Shadow Mountain dig so deep for scars

It came from a voice he couldn’t recognize - it couldn’t have been his own. But with so many voices blurring in and out of his world, who was he to tell them they had no free speech in this moment? This was their stage, and the spirits delighted in his wonderful desire here and now. Not far from their happiness, was his own. 
Was Kelina here to take stage with him and his gay little weave? Another strand in a loom made only for her? 
She could be his centerpiece, his voice to finally converse with - provided she survive his deadly lust for that scant Unknown. She had to be the one, his one, and maybe his only. 
So in this instance, the Coy could see it truly was his voice once that reply slid out as passionately as it did. 

“You.”

That level of possessiveness! It was heated beyond the pure pyres of Hell’s furnaces which baked souls on the daily, more molten than the crags of volcanic ruins. This ebony dame would know his words, she would feel his intangible delight in both pleasure and pain. And through both, she would know she was meant to roam the world in him. His world, and hers...the union of a lifetime. 

That claim was soft and silent when he had made it. And as if scarfed around her ears as gentle as a butterfly’s grace, his body too had gone from carefree and edged to silent and void. He stood with extreme stillness, nearing almost corpse movement, as he regarded that gorgeous face of hers, relishes that succulent voice one more time...

before throwing himself forward in near unreal speeds, to end it all. 
His jaws opened with devilish angle as his body became one with treachery. And with carnage in mind, he would see it wrought. 

All across that beautiful soul he so desired.