Xibalba and La Muerte Short Stories

A Pleasure to Help

Xibalba always loved his wife; he loved everything about her, from her red dress to her long raven hair. But as much as he loved her he couldn't help but be a bit, devilish around her at times. He found himself trying to run a finger or two through her hair or plant a kiss or two upon her collarbone. His attempts for touch always resulted in some sort of bodily harm done to him by his feisty mi amor. But honestly, every slap and flush and shriek of disapproval only encouraged him, as if this was her way of teasing him until he could stand it no longer. It only put more spirit in the god of the dead. She wore a large sombrero that held candles and fruit and he always wondered how in the realms her head supported it. Her ebony hair was in a long type of ponytail and swirled beautifully around her body that was covered in a patterned dress of crimson, the cuffs at her elbows and white while the end of her dress was at the floor, covering her feet which mysteriously never showed up. Her face pale sugar and dotted and swirled with golden paint while her fiery eyes were half lidded with blue, lovely eyes that took his breath away. In other words, she was a scorching hot, mysterious goddess that literally drove him to madness. (Though in reality as a god he couldn't be driven mad, even though he felt like he was insane sometimes) But it was one of these times where he was incredibly devilish and mischievous around his dear wife, a snake of a man that made her wonder why in the realms she married him. They were within her room of red, La Muerte toying with her hair as she wove a brush through the thick locks. Xibalba watched the brush, mesmerized at its constant, steady pace through her divine hair. He found himself envying the brush and wishing his fingers could do the job for her, run through her locks again and again and again... La Muerte turned from the mirror at the sound of soft babble, the sound her husband usually made when her fingers twirled and teased through his mustache and beard of white. But this time he was not melting in his seat at her touch, he was staring with a drowsy, dreamy expression on his face at her hair, his eyes following the brushes every stroke. She couldn't help but smile, it wasn't a secret her husband liked her hair; she only worked it into her advantage. Feeling particularly playful she stopped brushing her hair and snapped her fingers right in front of his ruby eyes, causing the deity to jolt back to reality. "Now what were you staring at hm?" She inquired. He felt his cheeks grow red hot but thankfully his dark, tar skin kept the color from showing. He coughed and stretched his wings, he was not going to tell her he'd been hypnotized by her brushing her hair, he had his pride after all.

      "N..Nothing my dearest sugar skull, just..." He bit his inner cheek as his eyes searched for some sort of reasoning for looking like an idiot. His lips pulled into a smooth, slick smile, "Just admiring the architecture my lovely goddess, you do after all have a very beautiful room and kingdom at that," The look on her face told him she did not believe a single word he'd just uttered. He managed a chuckle as her arms crossed and her look said, "Seriously? That is the best you could come up with? Smooth talking indeed," But to his surprise she smiled gently and flipped the brush in her hands,

       "You know Balby; it's hard for me to reach the back of my hair, would you mind brushing it for me?" His ruby eyes suddenly glowed with a rascally glint. He took the hairbrush, or rather snatched it as if a cup of cold water in the desert.

       "Why, of course mi amor! You merely had to ask," And with that she turned to the mirror as he moved his little seat closer to her and began to brush her thick, luscious hair in long strokes. Her hair tie was lying on the table, letting her hair flow to its full extent, wild and attractive, just like her. She drowsily began to close her eyes, listening to him hum out of tune with amusement as the steady strokes slowly helped her drift to sleep. When she suddenly sat up and froze as she felt something very wrong. He was plucking at the buttons on the back of her dress, slowly undoing the line of buttons to reveal her undergarments. She knew the buttons stopped just above her hips but even then that was too much skin revealed. Xibalba on the other hand was still humming out of tune, his eyes focused intently on undoing the buttons that showed a silky white under dress that didn't do much to protect her body. The brush forgotten and only buttons on his mind he didn't have a second to blink before she shrieked in rage and spun to him. With a swipe of her hand she gave him a hard slap across the face, knocking Xibalba to the floor and left to face an enraged La Muerte. She stared at the damage he'd done through the reflection of the mirror and glared at him furiously,