Bitter (In Progress)

Seven Devils

I feel it slowly drifting over me. The silky sheet of drowsiness finally closing my red eyes. It's warm and relieving once my worries disperse. A strong hand wraps around my pale neck, gentle at the palm, ended with bitter claws. A snap surrounds me, my life wasted.

Yet not, the figure around me pulls back, dragging me with the grasp of seven devils. They line in front of me, eyes glaring down at my torn body. Honey, chestnut, ocean, ice, spruce, fire, and a pair darker than the night sky, unknown and curious.

My breath trapped itself, deep within my lungs. Unconsciousness beading in front of my eyes. I watch as each pair of gleaming eyes become decorated with a deadly girn. Unforgiving and sharper than knifes. The mind throbs out questions, why, why, why.

The first comes, a simple answer. Punishment. A cruel voice that feels like it's skinning me alive. My cries become hysterical and I become silenced by the second answer. Redemption. Guilt overwashes me, my heart heavy. I become lifeless at the third, a way of torture and misdemeanor.

Death. The smiles vanished, yet the bloodshot eyes remain. A fate planned for the devil himself. Grasping hands crawl up, from the soles of my feet til my head is covered. My heart attempts to scream, yet not a single muscle moved. Damned might she be, young and foolish, the body shall rest along with the wasted.