The Creator and his Work


Angel of Death
She came to me late at night in a thousand different way. Every way was exactly how I wanted her to be. Some nights she was my angel with heavenly golden wings of pure white and other times she was my tormenter, the demon that existed solely with in. She alone was my Goddess, a reflection or a mere glimpse of everything to me.

I sat there with racing thoughts etching out the details of her fine fingers and lightly covered imagine. She had that pure smile on her face, a smile only I could create… A smile just for me. Tonight she was my lover . And how I did adore her with every drop of ink that spilled across the page. She was perfect and she was mine.

I can’t remember to much more of what I was thinking that night. The night I created her like I had done so many times before, but this night was the last time I seen her so clearly, so purely. This was the last time I truly made love to one of my creations, truly felt it unimaginable, untouchable… except to me.

Yes I knew how she would feel in my hands, I knew the soft smooth curves of her body! I drew them after all. I knew the way her hair would smell, her kisses would taste. I knew how her voice would sound and how her tears would feel. I knew the very life that would echo with in her body because it was my own life.

I fell asleep that night again, next to my artwork. My fingers covered in paint and ink. So many colors that they had turned black with numbness. I felt drained, like I had not slept in 10 days, as I opened my eyes to the soft glow of the late morning air and light. The piece that lay before me was like a shadow of something greater. I stretched my arms and body out of the aching chains of vision that had bound me the night before, as I rub all remembrance of what sleep I did get from my eyes.

I knew I had seen it. I had painted it. I remember painting her last night, my lover where was she? I searched frankly across my studio, until my eyes found it. It was as if all light had gathered to one side of the room and their existed no shadows there. That’s when I seen her, with that smile, that smile only for me. So perfectly. I only had a few minutes to reflect on her as I scooped her up along with a small handful of other art.

I was already 15 minutes late. 15 minutes more wasn’t going to matter. I Slowly gathered up my things as I washed the paint the best I could from my stained fingers. I tried with the mighty hair gel to tame my wild brown shaggy hair. A bit to long for the average business man, then again I was an artist not a robot to the cruel world of society or so I had come to believe.

I sat there in the dull meeting of lifeless faces. Who picked and prodded and ripped to part the very shards of my art work. I however sat there so idly mocking them. They, who so hopelessly judge, yet could never create even an ounce of beauty of their own.

They stared wildly with hungry dollars signs reflecting in their eye. They seen no beauty. Just a quick sell and I could feel that from them. It enraged my soul, my fingers, feeding the already distaste I had for them. All in gray and white. Hair so nicely cut, perfectly in place. The ladies so sharp, so straight, so under defined. Robots, with such shrilly, little robots voices. “This looks like so and so.’… Blah. Damn them all to the 7th level of Hell.

Suddenly from behind me I heard the door open as the meeting was finally drifting to end. I paid no attention at first as I gathered my things. Till I heard a voice so different, yet so recognizable. I spun around to see the life, the flesh of that voice. The voice that I called to so many nights before and then suddenly it was as everything in the room blurred and all light was stripped from it. This was my last thought that I could truly understand.

She stood before me. Hair so perfectly, skin that rich smooth color. Thos curves! I knew those curves every inch of them as I did those eyes… so stunningly beautiful. That crystal color and then she smiled. That smile only for me and she was smiling right at me, looking straight at me. There wasn't a doubt.

I never noticed anything else only the fact that she was about to leave, and quite frankly so was I. If I said anything at all to anyone when I left that room it has now long since been forgotten. I chased her wildly into the street. She was my vision, my dream and my goddess. I knew her like no one else could know her.

I remember thinking, she going to turn right and she did. Then left… then she stopped and I bumped head long into her. I spoke my words of apologizes to her and she answered with that voice. Now even to this day it still echo with in the shallow realm of my mind often times washing up faded imagines of her.

I stood there talking to her for a few minutes, minutes that turned into an hour or so. I didn’t have to ask her name. I all ready knew it. I remember standing there almost in pure amazement, feeling light headed at times, but to afraid to faint and have this become an illusion. She lightly extended her hand out and it was warm and ever so inviting. The way I knew it would be.

Her fine fingers stretched across my stained hand as the sharp point of the pen burned upon my palm her number and the name of my Goddess. I smiled a bit, I don’t do that often, as I felt her breath blow across my skin sealing the flames of the ink.

I remember seeing nothing more then her walking away. She turned and smiled that smile. The smile only for me and then I heard it. Loud, like the scream from a demon robbing an angel of her voice. Only this demon came from a car in the forum of a tiny, silver bullet piercing her from behind. I dropped everything in my hands and ran to her side as those around me fell upon the ground.

I cradled her in my arms holding her as close to my heart as I could. Her hair still smelled of the summer air even in this darken moment. I remember feeling her soft body of warmth tremble with in my arms as I watched her brilliant crystal clear eyes slowly drain of life and forum into silver earth shattering tears. I touched them so softly and they felt every bit as cold as I knew they would. I watched as her lips parted and she spoke so softly in the air of one last kiss. So upon her lips I did place mine and drank fully the last bit of her life. Her kiss, that sweet strawberry taste, now almost like a ghost ever so haunting mine.

I stayed there till they told me I had to leave, till they made me leave, till I could no longer feel her fait heartbeat. She was my angel, she was my goddess… I knew of her life for I was her life. She was allusive to everyone but me. Now my fingers that once created her, lay stained of her blood, numb by her precious , forbidden tears. Never meant to be touched by anyone, not even me. For that she now lays far from the sun, the rain, the starry night sky and me, her only creator.


Bringer of Bees
im sorry if this makes you mad, what is this the matrix the title made me think that sorry kit


Banned - What an Asshat!
Gah, so much to read, it was close to the 10 days bit when i scrolled down to see how much more there was and said "God damnit stop talking", sorry lol


Angel of Death
_BlackWulf_ said:
Gah, so much to read, it was close to the 10 days bit when i scrolled down to see how much more there was and said "God damnit stop talking", sorry lol

lol its called a short story and is 1 page long

better than you

It's true
I like it.

You have a way with words, you paint a pretty intricate picture and set a solid mood. I could feel how dark it was directly from the beginning, long before the twist. It's something special to be able to press the emotional/artistic air of a piece onto the reader from the start.

My only criticism would be that, while you're very descriptive, sometimes it feels a little forced. Nothing terrible, but at points I feel like the words are just a touch... too preplanned? Nothing tangible, but I felt that the flow which was smooth most of the way throughout got choppy at points.

Still, overall, very very good.

:thumbsup: :thumbsup:


Banned - What an Asshat!
You know, I read this and just got around to replying (I know, bad girl)

I love the surreallism you portray, in this and many other writings.