The impact of her fists, the full weight of her body, had done nothing to shake Death loose, and now she was left kneeling before him, her ribs crushed against his knees, hands balled up against his shoulders, drowning in his cool, dark eyes. She couldn't breathe; every inhale, every pulse of blood seemed to vibrate through her with crushing force, and she felt something begin to trickle down her cheek. She knew no tears, and so knew with a thrill of horror that it was blood, black, sulfuric, and laced with poisonous, deadly power.
"I see death, everywhere, because it's what she wants to see, because I make it whether I want to or not," she whispered, her words trembling as badly as her hands. She felt a burning pain at the small of her back and in her feet, felt the monster stretch and purr and reach for him, pushing itself against her skin, bleeding over onto the surface--she could have counted the scales spreading up her spine and over the curve of her hip, she thought. Swallowing a fearful sound, she went on.
"She dreams of you, of the things that call you, and you come to me because there isn't any other choice. But this is mine, this body, this life...except you don't see it. You see the other thing...the...the evil..." She was gasping for air, and against her will, she found herself unclenching her fists, curling her fingers into his coat as if to draw him closer. "How does it seem to you? Is she...is she as beautiful as she is terrible? Does she feel anything? Can she...can she reason, or is it all just madness and fury?" She needed, desperately, to know about this thing polluting her. "Is she really immortal, if some hero doesn't come to cut off her head? Can...can you touch her, still, with me in between you and one eye gone?"
She was warm to the touch, scorching hot in fact, as if lava flowed under her skin instead of blood, and her entire body was awake with desire that she knew was not her own, that existed on a level more primal than the simply sexual, a desire to consume and destroy, and yet it could only be translated through her fragile human frame as lust. "Please..." she breathed, not knowing what she was asking for, knowing only that she must have answers, and that if one of them did not look away, she was going to burst.