daughter of hell

daughter of hell 62

A guy that smelled like iron had me backed up against a wall and hold me with a viscious looking sword, a falchion. Good thing that unlike a vampire I didn't need to breath, for if I had needed to I would have died, there was no way I dared to make even the insignificant movement of breathing when someone held a sword that was little more than a meat cleaver. This type of sword was not used by men who fought to win, it was handed by men who did not only win, but also killed. You could not stab with this weapon, you slashed, you cutted, you chopped a head or some other body member off. The weapon combined the weight and power of an axe with the versatility of a sword.

The reason I knew this? I had died at the mercy of such a particular sword, it obviously did not possess or give mercy. Wrong, the sword had almost send me to my afterlife, almost, but I still had a pulse when the swordsman thought me dead. How I had wanted to die, the dissapointement that I hadn't... Funny how it was by my own hand, by a small dagger instead of the magnificent sword that my life had ended, in a way.

A couple of decades of torture and vivid re-enactments of how I had lost my head because of that sword, only thing different me feeling and seeing how the bastard dismemebered me afterward, had given me a particular revulsion of the sword.

"Move and lose the head, demon."

It wasn't so much the cold voice that made me believe the boy, it were those two cold eyes that stared down at me, completely devoid of any emotion. The boy would have made a great demon, if not for the whole bloodsucking part. If there was one thing I had learned from my time in Hell, it was to recognise a real threath when I heard one.

The sins didn't seem to have so much trouble with the remaining vampires, just mine luck to get the thoughtest, meanest SOB. As usually Acedius tried to make a run for it, not that he had any succes evading the little redheaded vampire, ugh what a wuss. Satan would kill him this time, what use do you have to a cowardly Deadly Sin? Yeah, the dude was Sloth, but still; being lazy was quite different from being a coward, a pansy.

Irus was viciously trying to get a chunk from this tall dark headed guy who actually laughed at Wrath's attempts, wich only pissed the Sin of even more.

The bloodsucking prince had actually yanked Luci away from her dad and advanced towards Satan with a drawn sword.

Stupid boy.

Stupid for thinking he could take on Satan, and twice as stupid for giving Luci his back, the girl could get pretty protective if she wanted to be.

One moment the sucker was trying to cut out the bosses heart - the irony - and the next thing I knew he was lying face down at Satan's feed, a silver ball lying near his head. Amazed I looked at Luci who smiled like a kid caught doing something by someone who she knew couldn't punish her, or wouldn't in Satan's case. The small sling in her hand dissapeared while a brand new blue tattoo in the shape of the sling she had hold only seconds before formed from her left shoulder, it followed a pad towards her chest where it dissapeared in her shirt.

I had never seen the tattoo in action, never had I understood Luci's aversion to talk about it, to show it to me, untill now; the pain that, however briefly, crossed her face made me remember my own torture in Hell after I had taken my own life. She looked like a person that had been skinned and burned alive at the same time.

Slowly the blue tattoo vanished, leaving thin angry looking red lines etched in her skin, over a dark green tattoo.

Green?

Luci had once told me angeltattoos were all blue, at least hers were. The only tatto I knew she had taken voluntarily was black, to keep it simple she had told me, and more importand on her back.