Page 105 of Demon Kissed
The Nightmare Before Christmas thingy?
This time, my smile is broader, wider, practically cleaving my face in two.
I’ll win my girl back, there’s no doubt in my mind about that.
And hopefully, it’ll be in time for the winter dance.
Hmmm. I wonder if I can get a matching suit as well…
I’ll buy this entire bloody world if it means keeping her in my arms.
* * *
AKOR
On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be if I kidnapped her, threw her in the back of my minivan, and locked her in my bedroom until the end of time? Asking for a friend, of course.
And that friend’s me.
There’s an emotion settling in the pit of my chest, one that I’ve never felt before.
It almost feels like…like my heart’s on fire. Like someone’s doused it in gasoline and lit a match andwhoosh. Big flames.
But that’s assuming I have a heart, of course, instead of an endless pit of pain and despair.
You would think I would thrive on shit like this, being a pain demon and all, but it fucking sucks. This broken heart thing? Hate it. It kinda makes me want to slam my hand into my ribcage, grab my heart, and then crush it into a ball of fine dust particles. And then, just because I’m a vindictive son of a bitch, I’ll give my crushed heart to Katrina as a gift.
That’s assuming I don’t die from it, of course. But semantics, am I right?
I’m practically giddy as my mind runs through the various things I can do to win her back. Isn’t there a saying about the possibilities being endless?
Oh! Maybe I’ll turn William into a firework for her enjoyment! It’s totally possible. I just need a saw, a lighter, and explosives.
I know I’m feared by the other demons—even my own murder. They call me eccentric and crazy, lewd and irrational.
But they haven’t seen crazy yet. They’re going to. The entire fucking world will.
Because I’ll win Katrina back, even if I have to embrace my own insanity to do it.
* * *
VAN
I’ve watched a million women walk out the door over the centuries, and I’ve never even looked twice, not even to appreciate the sway of their asses as they left.
But this time, it’s different.
This time, I feel like all the color in the room leaves with her and I’m standing in this dull, black and white existence. This time, my tongue feels heavy and my knees feel leaden and I can’t move.
What is this feeling? What’s this dull thud in my chest that echoes like the cavity inside is empty?
I feel like sinking to the floor and never moving again. I feel like crawling under the covers and eating a box of chocolates. I feel like eating an entire pizza by myself and following it up with rocky road ice cream.
Oh my God.
I know what this is.
It’s heartache.
