Tenebris shortTenebris. The pinnacle of fear in many a nightmare, a mystery in hundreds of legends. His growl radiates through the minds of the strong, turning them weak with fear. His howl is heard for miles, carried on a cool breath of October air. On the darkest mountain he sits, waiting for blood. He’s been described as a great black wolf, his fur as dark as pure onyx, dripping with rusted scarlet. Within him, resides the souls of many. He is the keeper, an angel of death like no other. The great demon bears a cross, not of God, but of his home in the fiery depths of Hell. Of his maker, his master. He bears the cross of malice, of hatred.Tenebris short2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This hellhound and I share only little differences. Commissioned from Hell, I too, have the seed of darkness within me, my eyes as black as those of the wolf, as black as the vortex of death that is my soul. On this hill, I stand by his side, violet orbs narrowed as I take in our surroundings, only to shift to charcoal as I sense an intruder in our keep.