Chaos Inside A Pen

The two immediately went to Terminus where the winged lady is said to be transferred after a rescue operation done by the 8th Police Unit in the city. They found out the angel in the sex video chained and jailed deep within the sewer annals that serve as the headquarters of the biggest prostitution ring in the city. Though her beauty is still apparent, the sky maiden shows signs of exhaustion both physically and emotionally. Her eyes still have the ethereal spark on them and yet dark, heavy rings encircle it. Trace of tears is all over on her fine, high cheeks and her whole body is quivering as she put herself in a fetal position. Her wings are now but a vestigial prosthetic; its bones are broken while some of the feathers are shedding one by one. Once inside, Draymon and Mike were accosted by guards into the underground floor of Terminus. This is one of the key features of the most highly secured facilities that house prisoners and criminals that are considered a threat...

Every boy in the middle of puberty considers this as their private rite of passage. You can’t call yourself a man at all if you never douse your eyes and feast your fantasy with the voluptuous body of a woman in fancy names; no qualms about the race, the color of the skin nor the size of her breast. What matters is that she is dancing in whatever room with a man all fired up: pumping and thrusting each of the flesh to one another. Bathed in sweet sweat. Moaning as loud as they can which makes it harder for you to unable to control the urge. The more it drags on the more you get closer to the hidden pleasure of boyhood. Until it explodes. With a sigh, you will end it. Guilt be damned. Inspector Draymon recalls his first memory of pornography with awkward embarrassment. Of course, it is an open secret to anybody that boys in their teen encounter such intense curiosity about how it was done between the flowers and bees or as his friend metaphorically describe with more blat...

Image: Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel This is the crossover that no one ask for: The son of Lucifer and Daughter of Lilith in one story of how they save the world that despise them. What am I doing here? These words echoes without the usual hint of existentialist dilemma inside my head as I found myself inside the most unlikely place for someone who is a blatant practitioner of dark arts. It’s been a years but I still found the ambiance inside the holy grounds of St. Benedict’s Basilica as profoundly powerful. The last time I step my foot on its unfading red carpet was when I decided to pursue the life of a magician. Since then I never enter any church or any sacred place (except maybe those who are “esoterically” sacred) not because I am afraid that I will burn into ashes once I enter it like how they always indoctrinate   those poor souls who never even understand a single grain of truth about the occult. “You are not supposed to be here.” Coming ou...