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Koma White
Sareth
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McGoodburger
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Post: #1
Koma White
[Image: Koma_White__by_XTaintedLullabyX.jpg]

Inspired by the song Coma White by Marilyn Manson

Originally done in watercolor pencils, but the wings got frakked up in the process so I took it into photoshop and went slightly filter happy.

The main character of this right here.

This a completely fictional short about the Angel of the Void, that I wrote as a kind of begining to a full out novel about this character I would like to write eventually. Its full of flaws, especially since I wrote it at like 6 in the morning. Inspired by the song Coma White by Marilyn Manson. But anyways enjoy.
Err...uh, slight warning towards the middle. nothing too bad but some slightly veild adulty things. I hope its ok.

Void



Slumped over the bar in a whisky induced haze sat an angel. Yes an angel. The angel of void to be exact, Komantael or Koma for short.
However despite being the angel of void, of nothingness, at the moment he was tormented by visions of the things he had seen in his lifetime, things not even the strongest drink could make him forget.
He stood, lighting a cigarette and wandering out the door into the snow nearly disappearing except for the waterfall of raven hair that was the only bit of Non-white in his other wise white on white suit and his pale snow colored skin. Even his eyes were the color of snow. Pure, white, The first snowfall. But behind those eyes was anything but purity. Behind those eyes were thousands of years of horrors and of his time spent on Earth doing everything his creator claimed was a sin. How many bottles had he emptied? How many cigarettes had he forced through his lungs? How many whores in his bed? All in some pathetic attempt at rebellion or maybe just to forget for a little while. Just to pretend he was a human man and with a simple word could earn gods forgiveness. Just to pretend he hadn’t seen what he had seen, done what he had done.
Koma walked through the dark streets of the city, the alcoholic haze already starting to fade. Damn his tolerance for…everything. At the end of the corner stood a young blonde woman, a fur coat wrapped around her. She looked up catching his eye. Just that one look and he was at her side.
“ What can I do for you stranger?” she let go of the coat revealing a curvy body in barely enough clothing to let anything to the imagination. She shivered despite her efforts not to.
“ Anything you can.” he replied his voice low, breath still carrying the scent of whisky and scotch.
Her ice colored eyes stared intensly at him, as if she knew what he needed. Maybe she did. She took his hand and lead him several blocks away to an old motel, the bricks barely holding the structure up. She entered through the door, taking a key from a tired looking man at the desk.
Everyone in this city looked like that. Tired, like all their strength was being slowly sucked up by the city in a sad attempt to restore life to itself.
She opened the door and lead him into a small dirty room.
“ Fifty bucks up front.” she said. Her voice low, full of promises.
He handed her the bill which she tucked into a desk drawer.
She slid off the fur coat her Golden hair shining in the dim light, She seemed to posses some kind of life others here did not, a beauty that was due less to her physical self than the strange vitality she had. It was like she alone was able to keep this city from using her up. She clung to her life with so much strength and force it brought tears to his eyes.
Koma drifted again, his mind clouding over, not because of alcohol but of because of the chance to forget, even just for a moment, in the heated tangle of bodies he was someone else. It wasn’t him winding his fingers through her soft gold hair or screaming his pleasure into her satin skin. It wasn’t his lips that caressed her neck or that spilled himself across her sweat coated stomach. Not his heavy breathing, his sweat soaked skin crushing against hers to linger in her strange vitality.
He left before his mind could clear itself. Lighting another cigarette he continued down the lonely streets to drown himself in sin.
* * *
The sky was becoming light, the sun crawling slowly into the sky, what represented hope and new beginnings to most represented despair to Koma. It meant his time on Earth was ending.
He collapsed in a drunken stupor upon a set of stone steps. Laying his cheek against the cold cement he lamented the coming dawn. He looked up briefly to see where he had fallen and all but choked on the irony. He lay on the steps of a small rundown church stuck right in the middle of the towns worst neighborhood. God had a wicked sense of humor, the sick bastard.
Koma pushed himself up, staggering a bit, intending to get as far away from the creators sick humor as possible. But he found himself instead walking towards the church. Not like it mattered, in this neighboor hood the doors would be locked. But he tired anyway and was surprised to find them open. He paused telling himself to leave and live out the rest of his time on earth. He opened the doors and went in.
The inside of the church was as shabby as the outside with faded red carpet covering the isle between the dilapidated pews. The Alter was little more than a wooden box covered in cloth. Fitting he should find such a church, he an angel that had sinned more than any man. Hidden in a corner was one small confessional. Koma walked towards it a strange urge coming over him. Some wish to be one of the chosen children, to confess and be forgiven.
He opened the door to the confessional and sat down looking around.
“ Forgive me father for I have sinned.” he muttered to himself, not expecting an answer.
“ How long has it been since your last confession?” Came the reply from the other side of the screen. How strange a priest here at this time of night.
“ I have never confessed before, father.” Koma continued. What the hell was he doing. He wasn’t human. He was an angel, a degenerate angel yes, but an angel, if this simple human priest knew what he was he would fall to his knees in awe.
“ Tell me your sins child.”
Koma found himself answering, instead of getting up and leaving as he should “ I’ve murdered, taken whores to my bed, abused drugs and alcohol of all kinds. I blasphemed and cursed God. Every sin you can name I’ve done, knowing full well what I was doing.” His eyes began to become heavy, as if he were falling asleep, but it was his call home. He would close his eyes soon as if sleeping, and wake up in the white kingdom again, to suffer through another twenty years of horrors until he could have his one day on Earth again. His eyes closed, Ahh it was time. He didn’t even hear as the priest gave him his penance. It was as if he floated in a void. But he would wake soon and his own personal hell would return to him.

[Image: SarethBanner.png]

Banner by Elinox.
2010-02-20 22:22
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