((from now on all my stories will have some small screenie at the top so that /I/ can remember who I wrote them about, sorry if it bugs you))



Backing away, slow, steady.

A continued approach.

For a moment the bloodied stag considered lowering his antlers, run them all through.

Why not?

Pulsing, pumping, slick with a mixture of green flesh and red blood.

mary mary quiet contrary how does your garden grow?

His heart.

It was, after all, what allowed him to be loyal only to himself.

If another managed to take it, he would follow them, endlessly.

After all, home is where the heart is.

right?

He shook his head, legs, lean and no longer crackling as he stepped into the water, gently folding beneath him.

With ash from hell and an angel who fell

"hide it" his metal on rock voice grated out into the cool air, sinking down into the water, muscles sore from racing over hills and dips slowly relaxing, hunks of dried blood and thin stripes of flesh drifting away from him.

He rolled to his side, keeping his head above the water, his hearts.


"The best place to hide a heart"
He rose slowly, newly hydrated gore dripping down his flanks.


"Is in a chest"

He smiled, slow and wide.

Not his chest.

that would be too obvious.

But nobody would suspect.

another's.

He waded from the cool pool, leaving bloody tracks.

He was, however, lacking in one important detail.

Someone whom he trusted.

"and it shall be my downfall"

And dismembered hearts strewn in a row