…if we do meet again, {Private|Grellshitei}
grellshitei:
On the rooftops above the London streets, a bright crimson visage stood starkly against the light of the moon, hair whipping about and soft curves caressed by the darkness of night.
Grell Sutcliff.
A couple was on her list tonight, fated to spend their final moment together before being ripped apart by a carriage accident; it was almost romantic in a way—at least it was to her. She stood on the rooftop, scythe poised at her side as she gazed at the oblivious lovers below her. Their deaths would be gorgeous and bloody, the final moment sent in each other’s company, a perfect end in her mind.
“What the hell?” Her eyes went wide when right before her the carriage careened out of their way, sparing the happily ignorant couple. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Scythe still clutched in her hand she summoned her list, checking it over to be certain what she’d just witnessed was correct.
Yes, their names were erased.
“This can’t be right!” With a feral sounding growl she jumped from her rooftop perch, landing with a gentle thud beside the streetlight. She stood there, scratching at her head and trying to understand what might’ve happened to change the status of her collections for the night.
Ｔhere had been every intent in leaving, once she was given a glimpse of the dispatched reaper. It was a quick, harmless fun on her part– and she had no desire to draw attention to herself this evening. Then she saw that familiar shade of red; those flowing locks like a smear of blood against the dark sky.
Ｔhe demon stiffened, frame becoming tense in the shadows of her hiding place. It was only inevitable that their paths should cross again– it was a long eternity. Yet she was unprepared for it all the same. The rush of anger and bitter resentment that bubbled to surface left crimson nails grinding into the stone of her perch. The demon found her eyes dilating, the slit of her pupil shrinking into a sea of vibrant red. How the mere sight of reaper triggered such a vicious reaction. Even her teeth snapped into the air, fangs glinting as cherry painted lips stretched over them– No. The woman pulled back, forcing herself to relax. All in good time.
Ｔhe scent of rosewater and jasmine would precede the resonating echo of heels against weathered stone. A frame of scarlet and vermilion wrapped in the metaphor of a rose. Both deadly and beautiful as it approached, with a presence that dripped of grace and was garnished with a succulent smile along those cherry lips.
Ｓhe advanced like a panther stalking towards their prey with all the feral elegance of the animal in question. A scarlet attire similar to and yet all the more risqué then her mortal garb flowing along her frame. The thin veil of her human façade did nothing to hide the re-fleshed nature of a monster lurking just under those ruby eyes. They gleamed with a kindled flame of emotion and power, a spark that could easily boil over the surface.
“Ｓomething wrong, darling?” Anne’s voice dripped out like smooth silk, it’s tone barely concealing the emotions that burned in her eyes.
(Source: demon-madam)
