tongue pierced between canines, copper spilling into his mouth as a reminder that he too was human once and not always the broken fragments of what he is now. a fractured being searching, never quite finding what purpose ties him to the earth. I AM A GOD. a devil? lonesome either way. perhaps that’s what spared ezekiel when he had crossed august’s path some weeks before. he had been passing darkened streets in order to go home. the man had every intention to put an end to his life, but his thoughts were too blurred for august to understand: what makes this human tick? mortals, august learned, are mostly the same; scarred with traumas that he can exploit. but this one? twenty - seven days had passed and august still follows, watching as he moves through life with life, as though melancholy doesn’t seep through his pores. he can smell it now from where he sits at an arcade game.
he’s still as he stares at the flashing lights. the mechanics were easy to fool with and required little energy to manipulate. the flashing lights came to a stop, the music of the machine dying out slowly as the screen blackened. twenty - seven days & it’s the first time he’s left the comfort of peripherals. when he stood he picked up the half-emptied jar of arcade coins with him then approached the desk with a practiced grin, “ hey man, you got a piece of paper and a pen? one of your machines just death rattled. ”
* @obsecuring .
