Ethan Edwards
Supporter
Once upon a time there was a demon, wearing the guise of an angel. She was dealt with, years before many of you began to even breathe… but Ethan still dreams of her – even if some details of the past have begun to morph with the present. The memories haunt him, usually when his spirit is low and his heart needs reminding of what Hope can accomplish, especially when stoked by a stubborn refusal to submit…
That Dream
The skies were filled with dark storm clouds, and the buildings along the street below were a blasted mess. Many were burning and others were barely standing shells. Rubble was everywhere – and bodies. So many bodies, their limbs crooked, faces twisted. Torn apart by bullets or worse.
A man huddled on the cracked pavement, his clothing torn, MOLLE vest barely intact. Right in the middle of the street, Ethan was on his knees. There were pistols in both of his hands, one with the slide locked to the rear and empty. He held them loosely, his strength ebbing. The lower, front edges of both Glocks rested against the asphalt, barely in contact with the ground. Ethan’s head was bowed, and exhaustion rolled in waves from his wide shoulders. The soldier’s breathing was shallow, quick: his straining lungs desperate to slow down, but unable to.
She stood in front of him, dark leather coat hanging from her slim shoulders, her long, supple legs parted, stiletto heels dimpling the blacktop. The woman’s stomach was flat, midriff exposed, and her breasts were barely contained by a snow-white halter top. Her skin was smooth, flawless. It was the type that ached to be touched and made to be felt. Her hands rested in front of her, clasped at her narrow waist, the fingers softly entwined. The nails were long and perfectly formed, dressed in red lacquer, glinting in the firelight.
Shrouded by thick tresses the color of fire, coal-colored eyes stared down at the defeated soldier. There was no one left; all had either died or turned to her worship. Those still living – the smart ones allowed to live -- sprawled about the ruins of Ealdwic, each of them moaning and stretching in the delicious ecstasy that was her gift to them; for loving her. Some were alone, others in pairs, most others in groups of tangled limbs.
She curved her full lips into a sad pout, and her exquisite face filled with pity.
“Ethan… all you need to say is that you’re mine. It’s not so bad. All will love me -- it’s my right. You can’t be the only one who doesn’t,” her head tilted gently. “I can feel it from here. Even now you stir inside.” She reached to stroke at the bloodied tangle of his hair. “Your dreams tell you what’s in your heart…”
“It’s me,” she said, her voice like the wind, blowing at him gently. “Give yourself to me and I promise you bliss, until the end of even your days,” the voice encouraged. “You don’t even have to kneel,” her pout slowly became a gentle grin. “After all, you’re already on your knees.
“It’s where you’ve always wanted to be.. I know it is.”
His shoulders were slumped, but his breathing had finally slowed. He seemed to press into her touch for a moment, then sagged again. She re-clasped her hands, and her eyes narrowed slightly. The moans of her followers filled the smoky air. She drank it in, savoring every note and tone.
“Ethan,” she said soothingly. “I don’t wish you to end up like so many of the others have, the unwilling, the unloved… but unless you accept me, accept how you really feel and rest at my feet willingly – sweetheart -- you’ll leave me no choice.” Her eyes glowed and the big soldier stiffened, a scream boiling up from his throat. He withed for a moment, unable to move. Then the glow was gone and his body relaxed and sagged. His breathing was ragged again as he stared at the ground.
She shook her head sadly. “No one is going to save you Old One…” A sigh escaped her full lips and she shrugged. The pretty head shook sadly. “I guess it was never meant to –“
Ethan interrupted her, mumbled something -- barely audible -- his voice tired and weak. She blinked. “What did you say?”
His voice grew stronger, and slowly his face raised, ice-blue eyes meeting hers. Blood smeared his features, his lips were split, and one eye was nearly swollen shut. “I said… I don’t need anyone to save me… Olivia already did that.”
The eyes of a would-be goddess flashed with anger – and Ethan raised his still-loaded pistol and blew out her left knee….
That Dream
The skies were filled with dark storm clouds, and the buildings along the street below were a blasted mess. Many were burning and others were barely standing shells. Rubble was everywhere – and bodies. So many bodies, their limbs crooked, faces twisted. Torn apart by bullets or worse.
A man huddled on the cracked pavement, his clothing torn, MOLLE vest barely intact. Right in the middle of the street, Ethan was on his knees. There were pistols in both of his hands, one with the slide locked to the rear and empty. He held them loosely, his strength ebbing. The lower, front edges of both Glocks rested against the asphalt, barely in contact with the ground. Ethan’s head was bowed, and exhaustion rolled in waves from his wide shoulders. The soldier’s breathing was shallow, quick: his straining lungs desperate to slow down, but unable to.
She stood in front of him, dark leather coat hanging from her slim shoulders, her long, supple legs parted, stiletto heels dimpling the blacktop. The woman’s stomach was flat, midriff exposed, and her breasts were barely contained by a snow-white halter top. Her skin was smooth, flawless. It was the type that ached to be touched and made to be felt. Her hands rested in front of her, clasped at her narrow waist, the fingers softly entwined. The nails were long and perfectly formed, dressed in red lacquer, glinting in the firelight.
Shrouded by thick tresses the color of fire, coal-colored eyes stared down at the defeated soldier. There was no one left; all had either died or turned to her worship. Those still living – the smart ones allowed to live -- sprawled about the ruins of Ealdwic, each of them moaning and stretching in the delicious ecstasy that was her gift to them; for loving her. Some were alone, others in pairs, most others in groups of tangled limbs.
She curved her full lips into a sad pout, and her exquisite face filled with pity.
“Ethan… all you need to say is that you’re mine. It’s not so bad. All will love me -- it’s my right. You can’t be the only one who doesn’t,” her head tilted gently. “I can feel it from here. Even now you stir inside.” She reached to stroke at the bloodied tangle of his hair. “Your dreams tell you what’s in your heart…”
“It’s me,” she said, her voice like the wind, blowing at him gently. “Give yourself to me and I promise you bliss, until the end of even your days,” the voice encouraged. “You don’t even have to kneel,” her pout slowly became a gentle grin. “After all, you’re already on your knees.
“It’s where you’ve always wanted to be.. I know it is.”
His shoulders were slumped, but his breathing had finally slowed. He seemed to press into her touch for a moment, then sagged again. She re-clasped her hands, and her eyes narrowed slightly. The moans of her followers filled the smoky air. She drank it in, savoring every note and tone.
“Ethan,” she said soothingly. “I don’t wish you to end up like so many of the others have, the unwilling, the unloved… but unless you accept me, accept how you really feel and rest at my feet willingly – sweetheart -- you’ll leave me no choice.” Her eyes glowed and the big soldier stiffened, a scream boiling up from his throat. He withed for a moment, unable to move. Then the glow was gone and his body relaxed and sagged. His breathing was ragged again as he stared at the ground.
She shook her head sadly. “No one is going to save you Old One…” A sigh escaped her full lips and she shrugged. The pretty head shook sadly. “I guess it was never meant to –“
Ethan interrupted her, mumbled something -- barely audible -- his voice tired and weak. She blinked. “What did you say?”
His voice grew stronger, and slowly his face raised, ice-blue eyes meeting hers. Blood smeared his features, his lips were split, and one eye was nearly swollen shut. “I said… I don’t need anyone to save me… Olivia already did that.”
The eyes of a would-be goddess flashed with anger – and Ethan raised his still-loaded pistol and blew out her left knee….