Entrance/Thy Crypt of Tales/Silver Fables/Thy/Aways

Fools Take Thirds




She looked up with gray eyes toward the green screen. "Never" it spoke immersed in red. Her eyes turned back to what she had glanced at. Her silver blond hair poisoned the green colored smoke. With the glow of a cat eye, her face lit up. She threw her arm down. With one magic touch, a spark of light echoed in the smoke. The man laid there upon the ashes. Both of them seemed to be a still-life inside a burning inferno. His eye lids shot open. He stared straight up. Inside his black eyes, seemed to sit a silver outlining of the pupil. Then a highlighted green color shined from the most center part. She then slowly, majestically placed her other hand upon his muscular chest. Her hand quickly weaved its way into the black, dusted fabric surrounding his skin. And soon, the hand left the fabric to merge with the chest. Once inside. She began to drill her way into his heart. She again dared to look into the green screen.

"Never" it continued speaking. Her head slowly turned back to his body. Lifeless and burnt to a red-blackness that is left. He began to feel her. Her gentle touch inside his chest. Her gentle touch inside of his veins. His eyes now beginning to filter out the black and stay as the silver and green it acquired. She tilted her head away from his body. She used one sense. The sense of feeling. Circular and mushy, with a side taste of muscle. Her hands moved through his heart as a snake crawling upon skeletal remains. They began to merge. Flesh with flesh, an impulse shot out from her body. Down, the silver trail it dug. A ring of fire now also merged with his heart. A sound, a beat. His heart began to pump. Pump the ooze out from inside his soul. She then stepped over. Matched her angelic body with his. First she placed touched her left foot with his right foot. Then the same melding began to take a hold. Her body slowly rippled down upon his. And within seconds all she had left held her majestic head attached to the hand she had. Then out of the darkness, sparked a light of blinding proportions. With one last glance to the screen she was no more.

Slowly her body finished the merging. He first grabbed his blackened leg. Then realizing he had grabbed his leg, he eyed his fleshy arm. Stained with vein streaks. He wondered, then he too looked at the green screen. "Reven" it spoke in green lights. The redness of the screen painted rushing rain, as it fell. He bent forward. His face so melted that it was hard to tell what he was. His form not seeming to be that of a human. He looked about, seeing rain over the ashes that surrounded him. It may have been over, but everything that is over is always the beginning. And so the path of time and life is a shrouded mystery. Only one can assume they meet somewhere along the line. And somewhere again, for the line is not straight. Yet, fools are known to take thirds. The path seemed to grant them a gift of eternity and yet a burden of hell.

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