Short nibble for my RP character Josiah Craft from Duplicity.

Or... More accurately, Death, himself.

/forever struggling

RP Profile for Josiah - http://helloduplicity.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=arcmembers&action=display&thread=272

RP Board - http://helloduplicity.proboards.com/

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Death breathes in the soul, his vessels' mouth contorted to a full horror of jagged and needle shaped teeth. Skin was ripping and melting around his mouth. The skin was dark and blackened like something charred. A substance almost equal to black tar and ink trailed down one side of his mouth. Death savored the dying soul, like it was rich wine. But all it ever tasted like was ash, smoke and sweet life. A dark pleasure that gave him chills and tingles deep within.

The other human was already dead, they stood frozen for a few seconds before collapsing over. No one survives after Death has ripped their souls out. He was the void of souls. The collector of souls who have outstayed their welcome. He was unlike his friend Grim, who guided lost souls to their new bodies, giving them a chance to start anew. No, he was the destroyer of life. The ultimate rival to Life herself.

A human's soul gave him enough to sate the hunger. Even other supernaturals, the ones with little power or those of unique origins. Every soul tastes different. Souls held personality, knowledge and emotions, and everyone of them was different. Rarely did he touch the souls of true demons or angels, they serve a purpose of their own and their purpose is near eternal. Only until Death was called to void them, will their souls be much more deserving.

Demons always gave a darker, more tainted taste. Always the taste of aged flesh, hellfire, acid and ash. The more powerful the demon, the richer the taste of power. It was the true taste of corruption and poison, no matter how kind a demon could be. It made him giddy with strength.

Angels were fabled ambrosia itself. Wine, feathers, heavenly nectar and ash. There is always the taste of ash in all souls. But thick honey is lathed over, ash is barely there. It was a drug to him. Higher up in the hierarchy, the stronger the effect. He would love to get drunk over the taste of angels.

Nevertheless, the taste only lingers for a few moments. The soul was delicious and Death took time to clean the black mess around his vessel's mouth, altering the face back to its normal appearance. All he needed was the soul. The body had to be disposed of properly, for his vessel's sake. Death was careful after all.

He dragged the body towards an open 'grave' in the junkyard. No Bloodhounders weren't nearby tonight and the grave was dug out by Grim days earlier, a favor for him. It didn’t take long to dump the body and bury it. It also didn't take long to clear up any other evidence that might lead back to his vessel. No one would ever find the missing man.

It also wouldn't take long to return to the little shop his vessel owned. Day was breaking and it was about time he returned to let his vessel run his life. They had a silent, mutual agreement. And Josiah never questioned why there was a terrible lingering taste of ash in his mouth on these mornings anyway. Death stayed well out of his vessel's way, only sitting idly and observing the world through Josiah's eyes.

Not until the hunger rises again, will he take control in the dark nights to silence it.