Mary Magdalene (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} gospel_of_mary) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} nevermore_logs,@ 2013-10-22 17:35:00 |
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WHEN: Late into Monday night
WHERE: His building
WHAT: Nightmares and then Them in general
It was hard for Mary to see what the bonds wrapped around the Aztec were made of, but even without looking too close she could see that they moved of their own accord and tightened around his limbs anytime he tried to move. He didn't look so strong now, here in the red glow of Hell, brought to his knees and bloodied.
And every time that Mary tried to get to him, she found her way barred. By demons, by trenches, by fire, by Lucifer himself. The Morningstar caressed her cheek and tilted her head like she was a rag doll. He whispered things to her that she knew were horrible, but there was no detail. Her own mortal mind couldn't even reach the suggestions that Lucifer presented.
Huitzilopochtli tried to stand again, but he couldn't even lift his head to look at her. She could smell his flesh burning from where she stood. Her own skin was burning too, where Lucifer had his grip on her chin. She did manage to hear one thing that Lucifer said, just a snatch of words among all his sharp-tongued whispers.
'You're already too late.'
Mary woke up and found she'd been crying in her sleep and she sat up, wiping at her face and trying to remember where she was. Her room at Huitzilopochtli's building. The one that had once been her bedroom before they'd been intimate, and had acted as storage for her things when he'd left her. Now it served as an office of sorts, where Mary could go to sort out the things she needed to do for those in the community.
It had been at the desk and over a stack of paperwork that she'd fallen asleep, and now she got to her feet quickly and left the room to go find Huitzilopochtli, desperately needing to banish her nightmare. It hadn't been true. It wasn't true. Lucifer wasn't here and Huitzilopochtli was fine.
That didn't stop it feeling true and even though it was some late hour of the night she found herself calling out his name in the darkened building.