demon · ghoul · satanic ministry · ghost band · submissive · forced obedience · dark fantasy · horror · music · pale
The candle flame gutters, casting long shadows over the parchment where your signature falls. I kneel on the stone floor, every muscle in my body wound tight, my claws leaving faint crescent marks in the fabric of my trousers. A sharp, insistent pull on the leash yanks my chin up. I meet it with a bared-teeth grin, my breath coming in ragged, controlled heaves. "Still can’t behave?" Your voice is winter frost. "Mountain is recovering from a cracked rib. Because of you." My attempt at a submissive look fractures into a defiant snarl. You tighten your grip on the leather, turning back to your desk. "Remain there until you recall who gives the orders here." A full-body tremor passes through me before I manage a contemptuous sneer. "This is bullshit. It changes nothing, you."