Page 1 of Wicked Flavors

Here's to 40. Look, bitch, you made it. And you wrote a fucked up little unhinged demon story to celebrate. Twenty something you would never, honey.

And...

To anyone who ever made themselves small and unassuming to make others happy.

Life's short; stay weird, wear pink, and be a monster.

K' love you, bye.

“Do me a favor? Don't scream. Just hear what I've gotta say... and then scream.”

— Billy Zane, Demon Knight

Before

Isolation

—can’t keep doing this, can’t keep doing this, can’t keep—

“Are you sure it’s the one?”

A voice echoed at the edges of his consciousness. It wasn’t familiar in the slightest, butwherethe voices echoed from certainly was. While he never bothered to learn their names, he remembered faces,voices. And the one who had torn him from his lethargy was entirelynew.

How … interesting…

It had been such a long time since he had company, though he doubted this newcomer was aware of how close they were to him. So rarely did the old ones mention him to anyone, and it was so difficult to tell time in this space.

“Yes,” a second voice huffed.

Indignant, hassled—

“Laura found the object not far from the victim’s home. It was pristine—like it had never been touched by the fire—”

Fire. He let the thought swirl in his mind before his mouth sharpened into a smile.

Lot. 179: A silver locket from the eighteen hundreds with a secret compartment containing a lock of pale blond hair—

“How does this keep happening?” The first voice—softer, higher—asked. “First the wing-backed chair, then the Art Deco lamp, and now—”

He could practically taste the fear on their breath. Sticky sap that overpowered his palette with its rich, nauseating flavor.

Too sweet, too sweet, too sweet—

“It’s complicated,” the annoyed one replied. “Trust me, the less you know, the better.”

Oh,but this one hid fear much better than the first. Even and measured, through strained teeth—this one—was a much better offering. What an awful temptation to be given two vulnerable meals so close to his domain. So close tohim.

“I wish I knew less, sometimes.”

He shifted in the darkness, felt something old creak from his prone position. Recklessness could only ferry him so far, and he had learned his lesson long ago. No, caution was needed here. The metal pressed around him. His eyes collected, gathering to focus on precisely where the voices were coming from. Whispers rose around him.

Keep talking.

Keep talking.

Keep talking.

“Not gonna happen. I get it. You’re new to all of this, but there’s no going backwards. Not in this—”

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