If she could only call out in answer, help would come. But her throat was too dry, her lungs ached, and her heart pounded. She could not answer. So sh... kept climbing.The light ahead grew stronger as she came out of the fog at last onto a long flat plateau. The light—starlight. She had never seen so many stars. They seemed so close that she could reach out and touch them. They lit the darkness and scattered it to the winds. On this wide open plain, the stars shone and danced above her, flooding. Mira reached out, wanting to touch him, but before her fingers connected with his skin, she seemed to reconsider. Instead, as the door behind him slowly began to open, she spun, her foot coming out to quickly and almost effortlessly, knock him loose from whatever evil had him in its grip.She dropped down next to him, watching as the two teams began to rush into what she could see was some freaky kind of laboratory based on the mind of a psychotic serial killer who had to be hooked on some kind. Within an hour, Ishara stood on the blasted plains. In Hell, in her truest form, she stood tall and proud, muscular and lithe. Her skin was black as the void, her eyes empty globes of darkness. A leathery pair of wings folded her hairless body like a cloak, and her triangle-tipped tail swished behind her with a languid ease. A pair of horns, white as bone in the moonlight, crowned her brow. In the mortal realm, of course, she could appear as she wished, as the mortal she beheld would most wish. Now, I am 5'7", blond, green eyes, curvy. She's 5'3", blond, blue eyes, skinny. But in a good way. Not that I don't eat or I stick my finger down my throat skinny. We didn't worry about purses, id's, or money. We had those new microchips implanted. You know those one that has all that shit on it for easy use. I pull up and park. Getting out, I pulled my hem down a little. We walk immediately to the front of the line and I see that it is Tank at the ropes again. My favorite bouncer! He was eying.
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