DARIEN VALENTINE
“Some say the world will end in fire, some ice, and still others claim humanity… If there is one thing I’m certain of, it’s that Valentine will screw us all.”
Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.
Four be the things I'd be better without:
Love, pity, vanity, and doubt.
~
Waiting was dreary, it was continuous granite of a blasé color from which my eye could not determine novelty in, but rather grow glossy and unfocused. Being able to stand it no longer, I turned to my surroundings to find interest, and set out to drown the gray of triviality. The trees about me curled in on themselves, creating the impression that they could not stand the prospect of sharing their soil with others- we unclean beings, and vaguely, they reminded me of conceited children shying away from a particularly offending insect.. Alas, would be blasphemy if I claimed I was any unlike these provincial saplings. I am a leech; I required an incarnate host to feed off of, fear to feed off of, my instincts opt to decompose all rivalry, and I find humanity repulsive The grass was a polychrome of sullied blood and ill lurking, the scent alone was stimulating me, and was more or less painful. It took a ridiculously great deal of restraint to put myself in check. It was perplexing and strenuous. Why? Why that I not be tempted by the fairest of mistresses, but even the sight of blood would have my body in betrayal? I think the answer would be clear. There are so many beautiful things to be sought after, so much pleasure to seek- but what is it that we all fear, and none at all want? Death. I find it so mesmerizing, so.. Powerful. The fragrance was exquisite and piquant, and my saliva proceeded to create a substantial loch under my unexpectedly much too arid tongue. I was ashamed that I could be so easily slaved to what ran through my own veins, even when I knew I had no control over it.
Before I smelled her, before I had heard her steps, saw her or even sensed her, I tasted her. For a minute, I was so overcome with the milky cinnamon intoxicant slithering down my esophagus that I was concerned, should she appear, my self-discipline (or lack thereof) would falter. The fantasy of consuming: it was wholesome, and it was satisfying. It put my longing to rest, if only for a while. Though what I experienced was artificial, I did not find myself in consideration; just the bouquet and a little bit of the mind's eye were enough to have my pupils dilated in delightful lust. Soon enough the rest of my senses caught up, and the appealing serpent presented herself. Her fur was as thin as gauze, and I fought to find in myself the sympathy to ask if it was capable of keeping her warm in the winter. But it was challenging to remain on such a small detail, when another seemed to take the gold. Her eyes possessed a calico quality that I’ve never before seen in persons belonging to the lupine family- in a cat, sure, but on no occasion had I seen a wolf that appeared this way, never. One half of her face was dominated by an ocean of salty blue, the other the lushest of green forests. Like a dawn and dusk, the difference they showed was ironic and outlandish. Almost entirely white, she depicted a virgin. It was this same guiltless façade that made her that much more striking. Her movements were languid and professional, her mien enticing and challenging. I could only assume she was tall in rank, and it was hard put to suppress my trembling jaws. They wanted her blood, I wanted her blood, but we both were caught up by the net of intelligence and cast back into the hellish asylum where we’d watch and bid our time. As she drew closer, I came to a very perilous decision. She was delicious.
Her words did not fall upon deaf ears. In reply I swallowed, excuse the pun, all thoughts of slaughter and tried my finest to act even remotely interested in what she was saying. Though she was gorgeous, scrumptious, regal, and unusual, not to mention that I was thankful she’d come to my aid, I doubt I’ll ever be able to see her as anything more than a banquet. Finding a close-mouth smile rather fitting, and a lot safer should her curried musk still linger, I presented it to her in acknowledgment for her heartfelt welcome. "Thank you, but I wouldn’t say new so much as I would original. I appreciate the gesture, though.” I added with a bit of arrogance. I knew I wasn’t unpleasant to behold, in fact, I’d think that you could so far as to call me attractive, and it hasn’t gone unused, that gift, but I’ve never been one to publicize it too greatly. ”I’m Darien; I’ll save you the formality of last names. I don’t think I need to explain why I’m here, but I’d be grateful to take up as little of your time as possible.” Saying that was as much for her benefit as mine. I had no interest in speaking to dinner, though I wouldn’t mind if she would be kind enough to stand motionless and let me suck in her incredible expulsion.
The thing I would really like to know, was she about to let the lion into her house? –Reference to song
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