The Midnight Sun

Emery more than willingly accepted the graze of her hand on his face. Her intention seemed investigative as to how he was still standing but the feel filled him with more interest. Though her motives were unclear and he couldn't fathom a guess as to what alcohol she was carrying on her, the fact that she mentioned it helped her relax gave him the impression that this eccentrically dressed woman was a force to be reckoned with. His face could not contain his excitement at this discovery. 

Her words earned her a sharper smile, and his violet eyes could pierce the moon in the moment. He didn't meet many who immediately took an understanding of his will and his strength. Even if that attribute applied to his level of holding alcohol together. His last trip to the Sun was not a good example of that. He lightly and politely gripped her wrist to move it away from his face when he'd had his fill of the feeling. He turned away to the bar holding his smile his eyes motioning down the server again.

"Anotha' bottle if ya wouldn't mind. And fill 'er glass as well, won't ya? She certainly deserves it." His last sentence sent his gaze back to her silver eyes. His eyes were a deep purple but they had some oddities about them. If one was to look close enough they could easily see specs as dark as the night itself floating through the vibrant violet. When their drinks arrived, he swiveled back to face.

"What d'you think? You couldn't have possibly assumed I was just like th'rest of the sad sacks wastin' away in ere'. The fortitude of a lion runs n' my veins. Ain't no one in here that could out drink me." He leaned in closer to her examining her yet again.

"Yet, you didn't even flinch at the stuff. What roads have led you to such an emptiness y'feel at home while drinkin' it?" 

Emery's gaze turned from one of stunned awe due to her beauty and resilience to one of confusion from her words. His drunken state made it take a bit longer than normal to process what exactly had just been said to him. After devising all things closely her mention of existence for centuries flew right over his head after his mind decided which aspect of the conversation was important enough to retain. As she grew interested in his company further, his patience dissipated. He set his bottle down and his expression then turned to one of questioning fury.

"Did you just tell me that y'tried to fuckin' kill me?" While Emery didn't stand for much morally, he certainly stood for the continuation of his life and he felt a tremendous injustice had been done unto him. He could not put together his brash attitude being the reason for this as his ego did not allow it. His lips pursed as he glanced at the wine he had just purchased in hopes of nothing more than this woman spending an evening with him. Those hopes were long dashed at this point as he had the realization of what was actually going on. She toyed with him, and attacked him. This was unacceptable. 

"Y'know." A smile of humorous displeasure struck across his face as he pierced his stare back at her. "You sure are fuckin' cheeky for a bar wench, and it amuses me greatly that y'failed at your task." The facade was broken. He clearly showed no signs of respect for her and was fixated on what had been done wrong to him. He stood up and took a gander at her money bag on her hip. 

"I'm runnin' a bit dry on the pocket situation, if ya catch m'drift. So I thank ya for payin' me back for your drink, with interest." With those words spat with spite, his hand moved as swift as sound itself to snag her pouch and he tossed it in his hand one time before blowing a kiss her way and making a brisk walk to the door. He stepped into the alleyway outside and slammed the door behind him. 

Emery whistled his way down the dark, desolate alleyway with a hefty pouch of coins bouncing in his hands. Though his night didn't end with the intended outcome he was never one to complain about earning enough money to feed and booze himself back to contentment. He had this weird inkling of disappointment picking at the back of his head, and it wasn't of the carnal nature. She was intriguing and on a degree that confused him quite a bit. He would not soon forget this Bella.



And as it seemed, he would not soon be rid of her either. It wasn't long until he swore he heard chanting from behind him. Not chanting, an invocation. He saw the few people lingering in this dark corridor flee in terror from the direction in which the words were coming. He stopped in his tracks to turn back to see none other than Belladonna conjuring magic and following him. He sure had a knack for pissing off the wrong crowd. He let out a sigh and put the pouch on his hip.



"It's like that then, is it?" He spat at her as she closed in. He turned back around whizzed to the top of the various shop signs slung across this bazaar. He hopped to each closer one, displaying himself as nothing but a blur with each movement made. He had to beat her in speed, magic was not something he was prepared to counter.

A witch. Seriously, Emery had only the worst luck in the individuals he chose to mug. Though it would never occur to him that maybe there was a karmic reason behind this. All he'd ever known was a life filled with heartbreak and survival so tonight was a solid reflection of the passed nineteen years. Six of those being completely on his own.



Then came the comment of his blood. As she flew towards him Emery found himself mid leap between building levels and time froze in his eyes. Blood of a chicken. Drinking with a coward. Emery had found it relatively easy to move on in his life without thinking about his father, but. Blood. Coward. He saw the man who had put him through hell floating there with him. It was of course nothing more than the mirage of his mind placing him there but those words echoed into his skull. Blood. Coward. Blood. Coward. Blood. Coward. The drunken stare of his father pierced through his head as he remembered all the nightmares of his childhood. The blame he received for the passing of his mother. How much his father ran.



Maybe it was the liquor and this odd intrigue he had for the woman pursuing him, but tonight was gonna be different. She was right, though she couldn't possibly know what those words meant to him. He saw the reflection of his repugnant parent in the puddles below him. Gritting his teeth he turned to face her while still in the air. He tossed the sack of coins back to her and pulled out his scimitar in one motion.



"You're right, plus I owe you one for the shit you pulled earlier!" He awaited her to close in on him before he made a move. He didn't even want to hurt her. He just knew if he never faced this head on he may never have the strength to in the future.

