When Death Falls

Torment

†Torment†

†Samael P.O.V†

I hit my busy season with a bang. With Christmas around the corner, there seemed to be more and more recruits. Which was good. I was jonesing for a sweet little bit of Mira. I hadn't gone near her for a week. The reapers I had on her tail, gave me updates. There were do signs of angels around her, which was good. She was also home and beginning to get back to her normal life. Which would only make it that much sweeter for me. Let her think I wasn't coming back. That it was all in her head. Then, Bam! Poor thing. Didn't realize her life would never be normal again.

After polishing off the newest reaper, I sent him to train. They were so adorable at that stage. All depressed and weepy. It was what my day so much better. I took a few more souls and finished my list. The way I see it, Santa could take a few notes from me. It saves a shïtload of time just to do your list. Fück that checking it twice bull. Unlike that fat douche, I had a life. Well, maybe not a life, but sure as hell know how to have a good time. At least my version of it.

My work done for the moment, I watched her. Yes, I stuck close. Can't have my toy breaking a nail. Would ruin the scratches she'll put down my back. Wouldn't you know my little plaything had the most perfect timing? She was in her room, the music playing. Good song. BVB if I wasn't mistaken. She was standing in front of the mirror, whispering the lyrics to herself. She looked a hot mess though. A loose tank and were those boxers? Her hair piled high in a messy bun, a few strands hanging around her face.

As if she was reading my mind, she hitched her thumbs in the waistband of those shorts and pushed them down. Had my heart damn near stumbling she did. Shame she had underwear on. Then, she crossed her arms in front of her, grabbing at the hem of that tank. She stayed like that, frozen. I could feel the hesitation, the fear. It was making me all gooey. She put a determined look on her face, took a deep breath, and pulled the tank off. Her breasts jiggled a bit as they settled from the sudden movement. I will admit that I lost track of time staring at those things. They were not the biggest I had seen, but they were magnificent. Artists would line up to draw them. I know that perv Botticelli would have had her naked against some silk, then he would have had her against that silk.

I barely noticed the bandage wrapped around that waist of hers. The white of it nearly lost against the white of her skin. Against my will, I made my eyes travel up to that face of hers. She had that bottom lip of hers between her teeth, her eye brows scrunched in uncertainty, her eyes looked a little sad.

"Scars are cool. Scars are cool." She kept repeating, picking at the tape. Yeah I guess scars are cool. Why was she being so hung up on it? Women. She finally had enough of the tape picked that the bandage came off. She had her eyes closed as she finished ripping the bandage from her.

She gave a whimper when she saw the course black line. The knots of the black stitches popping out like she had hairy spiders stuck inside her. With their legs sticking out. Was it sexy? Hell yes! The wound was only a few inches long! The rest of her was smooth creamy awesome. Well, except for the killer tat on her back. Long angel wings on either side of her spine, covering the whole of he back. The end feathers tickling the hem of panties. Shït, that must have taken forever to get done!

With a last look she headed into her bathroom. The sounds clueing me into the fact that she was taking a shower. This should be fun. I went in, as invisible as the air, as she stepped in. The angle finally letting me see the rest of the tattoo, the feathers ended just at the curve of her bottom, but these feathers were dipped in black. So can you blame that I followed the trail and saw the rest of that firm full moon? If you do, well, I couldn't give a shīt what you think. If I choose to look at her, I will. I watched the hazy figure of her clean up. Her arms almost dancerlike as she washed her hair. Her movements slow as she cleaned up and shaved. Best thing women ever started to do.

After she was done she just stood under the hot spray for awhile. Long enough that I was getting annoyed. Well, was she ever getting out? Time to speed this shīt up. I focused on the water, forcing to water to cool. She gave an eep sound and quickly turned it off, grabbing at the towels hanging close to the shower on these knobby looking things. Then she came out, pink from the heat and the drying. Not her best look, but it wasn't bad.

I made my way into her room before she did. So that when she came in, she saw me. Lying on her bed, arms behind my head.

"Nice show, pet." I grinned at the fear frozen on her face. Let the torment officially begin.