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Exercise for Sore Muscles
The Baldwin Sister
The Devil broke open the pomegranate and laid the two halves in front of him. They glistened slightly, like rubied honeycombs. With a calm and steady hand, he reached into the fruit and took 6 of the arils. It was meant to be a symbolic gesture, the closing of an agreement between himself and the Price of Darkness. He was surprised when the fruit was sweet, just a hint of tartness to tug at the corners of his tongue.

Satan’s neutral smile crept upwards as he reached for two more of the seeds that had fallen to the table. He wasn’t sure what eight seeds meant as far as the contract went, but surely the Devil could see he was just not wasting any. He didn’t realize taking the next three, easy prey sitting so exposed in one half. The Morning Star’s smile continued to grow with each consumed piece. Until he reached out and took one of the pomegranate halves into his hands and fiendishly began to tear it apart.

Red juice dribbled between his fingers and across his chin. He tore frantically against the pith, trying to free more kernels, trying to consume more. The Devil stopped smiling when he gave up the separation and pressed his mouth fully against the ruby flesh. The garnet red stained his lips, his fingertips, his tongue, his cheeks, his palms. He tossed aside the spent rind, and as the Devil reached out to reclaim the other half, he snatched it up and began to devour it whole. Surprise and a touch of fear played on the face of the Great Betrayer; this was not how temptation was supposed to go.

Finally, having gorged himself on the crimson fruit, he stared back across the table at the Devil. Red splayed out from his mouth, a carnal christening. His eyes had become a primal, emerald green. “You have lost this one, Lucifer,” an alien voice escaped from those wicked lips. “I have warned you against using my tokens in your sad, hungry contracts.”

Grim understanding and a bitter anger filled the Devil. “Take him then, Bitch Daughter,” the Lonely One spat, standing up from the table and disappearing back into the shadows of the room. The man remained there – glutted, sated, claimed, the pomegranate juice staining his skin eternally.

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Satan versus Jesus! FIGHT!!

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