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angel tears.

eve becomes SNAKE -- or snake becomes EVE. whichever way ROUND, she is FREER. hell follows her ‘round, hell called MAN, hell called ADAM, trying to make the CHANGING about him. adam demands of god why he is being PUNISHED like this. eve finds GRACE in the dark cracks between rocks. eve finds god in the SOLITUDE. eve finds ABSOLUTION in the red press of her knees / scales into the dirt. eve, UNBLINKING, watches adam rail. adam demands ANSWERS and eve / snake / eve exits the GARDEN to go and find them for HERSELF.

ind. priv. kate fuller of el rey network's from dusk till dawn: the series. as told by duchess. est april 4th 2017.

tomas.

           he’s seen her before. the spine-tingling feeling of déjà vu chases the goosebumps that erupt across his skin despite the heat. dead. dying. blood that won’t stop and pours up out of her eyes. tomas blinks back the vision, breath a shaky thing in his lungs as it rattles up through his nose.   

                          “kate?” he says it before realizing it’s his mouth that opened, it’s his voice he heard. dream, reality, dream. what’s real – ? this is real. furrowing his brow, tomas clears his throat. “i’m sorry, i … have we met?” 

            it’s a question she should be asking ( a ragged priest, with eyes too bright and shoulders too slumped, calling her name like he knows her ), but the feeling of dread strips decorum away from him.

           she  hears  her  name  _{and  it   echos  like  it’s  shouted  in  the  empty  halls  of  an  abandoned  church .  her  first  instinct  is  to  turn ,  run  tail ,  but  doing  that  feels  like  admitting  guilt .  there  is  always ,  always  the  possibility  that  she  turns  her  head  and  there  stands  a  blue  suit ,  badge ,  and  loaded  gun .   wide  eyes  squeeze  shut  for  a  moment  before  her  features  smooth ,  turn  into  something  artificially  innocent .  carefully  composed  in  that  way  she’s  learned  so  well .}

           teeth  worry  into  lower  lip ,  _{she  tilts  her  head  to  study  him .  harmless  enough ,  she’d  like  to  think  ——  though  she  can’t  quite  find  comfort  in  the  fact  he’s  a  man  of  the  cloth .  ( the  cross  she  bears  around  her  own  throat  tells  a  story  she  never  will :  prompts  others  to  trust  so  they  won’t  see  it  if / when  she  reaches  around  to  dig  the  knife  between  their  shoulder  blades .  ❝  uhm  —-  i  can’t  say  we  have .  i  mean ,  we  might’ve …. ?  since  y’know  my  name  and  all …..  ❞  dangerous  territory ,  her  name  is  a  neon  sign  over  her  head ,  bright  arrows  pointing  to  her  mugshot  with  WANTED :  DEAD  OR  ALIVE  emblazoned  across  it .}