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[MS] Damage lyrics
Jul. 5th, 2008 04:21 pmWoke up with a war in my head
He could feel it before the shot finished ripping through the skin of his meet, striking him dead in the chest, right where the beating heart would have been. It was this tension, this pressure—anger, self-preservation, whatever it was—that wouldn’t be released until something was done to alleviate the situation. The smell of gunpowder, sweat and fear all came off the man in waves, and while he was unsure of what the peculiar way he was dressed meant, it certainly wasn’t going to stop him from righting the situation in his own favor. The next few moments passed in a blur, and a few minutes later, his body was dropping to the ground and the scent of the man’s blood was everywhere.
The copper taste of blood hung on his tongue as he drew his arm back against his face. Dark pools of flooded flooded onto the deep blue of the uniform he was wearing, with the material too dark to distinguish the true color, but Alloces could see it on the spatter of red against his arm, shown in bright contrast to his skin. As he moved, his body shuddering with his last dying gasps, the wet material rippled like black velvet, and when he was finally dead, and his arms and legs going lax, it was then that he noticed the golden object on his chest, now spattered with blood from their encounter and dripping down into the ground below him.
He was unaware of what the symbol meant, all he knew was that the man had shot him. That either indicated he was a idiotic human who didn’t know what he was doing, or he was an idiot hunter who didn’t know what he was doing. Once it was over, the tension running through him passed, his body straightening and relaxing, resuming his usual calm, even-tempered state. Not that that was guaranteed to last long. He was a demon with needs after all, and the needs preferred to be sated, rather than ignored.
He heard the click of heels on the pavement behind him, and before he could turn, he heard a familiar voice, full of more shock than should have been warranted, given who she was talking to.
“Don’t you have any self-control?”
He turned to face the brunette behind him, hands on her hips and dark hair tossed over her shoulder. It was clear from the face she was making that she was not pleased with his behavior, and while he could have been rather annoyed at her showing that kind of disrespect to someone who outranked her, he didn’t. Just shrugged and pulled the thin material of the shirt away from his chest.
“He shot me.”
454 words
He could feel it before the shot finished ripping through the skin of his meet, striking him dead in the chest, right where the beating heart would have been. It was this tension, this pressure—anger, self-preservation, whatever it was—that wouldn’t be released until something was done to alleviate the situation. The smell of gunpowder, sweat and fear all came off the man in waves, and while he was unsure of what the peculiar way he was dressed meant, it certainly wasn’t going to stop him from righting the situation in his own favor. The next few moments passed in a blur, and a few minutes later, his body was dropping to the ground and the scent of the man’s blood was everywhere.
The copper taste of blood hung on his tongue as he drew his arm back against his face. Dark pools of flooded flooded onto the deep blue of the uniform he was wearing, with the material too dark to distinguish the true color, but Alloces could see it on the spatter of red against his arm, shown in bright contrast to his skin. As he moved, his body shuddering with his last dying gasps, the wet material rippled like black velvet, and when he was finally dead, and his arms and legs going lax, it was then that he noticed the golden object on his chest, now spattered with blood from their encounter and dripping down into the ground below him.
He was unaware of what the symbol meant, all he knew was that the man had shot him. That either indicated he was a idiotic human who didn’t know what he was doing, or he was an idiot hunter who didn’t know what he was doing. Once it was over, the tension running through him passed, his body straightening and relaxing, resuming his usual calm, even-tempered state. Not that that was guaranteed to last long. He was a demon with needs after all, and the needs preferred to be sated, rather than ignored.
He heard the click of heels on the pavement behind him, and before he could turn, he heard a familiar voice, full of more shock than should have been warranted, given who she was talking to.
“Don’t you have any self-control?”
He turned to face the brunette behind him, hands on her hips and dark hair tossed over her shoulder. It was clear from the face she was making that she was not pleased with his behavior, and while he could have been rather annoyed at her showing that kind of disrespect to someone who outranked her, he didn’t. Just shrugged and pulled the thin material of the shirt away from his chest.
“He shot me.”
454 words