"Tis' a fool's errand to underestimate yer opponent, you'd think a century or two woulda' taught you that!" He snapped back, but talk was through. She was casting, and he couldn't stand still. He vanished again finding his feet against the walls nearby and ran at her. From the wall he'd bound directly towards her in a flash. In the moments before he struck her with his sword his hand would show in milliseconds the dropping of several smoke bombs, surrounding the entire alleyway with dense grey clouds. With that, his attack never came. Due to his ridiculous speed it was easy for him to transport himself from places that would not be caught with the naked eye. 

He would reappear on an upper level sign, behind Belladonna, and swinging his grapple hook. He aimed for her ankles to suspend her and make her an easy target for his sword. 

Emery caught himself smiling again as his trap had worked and he had her in his grasps. It was almost too easy. He strung Bella up to eye level and turned to aim his scimitar right at her heart. As she struggled it reminded him of how he hunted in his past. He learned all these techniques in the woods and to see them in action here was a bit of a relief. To know he hadn't completely wasted his childhood. But for the first time in a long time during a fight he felt hesitation.

Emery had never been able to bring himself to take the life of anything other than a wild animal. And the consistent intrigue she somehow embedded in his brain confused him tremendously. Her innate abilities had some sort of draw to a small part of his mind, and he could not piece it together. When his sword was primed and his moment given, he sat there frozen. His eyes met hers again and he was overwhelmed by her beauty once more. Though she had made an avid attempt on his life he had never been one to bring harm to any woman he was even once fond of. Usually the opposite. His behavior earlier was not unheard of, but that was the extent of his ugliness against parties he was attracted to. That coupled with  this unexplained pull to her...

He was a sitting duck. Frozen by a clash of his convictions. 

Emery's confusion only continued to grow in this abnormal situation. He wasn't so dense to believe she was serious, but he had completely caught her off guard with his trap. Was she hoping for a way out? He didn't think she'd yet deduced the reason for his apprehension. Her assets and her words did do well to distract his thoughts while he was already muddled. 

"Perhaps inna different scenario your words would catch me of-" And to his dismay, he felt a sharp pain through his sternum. As he looked down, he saw the point of the witches staff pierced through him. He heard ringing, then nothing. His eyes widened from even further confusion when he finally pieced together that he had again been deceived by this woman.

Twice now he found himself near death in the same alleyway. He collapsed from the sign, releasing Belladonna and hitting the ground with a large thud. His vision fading and his body twitching. 

Eventually, his body ceased movement. His consciousness gone. Silence rang throughout the street corridor. It wouldn't be until Belladonna tried to take her leave from the area that she would hear a voice. A voice that would feel an unusual closeness to her ear drums. As if it was whispering right to her.

"Belladonna, The Poison Witch. What a fool this boy was to think he could have stood against your might."

A fallen Emery's arm would twist in ways no human could possibly muster. Contorting as it pushed him from off the ground to turn his face to Belladonna. His eyes jet black and a smile with newly found fangs brimming on his face. 

"Such a horrid thing you've done to my precious vessel. He seemed quite fond of you, too. Be it neanderthalic, carnal intrigue, it takes a lot for his feeble mind to take such grasp of another. Tell me, beauty of toxin, what do you know of the infernal?" 

The heavy voice that drifted so eloquently mangled another one of the dying boys arms, and picked itself off of the ground and on to his stumbling feet. It reached for the the bleeding hole in Emery's chest and jammed two fingers in it and twisted. Somehow, in a feat beyond comprehension the bleeding stopped completely. The hole however was not healing. His shadowed eyes remained locked on Belladonna's as his smile widened.

"You truly are a haunting creature. One without remorse or care for beings that walk with her. Retaining grace and the allure of a succubus. One to turn necks before you snap them wherever you travel. Your name is familiar to me, and I know the countless lives harvested in your wake. Consider this a conversation of admiration." 

He gently cackled at her question. "This was not of my own volition. I have been with this oaf since just after his conception. His mother could not bear me right, and perished at my happening. His father too much of a coward to face me. He himself completely blind to my presence. With each of his misdeeds that lead him to conditions such as this, I see light again. Eventually he will be only I, Ziahael The Unforgivable. It was serendipity that I acquired a vessel so eager to reach its own devastation. Such isolation and sadness. Lust and self loathing. He feeds me with every word. Which is why I cannot let you break him." Emery's hands grew claws from his cuticles leaving them bloodied to the base. 

"I ask that you leave us to rest now, for your own good." 

Ziahael kept his smile wide and menacing as Emery's neck followed pathways that would leave any normal person paralyzed. His obsidian eyes stabbing through Belladonna and into her very soul. He snapped both arms and legs to the ground in an average position and crawled with frightening speed up to her. He maneuvered around her to inspect her physicality and aura. He seemed quite pleased with the woman presented in front of him, and her words struck a cord with him. Talons not retracted he backed off just a little and stood up to face her, that same daunting grin plastered on his face almost permanently. 

"You speak to me as if you can do my job better than I. Your confidence is truly enchanting, witch. But with what basis can you promise such fortunes? From what you've discovered of the youngin, you know him to be stubborn and calloused. Acting on his own accord without regard for the likes of anyone. You plan to change his personality entirely?" 

The fiend before her cocked his head as he spoke, and then made his way back towards her with his claws tapping his leg. Emery's wound was healing dramatically faster than it should be, as a result of Ziahael's black magic.