SPN Fic, Artist
Apr. 25th, 2011 04:05 pmPre-series
Some abstract part of his mind wonders; as a splash of yellow/green hits the wall, maybe he could have been an artist. Were it not for the things that killed his mother, and a fathers revenge.
Red occasionally highlights the greenish strokes; complementary colours? It has been too long since he read that art book, lying in/out of the shadows (ciarascuto?) of that dusty library, newly poltergeist free, waiting for Dad to find him, hopefully before his blood ruined more of the books.
So now he painted with demon blood, and his own. Sometimes Sammys. One time there were three, and the colors flowed together, cuts and smears and he himself was a bleeding canvas.
Maybe he would have been an artist. Using watercolors, acryic, or oils. Instead of blood, bile, and mucus.
Maybe he is, and hunting his art, but he would never sign his name with a pen or brush, and never tell Sammy that he had thought about what would have happened, if he had escaped too.
Some abstract part of his mind wonders; as a splash of yellow/green hits the wall, maybe he could have been an artist. Were it not for the things that killed his mother, and a fathers revenge.
Red occasionally highlights the greenish strokes; complementary colours? It has been too long since he read that art book, lying in/out of the shadows (ciarascuto?) of that dusty library, newly poltergeist free, waiting for Dad to find him, hopefully before his blood ruined more of the books.
So now he painted with demon blood, and his own. Sometimes Sammys. One time there were three, and the colors flowed together, cuts and smears and he himself was a bleeding canvas.
Maybe he would have been an artist. Using watercolors, acryic, or oils. Instead of blood, bile, and mucus.
Maybe he is, and hunting his art, but he would never sign his name with a pen or brush, and never tell Sammy that he had thought about what would have happened, if he had escaped too.