Bruises Cover Your Arms (Belial)

[JAMES HUGHES]

Pure bliss coursed through his veins and James felt full. He was on a high. Although he was far too concerned with cleanliness and avoiding germs to actually eat his victims, he relished just feeling their blood soaking into his clothing and spattered on his skin. Later that night James would almost feverishly coat his body with soap and water and try to get the feeling off, for now he was at peace with it. The corpse that had once been an especially irritating hunter and obstacle for the demons was mangled beyond recognition with the insides carved out and the face cut up.

He dropped the knife, not even paying attention to the large clank it made on the floor. The warehouse was deserted and in a poorly maintained part of town so there wouldn’t be any cops lurking around. And other people? Well, if they didn’t keep their mouths shut and leave then James would have no problem mutilating and eventually them as well. Death was a thing of art and to truly appreciate it’s merits one had to drag out the torture and make the pain go on for as long as possible. Two days of torture on this particular hunter just because he pissed James’ off. If the loud-mouth hadn’t run his mouth about…well, about his Gwen then he wouldn’t have made it go on nearly that long since it was similar to an artist over-embellishing their pieced.

A sound in the distance alerted James of company and he stared lazily at the only entry way into the room, not even deigning the signal of another person’s presence important enough to lean down and take hold of the knife again. If he had to fight, he was well equipped physically and mentally to take down most with his bare hands.

[BELIAL]

The sound of hands striking together in a chap echoed through the warehouse as a towering behemoth stepped inside. “Ah, the sweet smell of death. A unique aroma you never forget,” he said in his ominously deep voice. Belial was definitely someone once you saw him you would never forget him. His meat suit stood nearly seven feet tall with a weight somewhere between three hundred thirty pounds and three hundred forty pounds. The demon was a monster and he knew it too. With an eerie grace which seemed so odd for a man of his size, the leather clad demon made his way into the room like he owned it.

Belial arched a manicured brow as his piercing absinthe tinted depths took in the homicidal mercenary who he saw a great deal of potential in as a possible demon. There was no doubt in his mind once James died, he could be returned to existence as a demonic force. For now, he would make an excellent foot soldier. Slowly that haunting gaze shifted from James to the horribly disfigured and mutilated corpus which was the human's handiwork. “Beautiful work... you got real talent,” he complimented James as he eyed the dead man before lifted his eyes to look at him, a faint smirk on his lips. “I could use someone as vicious as you around…” he admitted to James with a curious look as he awaited the human's reaction.

[JAMES HUGHES]

James smirked, averting his gaze for a moment to admire his handiwork. It really was a work of art. How simply stunning to see that foolish do-gooder lying in a pile of his own filth and fluids. “It’s a passion of me.” His southern accent slurred his words a bit but if the corpse hadn’t been before him then it would have sounded just like he was talking about painting a picture or something else of an innocent nature. Initially he was a bit surprised at being found out but the fact that a demon made its way inside settled all his doubts and curiosity. They tended to keep track of him and if it was one he didn’t know, well, they always found their way around chaos and discord.

Another demon wanting his aid? James could deal with that but figured he’d like to set the ground rules first. “I like killing the fools.” He admitted about the hunters. “But with every demon I like to make my own little agreement. I know I’m just a pawn to be moved around in this chess board of a shithole but I don’t do things for free.” The mercenary crossed his arms, not minding the blood stains getting over his clothes. They would wash out and if not he would burn them and find something appropriate to wear for his next outing. “I’ll kill whoever you want, for the right price. A beautiful woman to force underneath me or information on an angel called Gwen. Either will be sufficient.”

[BELIAL]

“They do make excellent prey,” he purred as he peered down at the dead man on the warehouse floor. Belial and his vessel were not cannibals, but the look of blood and torn body made his mouth water. Death and destruction was quite delicious to the demon, especially if he caused but it was entertaining to watch as well. The demon cocked his head to the side as he listened to James lay the ground rules down. Gently he nodded his head seeing what he said was perceivable. “Certainly understandable... and as it should be, for your art you should be paid well. I treat my pawns well.” Boldly he touched James' shoulder as he drew closer, but he made sure to keep some distance so that he did not frighten James away.

“Ah, you enjoy control then of the fairer sex.. it is most satisfying to hold an individual down and watch them try to fight but you know their struggle is for nothing. You are the one in control,” he chuckled darkly as he thought about all the evil things he had done and enjoyed with great pleasure. Rape was not a usual practice of Belial, but that did not mean he had not taken what he wanted from an unwilling partner on the rare occasion. It usually occurred when his mood was angry and sadistic. “An angel?” he asked with a raised brow, his lips slowly curving into a sly smile. “Is she someone you wish to possess?” He was intrigued that this human would be so interested in an angel.

[JAMES HUGHES]

James raised an eyebrow. “I know I’m just a pawn whether of yours or all demons or even just one of fate but that doesn’t mean I can’t get paid well.” His smirk grew, glad that the demon understood and accepted the foundation for this possible agreement. “Since we understand we understand each other…do you want anyone in particular dead?”

“I will force a girl if I need to but I prefer prey that is willing. It makes it so much easier to enjoy oneself when you realize that the woman underneath you wants to do everything in her power to please you.” The southern mercenary’s lips curved upward in a lecherous way for a brief moment at the thought of the countless women he had in his bed since turning to this side. Life was a bit deeper, a bit richer this way and he was able to grab it by the balls and take what he wanted. The blithe euphoria that filled his body since his killing spree was not fading fast. The memory of Gwen’s turning on him was something he would never forget and would always haunt him. “I did possess her for a while. She was mine.” Those words were something he longed to assert but in the present tense. One day…one day it would happen again. “When I realized that being a hunter was pointless and I’d end up dying anyway I decided that I’d be a mercenary for anyone willing to kill those naive fools. Gwen didn’t agree.” And ran away like a coward. James’ felt his hands tremble with a need to grab at her flesh not only to take her but in order to rid himself of his aggression in a more violent fashion.