A gagging noise escaped her lips as silver blood pooled around the wound. She blinked hard and grabbed my wrist. I knew she would not fight, they are not made to use violence.
“Why?”
I intertwined my fingers in hers. “C’mon angel, don’t you cry.” I said as a single black tear escaped her eyes, now turning white.
“Please, I’m begging you.”
“I’m sorry, darling, but you have something I need.”
Her eyes widened in horrified realisation as I plunged the dagger into her chest and pulled out her heart, slightly paler than a human’s. Her body collapsed, broken and beautiful, sad even. I ran a scarred hand through her hair, and turned. Her God was too late.