Sin

I felt every bit the predator, circling my prey. My mouth watered, but I wanted yet to toy with this pitiable creature, to relieve my stress and to take something so long I’d been denied.

“You look like my brother might have, when we were human. You’re oh-so-pretty, and I think, too soft. What say you to that, slave?” The contempt couldn’t be kept from my voice, and only with great force of will did I refrain from beating and mutilating my victim in this moment.

It only whimpered in reply.

“Too pretty, too pretty to be of any use, I think. Now, my father, he may like you, like you too much if you know what I mean, but I, I think we’ll see if your viscera matches your flesh, if your skull is as youthful its outer covering. All your kind die anyway, and you do so as an effigy, and no human could resist being an effigy for the Beautiful Raziel, could they?” I hissed this last bit, but still forced myself to remain calm. The human was begging, as they all did, wailing as they all wailed, and, if my sense of smell was not mistaken, pissing itself as they all pissed themselves. It was a wonder any of them could even be considered good to eat.

“No, it doesn’t matter what I do, does it? That I can cripple a whole cathedral, make great weapons against us nothing but twisted metal and vacant bags, no. These things are nothing, not when my older brother is so gorgeous, is so favored. I hate Raziel, he makes me sick,” then, with a glance at my captive, I chortled a small laugh, “you make me sick.”

At first, when I’d seen the man I had intended on torturing him, killing him, making him suffer horribly, but now, now that I had him, and saw how very, very like my more loved brother he looked, I couldn’t let him free so simply. Now I had to release what had been building inside me for decades.

The man screamed in utter terror as I ripped his clothes from him, and whimpered ineffectual sobs as I caressed his manhood, now crooning to him as though he were Raziel, not just some poor look alike. The things I felt within me as I touched him, and his body unwillingly responded, began building in my gut, filling me with a sickeningly sweet warmth that spread through me in slow waves, pushing at my flesh, pinpricks beneath my fingertips, and I could suddenly bear it no longer.

I forced myself roughly into him from behind, and he screamed shrilly with every violent thrust. I bit into his neck and yelled when I tasted merely human blood. He was my victim, he was my sin, and he was my absolution. I did not notice when he died, or as he went cold, but kept pushing, kept slamming, feeling nothing but hate, nothing but a forbidden and unquenchable lust.

Raziel was who I wanted, Raziel was the one I burnt for, with a passion that transcended jealousy, and yet, I stood here raping a slave, bleeding my hatred and need into a mere human, who could no more be my brother than any other, regardless his physical resemblance.

It was when the corpse went from limp to rigid, seemingly hours later, that I realized I could never be sated, that I would never be favored by Kain, and that I would never touch my brother Raziel, that he was as far from me as anything could ever be.

I tore every limb from the dead slave, smearing myself in coagulated blood, baptizing myself in hate, steeling myself for one more day. I ripped the pale head from the form, and decided I could in fact use it for something.

What I wouldn’t have given to see Raziel’s face when he opened that box.