Devour The Devil's Desires

In the centre of the dark pestilent swamp, the obsolete graveyard blazed with the forked lightning of the malevolent sky as the wild thunder exploded throughout the green landscape.

"Celeste, don't you dare when no one ever on this earth dared to. It's so fucking hazardous. You are just a damn human, not any ghost hunter or celestial being. What are you..." The warnings continued echoing across the belittled tin can until Lorelei Celeste abandoned the string on the ground and girded her loins to trudge on the swampland.

Breaths came out like smoke in the coldness. Twisting the wick adjuster, she hit the flame down of the hurricane lamp on in her hand. The rain was yet to arrive and she had to depart before it could.

Celeste groaned in annoyance as her boot sunk deep between the outgrown roots.

No matter how she strived to pull it up, it won't come out. Annoyed, she frantically glanced around and discovered a walking cane dug into the land, supported by gravels and a giant tree.

The water that flowed around it was surprisingly so clean. However, she didn't bother since it was almost midnight and she had to leave as soon as possible.

She reached out and once she jerked it out, an unearthly feeling formed inside her body. At the same time, a light flickered in and a screeching sound roamed – a continuous sound of someone hitting a wooden door repeatedly.

Snapping her attention to the direction, she witnessed a stilt house about ten steps ahead over the surface. Sweats drenched her body even in such cold weather. "What the heck?" The words had slipped out of her lips in fright, discerning the lock that had shut the door from outside. It seemed like someone was locked inside and was trying hard to get out.

Whilst probing the path by the cane, she moved further and with her every step closer, the smacking sound on the door decreased and eventually stopped.

She approached the house but before she could get her feet up on the stair to the door, she heard footsteps behind her. The squelch noise that had eradicated the silence was probably because of the boots sloshing through the bog.

She stiffened, throat closed, eyes widened in alarm. Not even a hunt would come to this place at this hour. It must be someone inhuman or unearthly.

The footsteps sounded close causing adrenaline to flood into her bloodstream. "Don't fucking dare to come any closer." By her rigorous warn, the footsteps halted but a hand was placed on her shoulder.

Horrified, she clutched her fingers around the cane and without meaning to she turned around and hit whatever she could – utilizing it.

A sudden phenomenon flashed and revealed the lifeless body that had fallen on the swampland. Apparent water as well as the rotten dead falls flowed over the mannequin-like body.

Celeste gasped, heart still beating, yet she felt her breathing had stopped. Gathering her courage, she held the hurricane lamp close. Though the face was covered by a hood, she had enough proficiency to acknowledge it was a man and he wasn't moving at all.

She was very sure she didn't hit too hard. She didn't have any motive to kill and it didn't inflict any would. So dead or not – it didn't appal her badly. But the fact that astonished her was the water again. It was suddenly so dark and stinky.

"Meow! Meow!"

At the wail of a cat, she glanced back and spotted a black cat staring at her with its bloodshot, hazel eyes. "W-what?" Celeste stuttered.

To her response, the cat shortly got its eyes widened and that assisted her in another awe. The problem with cats was – they get the same precise expression on their face whether they see a mice or a murderer.

Realizing there was no way to understand the lives who can't even understand themselves, she rode back to her thoughts on the man.

Shock registered on her face when she didn't spot the body there. She dipped her head and started combing the man everywhere. Unearthing it almost drown in the mud that was nowhere while ago, colours drained from her face. "What the hell is happening?" Her eyes seemed to flee from its place. Was he dead? Did she kill him? But how could a stick kill a man?

"Meow!" The cat wailed again, causing her to jerk the thoughts and look back.

"A-are you scared?" Celeste stuttered and dipped to touch it. But, the cat was fast enough to ignore her touch and plod away without giving a damn about her, without giving a damn about the entire world to be exact.

There was a saying that in ancient times cats were worshipped as deities. Whenever humans offer sympathetic vigilance to them, cats remind humans of their former status with such attitude.

Heaving a deep sigh, she began to follow the cat but in the midway, her feet went numb as she discovered a man's back facing her. Most probably, he was six inches tall and had dark hair, wearing a black overcoat.

Lightened by a hurricane lamp on the grass, the place where he was grounded looked like a fresh lawn and a bank across a stream. From where did a lawn and stream come from in this swampland?

Celeste's stomach curled and fists clenched so tightly that the nails dug into her skin.

Before him, he faced a stand of painting canvases. Using the colour palette in his hand, he was drawing something briskly as if he was in rush or couldn't control his hands.

Who paints at midnight? And what was there to paint in this swampland?

A thunder flared, illuminating the painting and the scar in his hand.

In an attempt to get a better view, she staggered forward and her body shook in tremor.

On the canvas, he had painted a girl with oil paints. Her bun was ragged, loose hair that fell over her features had contorted her face effortlessly. She seemed short wearing the vintage corset over a short white shift and split lace drawers with a pair of boots wrapping up to her knees.

Slate outer rings with teal all the way to the black, those blue eyes carried fathom deep emotions – wrath and warmth at the same time. In her grip, she had a long cane that she held against the head of a veiled man.

The girl was Lorelei Celeste and it was the panorama of her killing the man earlier.

Whilst her hand jerked, she glanced down at the carved cane and noticed the handle was metallized by a naked human body. Grasped by panic, she immediately threw it away and turned to the man who was nowhere already, lost in the sight.

"I know you haven't gone far. Come out." She shouted, her voice shaky as her eyes rolled with alertness and her hands remained clenched by subconscious demand.

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