If you like scores, then you must dig out The Fountain. I picked this score up a few months after seeing the movie, which was, and still is, incredible. I use it for meditation or anytime I need to unwind my mind. I’d post “Death is the road to awe” but sadly it is an itunes protected file. Trust me on this one.

Belial hated the sensation of the gate peeling away from his body as he stepped through to the other side. It was automatic to brush away the silvery ooze, even if the crap always found its way back on its own. It seemed more and more difficult to transport, something he could neither credit to heaven or hell alone. Neither really cared for him to step foot on Earth.

He walked to the bank of windows on the other side and stepped out into the fading sunlight. It always felt cold here in comparison to Hell, and what warmth the sun provided was a welcome one. Still, it wasn’t long before the shadows fell and minutes later, the sun was hidden behind a thick blanket of heavy, rain laden clouds. Heaven, it seemed, knew he had arrived.

‘As if I needed reminding.’ He said to no one in particular. A quick glance at his watch said that 10 minutes would soon elapse and his latest contract would begin. Belial was a precise creature, and that was something she would learn soon enough.

He shucked his jacket just as a cold wind brushed his back. Only his head turned just enough so that his gaze could find the shape hidden among the blinding light. The damn things were so fucking bright they made his eyes hurt.

‘Belial,’ the voice spoke, ‘up to no good, so soon?’ His pupils adjusted and he caught a glimpse of curly, red-blonde hair.

‘Uriel.’ Belial smiled tightly; it was more a baring of his teeth. ‘Done sucking from the power teat?’

‘Only wondering what you are doing here, Darkling.’ Uriel replied, moving around him until Belial was forced to look up and upon him or seem obedient because of the tilt of his head. Angels and their fucking power trips - what he’d do with a few of them on his turf.

Belial met the ghostly blue gaze of the angel and stared back with his own black one. ‘Just collecting on a contract.’

‘Is that so?’ Uriel’s finger grazed over the carved onyx cat on the dresser and it slowly faded to white. ‘Might I see it?’

‘No. And if you bless one more fucking thing in here, I’ll call foul.’ Belial’s hand slammed down on the dresser and he turned his black glare onto the cat until the black blossomed and spread. ‘I’m more powerful than you, Uriel, so I suggest you get to your point quickly lest I prove it.’

‘You could not.’

‘Try me.’

They stared at each other for a long moment before Uriel turned away. ‘You only distance yourself from the Gates, Belial.’

‘They were denied me centuries ago and through no fault that you, and your brethren, did not share with me, Uriel. Really, take your advise, if this is indeed what you are offering, and go share it with that mortal Junior is fucking as we speak.’

The angel stiffened and struck out with a flare of white light that was absorbed by the blackness and shadow that was falling; Belial’s own darkening evil. ‘Your funeral. I’ll tell you how this story ends, brother. The world ends, heaven wins, and you and your kind are stuck in limbo, waiting and wanting for the rest of eternity.’

‘Newsflash.’ Belial replied, his voice lowering, ‘We’re winning. The sheep don’t want to go home.’ Belial’s head turned sharply then and looked to the now open door leading into the room where the girl slept. ‘Time to collect.’ He looked back at the angel with disgust, ‘Leave, you are now in violation of the treaty.’

Uriel bowed mockingly and left without a word. Belial’s gaze fell upon the cat which was now an odd shade of gray. ‘You can’t undo me, boy.’ He said to the air, a second later, the cat was once again, black.

He crossed into the other room, shoving open the door in the process with an ungraciously loud noise. She only stirred a fraction, so the sleep was still wearing off of her as he stood there above her. She was quite a pretty thing, but just shy of the girl-next-door look that worked up mobs of frenzied searchers when they turned up dead or missing. Dead wouldn’t be an issue, but missing certainly had already become a reality.

Her hair was golden brown, and looked, like her skin, untouched by sunlight. He knew her eyes to be amber, indeed, that was what caught his eye when he found her sitting alone reading in that coffee shop. She had found him, really. Her gaze had burned into his back until he was forced to put up or shut up. Chances to gather contracts with so little work rarely fell into a demon’s lap, and Belial wasn’t so jaded as to turn down what amounted to a free meal.

He was in there to pick up the girl behind the counter, in truth. She had already put the first nail in the coffin by cheating on her delightfully naive husband, stealing $853.27 over the course of her employment at the coffee shop, and that hit and run last year. If she hadn’t lived in such an obscure place, they would have collected her within a week or two, but being out there in the midst of downtown po-dunk meant it took a demon a little longer to bother.

But no, instead of picking up ‘Farmgirl2k’ with whom he’d chatted well over three days, and determined ripe for the plucking, he’d found himself lured in by a set of curious amber eyes peering at him over a book. Temptation was indeed what called to all sinners, and she had tempted him enough to redirect his efforts. ‘Farmgirl’ would have to wait. Belial was certain eternity wouldn’t be stalled by a few days reprieve.

[Dealing with Devils, Part 4]

Over the next two days you should see an update to Dealing with Devils, Abduction and of course, the end of Time & Need. The writing bug has bitten.

Meanwhile, I’m off to enjoy my overcast Sunday with some very close friends.

The follow up to my previous post is written and in a sort of limbo right now, so just be patient, those of you looking forward to your smut.

I, myself, am feeling a rare form of morose and violent today. Can’t identify the exact cause, can’t really nail it down to any person, or even an event.

No, I am in that place where I work non-stop, and, unable to do that at the moment thanks to a slow spring, and my accursed fore-planning, have now no direction for it that doesn’t involve hurting myself or someone else. Seeing as I am limiting myself to the sane pace of one run and one gym visit in a day, that leaves reckless brawling with my friends, or picking on someone who gives a shit about me.

Most of them have thick skin.

I am restless, discontent, angry, but what is really bothering me, is that I have no person, no thing, upon which to heap my displeasure. If I analyze that, and apply my thinking logic to it, that means what exactly? It means I’m thinking too fucking much.