How does it feel, my lady?

To hold the souls of men within your bosom?

How does it feel, my lady?

To cross the field of battle, culling life from the husks of lesser beings?

How does it feel, my lady?

To hold high your Azrael, glittering as the pale light of a human soul dances upon it for it's final, agonizing moments?

How does it feel, my lady?

To exult in the glory of victory? In the thrill of killing, and freshly spilled lifeblood?

How does it feel, my lady?

Every time you see them?

The demon, Alhazad, hiding beneath his cape and mask. Piercing the night with his shrill laugh. Kkkhkk. Kkkhkkk. Advancing upon you, unwanted, like a vile plauge? Mind bending and twisting with unknown, forbidden machinations?

The man, Jack. Hiding behind his blade, behind the facade of the uncaring, wandering swordsman. Stirring within you feelings you wish to never remember...or perhaps never wished to forget. To a past ripped from you by the cold claws of fate, and thrust away to the darkest corners of your mind?

How does it feel, my lady?

To enthrall two such beings by your beauty and skill alone?

How does it feel, my lady?

To hold me in your sway, for so simple a reason as well?

How does it feel, my lady?

To be human again? To run free, as you once did, the guilt of past sins flying from you like birds upon the air?

Please my lady, tell me how it feels.

By Darkstone