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2016-02-01
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1/1
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6
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Odd Desires

Summary:

Undertaker considers the differences between human beings and grim reapers, and also finds pleasure in what both the living and the dead provide.

Notes:

I wrote this... about eight months ago. I'm not too sure what I was going for. Undertaker doesn't have sex with an OC or any of the characters, just with a corpse.

Work Text:

Instinctive were human beings, as all were, and I was not an exception to what may happen to me in both mind and body. These creatures did not differentiate from myself when it came to natural matters of requirement that were indeed excusable by the mere fact that human beings were born for that craving. An example would be consumption of food, needing to quench thirst with any form of liquid (though it seemed that liquor was the favorite among those who reach of age), and the body’s temptation. These few were undeniably ones that not even I can scorn and belittle them for, as these necessities were adsorbed by the grim reaper in order to keep him in good health. Unlike a corpse– which my body is not far from– that I love so deeply and adore, I cannot resist food and drink, or else I shall rot the same way as my beloved shipments. And as selfish as I may sound, for I hope I can be excused for my confidence, I have yet to create a coffin suitable once my time comes. I do not fear that death, perhaps, will knock on my door any moment, as a welcome sign hung by the hinges of the door surely expressed the train of thought I am going about.

It was time I halt my ramblings and reach the point of my squabbling. Simply put, my desire is the same as everyone else’s, though my colleagues would argue that I have other means in order to gain my pleasure that are meant to never be spoken at a gathering surrounded by high class folk, donning their petticoats and gentlemen’s wear, and more of in a dark alley as I slaughter young women, serving my own fetishism. Nay say, that I do not. A twisted mind that I have; subjecting the living to my fantasies, however, is unable to satisfy the body’s temptation. Indeed, by the other means that my colleagues speak about, the flesh of the dead would serve the purpose of my own fetishism. My newly found occupation assists me in my endeavor, without even knowledge of what may be done.

As I slowly walk around the shop, there are words to be said, and only those that a man who lost his mind not too long ago would whisper. “With flesh as sparkling as pearls, why is it that you die so sooon?” Tapping on the side of the coffin my adorable little kitten laid upon, there was nothing truly that I felt for this woman. She died as she lived, she had regrets as all others, and certainly, she was destined for a bright future. Though one cannot expect such a thing as a bright future to be a possibility, for a cinematic records displays nothing of her pitiable life after that. However, somewhere in my sickeningly mindset, that has noticed the changes of mankind for decades, there was a purposed hope of some sort. This topic, I am afraid, would not last for long, as it’s only a tiny speck from an even tinnier dust particle in which I call ‘a grim reaper’s hope’.

Back to the present, as most would say, when confronted with a distraction that harbored no true emotions towards the current happenstance, only providing characters that have already been established; a familiar pale hand reached down, the fingers that lovingly stroked the face of the unfortunate woman no doubtingly being mine, were smoothly placed upon broken skin from disaster it formerly experienced. The feeling of porcelain skin touching ivory brought about a cold sensation, one that brought my heat to be absorbed into her body, greedily, as if my soul was being sucked into the abyss of death. It was a depressing feeling, I would say, though I am not the least bit ashamed that the chills that occurred only intensified my urges.

The quiet that surrounded the room gave a sudden atmosphere. This was how it was always like, without my voice, it was eerily silent, with the entire room dimly lit and every action giving way to no shame at the knowledge that no man would interrupt. I leaned down to further the sin that I would create, the closeness to the devil that a grim reaper was, despite being labeled as a god, the amount of concern I have for what I am about to do was little to none. Laying a kiss upon her lips, the same soul sucking motion came to me in a bizarre manner, and once again I could feel those instinctive urges that human beings were prone to. I continued to violate her, and in the back of my mind I did not see it in the same way as those would consider. For her soul was far from intact, and nothing lie here besides a body, nothing more.

Most men, in their beautiful prime state, would shame themselves for wanting so little to satisfy their desires. Myself, on the other hand, hold pride that a small portion of my extremely long life would not be wasted on trivial manners such as this very instance. Unbuttoning and unzipping was all that I did, with the least effort as possible, the before actions allowing me to lead on with pulling down my pants slightly. Before finishing my business, the dull expression on my face became noticeable. Indeed, enjoying the situation would surely be ideal, though as I said not too long ago, humans, alive, making decisions so laughable that they posed as a jester for my amusement, were able to make me enjoy myself. Though not beautiful, I decided that was what these creatures were good for, and I would not allow their spotlight to be taken.

Trailing my fingers lightly down her body, her stomach was what caught my attention, and to my joy, everything contained within her stomach was yet to be drained. I pressed down extremely hard on her stomach, and again, and again, and I am not sad or happy to admit this fact that it amused me greatly in a way that is not understandable. It was the imagery that her organs moved and emitted a squashed sound that brought my amusement, and I almost laughed, before realizing that she was dead. Oh, how pitiable. She could have given me such a laugh, if only she were alive. Picking her up from the back of her hips, I finally decided to finish my business, though the sound, as I mentioned before, echoed back at me from the hollowness of my workplace. It aroused me plenty more, the limpness of her body cracking at the sudden jolts of movement, and again, not a single sound I heard unless from myself.

How dreadfully dull this day was, without the company of someone alive, bringing me enough joy for the next struggle of the day.