3 || Wish Granter
Mist settles over her, coating her skin and the bodies sprawled in the room around her. The dark fog acts like a curtain, a film for her eyes only as she appreciates the horror layed at her feet.
Red liquid paints the room, and she smirks as she recalls the screams and sobbing, the pleas for forgivness and mercy. But the devil doesnt care for mercy.
She tilts her head back and closes her eyes with an inhale of breath, tasting their pain in the air. How sweet it tastes, but their blood tastes even sweeter.
She moves around the room silently, walking over bodies until she reachers the one tied to the bed, the one currently crying, the tears mixing with the blood leaking down her face. What a masterpiece, a beautiful work of art. Pale with bursts of ruby to give colour to a plain centerpiece.
"My darling, why are you crying?" She murmurs sweetly, fingers running softly over the river of her captive's cheek. "It will be over soon, do not worry." She grips the girl's throat in her bloddy hand, releshing the fear and pain in the girl's large eyes.
She can feel the caltive's pulse speed up under her touch, warm blood pounding against her grip for release. She shall grant that wish.