WELL IF YOU INSIST- I WANT TO KISS THAT ELEGANT MOTHERFUCKER OF SCHILT DAMN IT
Of the Eight Judges, Hellbat Schilt excells best at kissing. His lips silk to touch, cotton against your fingertips. Moist, gentle mist, his most delicate parts bend to the one-of-a-kind youth whom holds his hidden heart.
Schilt is a grand monster to behold, but an even more gentle presence to love. The incredible amount of humanity Schilt shows contradicts his assigned title, no less stubborn than any other living being desperate to live.
A foe of many faces; Cold as ice, soft as fresh clouds with the grounded lifeforms he deems worthy of his mercy. One with jewelic nightfall, a free bird in the flock, swimming free like a leaf in the deep ocean sky.
Schilt is a sinster creature, the dark beast-well hidden between anicent, reploid ruins. Told in many old stories that keep the misbehaving childern of Neo Arcadia dead awake in pure terror; Afraid to be stolen, taken into the endless curtain black of the old, abandoned world. Destroyed, devastated beyond repair. Never to return home again.
He whispers a sweet summerbreeze that locks you in a devilish daze, the looming shadow beneath your cresent moons, parted open in curious anticipation, sealed under his supreme control.
Drinks your voice, your sounds, your moans like fine wine. Leaving not a single lonely drop untasted, unclean. Dripping a forbidden glazing on your ears, smelling of forest rain and fresh raked leaves.
Temptation, soul-sucking judgment, merciless in bringing down the hammer. He'd rather be with no one else than you, loyal as ever to the object of his affection. A devil, a bat, a blood drinking heathen of the deepest night.
Schilt is a divine, vampiric malice that won't let you go if you wander too far into the cave's darkness. He is very lovely to look at indeed, but also hungry. Tread carefully, God help you if Schilt wants you too much.
You can barely breathe by the time Schilt finishes, cocky about how fast you fall like a ragdoll into his awaiting arms. Gaze lost, staring deep at your whole world, the pretty pink star lonesome in pitch black all-consuming void only longing to eat you whole.
You melt like butter into his mouth, baren to the intense heat of his stronger body. Blood pumping and heart racing, Schilt can smell just how roused you are. But the fun shouldn't end so early, too soon. Especially when you're so exposed. Vulnerable to the predator before you, mindless silly putty on the ground.
How can a cat resist playing catch with the corpse of the mouse?
Your mouth empty, too empty even, begging to be devoured entirely. No one can ignore the call of the wild, the alluring invitation of willing prey.
Fangs grazing your bottom lip, threatening a pleasurable prick of pain. Claws below your chin, dragging across your throat like knives, digging lightly enough to not break skin.
Schilt savors you like your the last person on this ruined Earth, and he is determined to prove just how much you make him feel, how much a paindul day far apart from you does to him.
Weak in the knees, at the dark mercy of his sharp tongue, you know better then to ever underestimate the great bat. Without a thought spared you give onto him, to the devil and his filthy dirty promises; submitted forever in the trail of endless devoted smooches and love bites littered like polka dots on your naked flesh, intimate and forthcoming.
Beware the great bat.
Though he may kiss you, cherish you in ways you have only dreamed of, he will remain an eternal slave to his nature
and bite.
