Scraps and Sketches

I have a few scenes--or a few hundred--that, sadly, will never make it into any of my books. Or, if they do, they will most likely be refined from the raw state that I originally typed them in, and in some cases prefer to read them. So, for the enjoyment of all to read and criticize, here are a few of my favorite scraps and sketches from a variety of stories that may or may not be published. Ever.
**Note: There may be some content viewed as graphic for violent/gore purposes, mixed with far more mild scenes.

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2. Demon

Excerpt from "Realm", a colab with paperboyhat

 

 

 

Demon

 

     The Shadow stepped from the darkness of the hall, pausing in the doorway.  The human asleep in the room wouldn’t wake up no matter what noise the creature made, it knew.  The human hadn’t woken up to any of the screams, after all.

     The moonlight from the window cast a pale castle of light across the floor, adding just enough glow to distinguish the few other items in the room aside from the bed.  It also gave the human in the bed a somewhat surreal quality.  Her skin, already pale, became almost silvery, while her hair still maintained a tinge of its golden hue.  The muscles on her face twitched ever so slightly as she dreamt.

     Ignoring the natural instinct to avoid any source of light, the Shadow stepped up beside the bed, breathing in the distinct scents of the colors surrounding him.  They were all stale, matching the visual pallor of everything there.  It stood there for a moment, frowning at a very slight dilemma in its plan.  It wasn’t hungry just yet.

     The muscles across the demon’s shoulders rippled beneath the dark Shadow flesh as it hunched forward.  It shook itself with a grumble in an attempt to forcefully awaken the burning hunger to enjoy this kill more. 

     In the moments it waited, the years of practice for control stirred like a young child’s waking.  The Shadow blinked slowly, staring at the girl with new interest.  It could remember things of her.  How she annoyed the demon utterly, how she’d repeatedly hurt it even if unintentionally, how she desired for nothing more than its head on a pole.  It came to a simple conclusion then.  No matter if it was hungry or not, the girl had to die in order for itself to survive.

     As it reached out a hand for her smooth, pretty little throat, something else swirled in the fog of a vague, nearly non-existant control.  It didn’t want her hurt.  It didn’t want to see her upset or cry.  It wanted her safe, from the other Shadows, from the Rebellion, from itself.  It loved her.

     The Shadow gave a growl.  But it had to survive.  There was no other option.  She must die.  Yet the conflicting thoughts, feelings, told it otherwise.  That if she were to die, it must give up, too.  That without this frail, pathetic excuse of an Elite the all-mighty demon would crumple, fall and end.

     Irritation flared.  But it was hungry!  It wanted this thing, this fresh, succulent meat so that the blood could quench its thirst and the meat staunch its starvation.  It struggled with itself for a moment, semi-reasoning that if it ate her, then it would have her forever.  While at the same time it didn’t want to so much as scratch the human.

     She sighed, rolling over with a small smile.

     The Shadow went rigid, inward argument forgotten entirely.

     She’d moved, smiled, even.  The human heart buried beneath the thick layers of Shadow flesh thumped excitedly.  Did that mean she was happy?  For the first time it had seen in... weeks?  Months?  Or was this the first time he’d seen her smile, peacefully, at all?

     Fire erupted beneath the Shadow’s skin abruptly, making it snarl.  The scent of the human was luscious, a delicate fruit too rare to find to devour so swiftly.  It snarled again as it realized it craved not her but her flavor, imagining just how cool her blood would be down its gullet.

     Only half in control, it dove for the window, wishing it could get away before control was lost to the need for live flesh.  There was a brief pause in momentum as it shattered through the window.  The wind whistled for a long moment while it plummeted, at ease for the briefest second in the crisp night air.

     The demon landed skillfully.  The alley echoed with a boom as its feet touched the earth.  The rats and mice native to the area shrieked and scampered away in terror.  A homeless man peered out from behind a dumpster.  The demon snarled excitedly.

     “What the f--?”

     Food.

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