Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Mid-Week Words

The Sigil of Azazel, Ch. 9-
Eve sat there now getting tattoos on her hands that she was still worried about covering up for a job interview in the near future with the succinct and absolute knowledge that everything she knew about life and the world around her was nothing even close to the truth.
There was not one world, but many, one often pressing in on the other if a person or angel or demon was smart enough to see it, to seek it out and press through with the right word, the right sigil, the right sacrifice.
The only thing her father had taught her which remained to still be true was the way in which the demons had survived the complete and total death of the world they had once called home - the reaping of twisted and monstrous souls. If over time they had corrupted humanity to speed along that process, Eve did not truly care. Mankind was a flawed and foolish race at best anyhow, and she did not believe that they needed much help in this matter, in their plummeting ascent into the desolate bowels of the underground world which her teacher called home.
She tried to imagine as Phenex worked on how mankind had been searching for a cure for cancer, a solution to the energy crisis, a way to stop world hunger. She imagined this going on for thousands and thousands of years, in a world without aging and endless power, and yet to no avail. Eve thought for a moment that she understood why Azazel had kept it from her, the motivation behind his brethren's bloodshed.
It did not make her any less angry.

1 comment:

  1. Eeeee! A+ very good, as always m'dear. I hope the writing has been going well. I can't wait to read more!


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