Intense Hate

Desdemonda walked out of the throne room scowling and cursing, she knew that Prince Lucifer was not joking, and that her punishment would be worse than what they did to the black caskets, turning them into demons, tortured and twisted souls, maimed emotionally and physically so that they no longer resembled the human form that Shepherd loved so much. She turned down the second hall and stalked down the stairs, her rage rebuilding towards Eve. She remembered the day her casket opened, how the elements reacted to Shepherd’s outpouring of love. She remembered the hideous shower of shooting stars, the way the normally bearable sky became a sickeningly bright cerulean blue, and how the sun seemed to get brighter every hour. She hadn’t been able to bear it, she had stalked to her cave and tried to absorb as much of the darkness as she could; soaking in the emptiness that surrounded her. Two days after Eve had awoken; Lucifer had summoned her to his throne room.

“Desdemonda, you are finally going to get the chance to prove yourself to me, I want you to hunt down and kill Eve. As brutally as you want, as long as you get the deed done, I don’t care how,”

That was already a year ago, and Desdemonda had endured every punishment possible for the first year of her failing.  But not this time, this time she would capture Eve and make her pay.  Eve had been more than a constant thorn in her side, causing her more trouble than she had ever thought possible. Desdemonda quickly decided to change course, and started to head over to the training ring, taking out her anger on a few black caskets would do her some good. She could relieve her basic stress, and get her crew fired up to hunt down the warring angels, and that treacherous Eve.

Winter's Night

Wind howls across the fields, crashing into the trees, causing them to swing and to sway. The frozen pond is the perfect meeting place of ice and snow. The wind carries the snow into cold funnels that swirl around the pond and come back to rest. One lone red fox stalks across the field, in search of the smallest morsel of food. After the wind and cold drives the fox back into its hole, the fields become empty once more. Dusk begins to settle in, and the only colour in the sky is a pale orange, the reflection of a pale and dreary winter’s day. After the sun finally sets, the wind dies down, as if dying with the sun. A cold night is ahead, and the proof is the rigidity of the branches in the trees, that have an icy coating. The brilliancy of the night is the stars that are so clear, shining like little beacons in the night. From the depth of the forest comes a young doe, strikingly beautiful and perfect. She gracefully walks across the field and crosses into the next. As she continues to walk a stag emerges from the forest. Strong and handsome, he walks with purpose towards the doe. A young courtship arises on this rigid night, and new life will be found with the changing of the seasons. The pair walks into the forest, and once more, the field becomes barren. The wind begins to pick up once more, and branches begin to snap.