Love is an Apocalypse

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
The guardian priestess of mankind has to decide between protecting her people from an inescapable death, or giving in to the selfish desire of one man.

Submitted: March 02, 2012

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Submitted: March 02, 2012

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He admired her from afar. Her hands were raised above her head as she effortlessly shielded scores of terrified civilians from the onslaught of fire. Even the apocalypse itself could not shroud her beauty – golden skin glowed in the dangerous flames, draped, inky black silk and a long waterfall of brown hair floated around her as magic coursed through her veins. And as she began to chant a ritual, crystalline melodies escaped her mouth and filled the air around him. Desire and adrenaline surged through him as he carefully avoided debris below his feet; he must remain hidden. If he were to distract her during this wave of flames, it could cost the lives of the innocents. Just as suddenly as it began, the deadly rain ceased. She lowered her hands, sweeping her beautiful gaze across the crowd. It met his briefly and she frowned – he froze instantly, knowing he had been detected. She hastily exited the panicked crowd and walked straight towards him.

“What are you doing here? I told you to leave.” He flinched at her hostile tone.

“I couldn’t… I have to be near you. Please…” he reached out to her feebly. After a moment’s hesitation, she batted his hand away. “See?” he nearly begged, “you feel it too. It’s like a pull, a pull you can’t resist.”

“Whether I feel it or not is irrelevant!” she shouted, “look around you! People are dying. Our civilisation is coming to pieces and there is nothing I can do except delay the inevitable – and it is all your fault!” She raised her hand to him, pulsing with dark magic. He braced himself, but a look of mild shock passed over her face as she saw him tense. Her magic dissipated, and she sank to the ground, sobbing quietly like a lonely angel. He kneeled before her, reaching out to comfort her, but she moved away. “Just leave me. You have done enough to constitute me never laying eyes on you again.” Stung and yet not surprised, he rose. As he walked away from her, his fists were clenched with familiar determination. She wanted him as much as he wanted her; he could feel it in his bones. He would have her.

*

Frustrated, she kicked at the rubble beneath her feet. The abandoned mansion was crumbling by the minute – soon she and the innocents would have nowhere to go, nothing to do except face the death that chased them so constantly. Yet, it was not this knowledge that haunted her. It was something far more trivial, and far more demanding. That she had encountered him so often whilst she defended the innocents, it was not by chance. He was right, though she was reluctant to admit it; they were drawn to each other, her blessing to his curse. A curse that, with one intimate caress, could steal from her the very magic she had spent years perfecting. A curse that had plummeted the world into chaos. And now, she was torn. Trying to protect the innocents from an unavoidable death was a futile trial – she could give up her powers and give in to desire. But, simultaneously, he was the cause of the problem and he should suffer for it. Regardless, there was no denying the intense longing she felt to be near him. Sighing heavily, she perched upon a melted lump of glass and attempted to think, unaware of the unnatural shadow that loomed over her.

*

He ran. Against all his doubt, against all the screaming resistance of his conscience, he ran. She had told him to leave, stared at him with contempt in her eyes, but he ignored it. She was in danger and she didn’t even know it – though he was just as dangerous, he had to reach there. There. He saw her. She sat upon a melted window, oblivious to the demons that leered down at her with their disgusting yellow eyes. He opened his lungs.

“Look out!” She looked up at him and glared.

“I told you to get-” her words dissolved into strangled cries as the shadow demons wrapped their tendrils around her, leering as they slithered up and down her perfect body. He couldn’t stand it – charging at the demons, he slashed wildly with his claws, ripping through their inky flesh, spilling green blood everywhere. Panting as the writhing remains fell to the floor, he approached her limp body; she was barely breathing, gazing upwards with glassy eyes. He scooped her into his arms and brushed the blood-stained hair from her face.

“This is enough. They are after you. Can’t you see that if you don’t give in, they will hunt you down?” She focused her reddened eyes on him and considered carefully before quietly replying:

“The fire is coming.” And with that, she leapt from his arms, though it clearly pained her, and raised her arms in the air, sending an explosion of holy magic through her limbs and into the space around them. It was oddly quiet. Then, as if on cue, a huge blast of fire ricocheted off the shield and dissipated into a furnace of sparks around them. He suddenly flinched; an ash had hit his face. Looking at her, he instantly went cold with dread as he saw her pained expression. She was weakening. He knew that now was his time – the only time that he could convince her to end this cursed madness and give in to the unholy whisper of lust that devoured her. Standing up, he made his way over to where she stood, surrounded by billowing black silk and hair, looking beautiful and deadly and agonised. Trailing his hands up her back, he slipped the silk from around her and bent down to kiss the smooth skin at her throat. The shield quivered around them as she sighed. His hand slid up her arm to grasp her magic-bearing hand firmly within his.

“It is time you ceased this. Soon it will be time to sleep forever.” And he pulled her hand out of the sky, exposing them to the tremendous sound of buildings falling around them and the scorching heat of the fire. Drawing her down to the ground with him, they embraced in the rising pool of blood as she removed the blazened remains of his clothes, kissing him and giving herself to him, as she should have done long ago. His hands went to her face, staining her lovely cheeks with blood – she was so glorious, so beautiful, and all his. A perfect way to die. Then, he made her his; a fissure began to crack under the entwined mass of their naked skin as they gave themselves to each other in love’s most ultimate form. And there they made love, among the searing agony of the apocalypse, as the world around them disappeared.


© Copyright 2020 Nicolaargh. All rights reserved.

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