Tiger-thorned Demon

In the darkness of the twenty-second hour, I was walking threw a damp alleyway on the way to my apartment, lusting for sleep. I was a few blocks yet from home, when a flash of movement caught my eye. The pale, delicate figure of a woman with hair falling to her waist in genital dark waves, that, when moved to the side, reviled the colorless face of a tiger tattooed on the back of her left shoulder, stood facing a stature of a Gothic-style angel. Hearing my clanking boots on the stone walk, she turned, reviling another stunning tattoo. This one of a black rose budding just above her right hip, with a thorny stem reaching across her stomach and stopping on her left hip. A sight few mortal men wouldn't die for.
I felt a cold chill run down my spine as the slitted pupils of her intense wine red eyes seemed to bare into my very soul, which, of course, they were. In a matter of a few seconds, she had analyzed every aspect and element of my being. Her blood colored lips curled away from her stunningly white, and viciously sharp teeth in a cruel, sinister smile. I had less than half a second to register the sneer before my skull shattered agenst the stone wall, drenhing my hair with blood, and the cold preasure of hard fingers was crushing my windpipe. She reliesed me and her hand went to my cracked head instanly reliven my pain and ridding it of blood. Without bliking or breaking eye-contactshe calmly licked my blood from her fingers. Before I could truly contemplate getting up, she slowly, softly, sweetly touched her lips to mine. Evil! My mind screamed. Satanic beast! Yet, the texture, sent, and flavor, despite the blood, of her genital kiss was irresistible. My hands explored the beautiful swoops of her body and the silky texture of her perfect hair.
It was nearly an hour into the new day before the soft demon abruptly pulled away. Her eyes flicked quickly around before once more, pecking my lips and running swiftly, hair trailing behind her in such a way she seemed to be on raven wings.
The next day I could think of nothing other than my mysterious- what? Lover? Obsession? I wasn't sure what she was to me. All I knew is that I must find her.
A week passed.
A month. No signs of my new... whatever, had reviled themselves to me. Finally, I gave up hope of ever seeing her again. As I walked into my kitchen there she was. Laying across my counter in a seductive pose slowly rapping her pointed, scarlet nails on the marble surface. "Long time, no see. My name is Lilith. I've come to warn you. Never, ever, come within a cobra's spit range of me again. My husband doesn't like it," she said slowly. Hopping off the counter without a sound she was to the door before turning and saying, "But between us, my dear Lucus, you are, by far, the better man." A genuine smile flashed across her face before returning to a morbid frown that caused a furrow between her perfectly arched eyebrows. Turning gracefully on the ball of her foot, she squared her shoulders and marched out with a stubborn, "Hmph!"
What the heck? I shook my head and went to the cupboard to find my strongest spirits. After drinking away most memory of the strange encounter with Lilith, I went to bed dreading the hangover that was sure to come.
It didn't.
In my dreams, a red-skinned man with goats' feet laughed demonically as he slowly pulled out every last one of my organs, being sure to keep me in my suffering "life" before finally clipping the aorta.





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