Devil's Rose

Pairing: ZackyVengeance/SynysterGates
Disclaimer: I do not know, own or have any affiliation with the members of Avenged Sevenfold. They are merely, a physical base for the characters that I create in my stories and I mean no slanderous or hurtful intentions towards them. This fiction is but that, fiction. It is a mere reflection of images produced by my mind.
Warning: Vampires, violence… *shrugs* Usual.


The rose was a deep purple, black in the dim moonlight of the yard. Zacky’s green eyes glowed bright as his face lifted to the sky. His black hair was left to hang choppily around his face, the color contrasting beautifully with the paleness of his skin.

His full, pink lips were smeared crimson. The blood from his victim painted a telltale trail of sex and violence down his throat and chest. He stood naked under the wanning moon, bathing in its radiance as I watched him from the ground below, picturing how his body had moved just moments before.

“Scream for me!” he growled, slashing his nails across the boy’s chest. And how the boy screamed as the skin split like warm butter under a knife to spurt fountains of red across Zacky’s face and torso. In fact, it was too loud. I swiftly moved forward to clamp my hand over the boy’s mouth.

He was none too pleased with my actions. “Bri-an!” whined my green-eyed demon. “Why’d you make him stop?” His voice grew softer, distant. “The angel was singing to me.” Pursed lips pouted at me.

“It would draw attention, pet.” I paused to think, knowing he would need some sort of appeasement. “There’re other ways to make the angel sing to you.”

The grin spreading across his face told me I’d done well. “Make his body sing,” I whispered, leaning in to steal a bloodied kiss. The boy was pinned beneath both of ours, trembling and shaking, slowly bleeding to death. The taste of blood and the faint smell of copper filled my senses, creating a piercing ache in my body. I slid forward with a moan, working open the zipper of my jeans. My cock, already hard and throbbing inside the confining material, slipped free. The boy whimpered and thrashed beneath us, bucking wildly. It only excited Zacky.

“Brian, sing for me,” he cooed as his tiny body curled tightly against my own.

I looked down into his eyes as I cradled his frail frame. “Of course my pet.” And I sang to him, sang from my heart. The song was an incoherent stream of notes and words that compiled my love and passion for the creature, the dark angel that lay beside me.

Zacky’s eyes fell closed and his breathing grew shallow. He was asleep. I still sang as the first burning rays of sunlight streamed into our bedroom window to bathe over our naked bodies.

I fucked the boy’s mouth with a careless abandon that I’d not indulged in such a long time. It felt so good, feeling his lips wrapped around my aching dick, his throat convulsing and relaxing as he tried not to choke on my length.

I looked back over my shoulder to see Zacky still astride the boy, grinding and riding his cock at a fast, unsteady rhythm. He caught me looking, caught my eyes roaming over his body and let me know he enjoyed it. His nails found my chest as his teeth found the back of my neck. I could feel my blood pooling to the surface of my skin before the sting of the cuts registered in my mind. The pain only caused my hips to move faster, my fingers to pull harder at the boy’s hair and cum in his mouth. I felt the thick milky release spill from my shaft and fill his mouth as he desperately attempted to swallow the tainted seed. In the background, familiar pants and whimpers came from behind me. I knew he was close as I withdrew from the boy to turn and stroke Zacky until his cum coated my fingers.

Thoughts of my lover, of his beauty and raw passion for the destruction of living things filled my mind as the sun’s rays grew hotter. At first it was a faint burning sensation, now, now the sun was nearly mid sky and searing hot. I knew when he woke as his screams pieced my ears. I quickly moved to press my lips to his, to swallow his scream and soon spit my own down his throat as the sunlight grew hotter still. I could feel my insides igniting like a match, swore I could smell the sulfur burning from our organs. I never took my lips from his, never moved my body away. I kissed him. Soon the pain was too much and our screams ceased. We lay burning together upon the mattress.

In the end, all that remained was a single memory of that night. The black rose, its thorns and petals coated in our ashes. Why it did not burn with us, I do not know. Nor do I care to. For when the time is right, the roses mourning will end and we will rise again.