Those Eyes: Cruelty

Those eyes…

Those great black eyes…

They sent a shudder through her; eyes that haunt her dreams. She cried as he approached her, touched her cheek, took hold of face. He bent down to her and took her lips in a vicious kiss. Not this again… His hands were his power over her; his jealousy their bitter and enforcing ally. Please, not again... Her hands raised to refuse but he pulled on the chain from her thick metal choker and she lurched forward violently. “Deny me and I will be far more brutal.” She could not stem the tears and his words only served to bring more of them. He would wound her without thought, then he would smooth away the hurt with his lies. “ Beautiful angel. How I love you…” A gentle kiss accompanied that lie to entice her cooperation.

She stared up at him with her vivid blue eyes. Not anymore…no more of this…She was dead inside anyway. Everything was stripped of her by this man: her dignity, her only love, her freedom…Why try anymore? His hand took up her chin and he kissed her again, his hand tugged on that thick chain to pull her somehow closer. God, help me…I can’t even scream against his torture anymore…

“Worthless girl…useless girl. Good for nothing, too small to do any good. “ His words came back to her then, how they caressed her mind with a ghost-like hand. She whimpered and closed her eyes tight against his invading kiss. If she could just push him off…His cold, biting fingers found her waist. She pushed from him and skid across his ebony floor, her white hair a mess from her efforts.

Did he know how much she hated him? How much she hated her master…

“Why not just kill me if I’m so useless, master?” Her blue eyes stared up in pleading, for she was unable to kill herself. She could not destroy herself, for fear that she was not strong enough…

“ Why should I kill you? Your betrayal runs deeper than any death I can conjure.” He laughed and wrapped his steely fingers around her small wrist. He pulled her viciously up and threw her against the wall. She heard the crack her of her skull against the polished oak.

She whimpered but would not fight back. Why do anything? I can just hope God awakens one day to end his bloody rein. He dug his fingernails into her throat as he sought to smother it in his pale hands. It hurt her, but he was not depriving her of anything that she did not need. Air…what is that to something that is not alive? She grinned up at him, she would dare him to do more. “Sear my flesh. I would love to feel something again, master.” Her heart had gone into a winter. Rekt Sin was dead…

Every time…every time she loved some one…

If he had not taken Rekt Sin away, someone else would have. She laughed in a strange detached way. She laughed the way Volle Monde did, a laugh that has nothing to it, only a cold metallic resonance. He granted her wish and tore the flesh from her throat under his nails. He went wild: he tore her dress up, he beat his callous fists into her face and her body, he ripped into her chest with his frightful knife.

Her broken mind found it somehow beautiful. The blood pumping from her wounds freely, easily. It was a marvelous high that kept her from her dark thoughts. There was nothing but that mind-numbing red. She smiled, but no…the angel’s creators would not let such a petty mortal thing as blood loss destroy her. She groaned as the wounds began to seal, but at least that pain stayed behind. Pain has such a residual beauty. “Kill me…” She pleaded again, her bruised face took on a childish pout. “ Stop trying in vain to hurt me.” She curled into herself as Volle Monde knelt beside her. “ Please, master…” The tears snuck up on her. They fell from her eyes in abundance, a stinging pain on her cheeks from their heat.

“ Worthless girl, stop asking for that. I will not give it to you.” He once more took her bloody and bruised remains of lips with his. His disregard for her pain or opinion allowed him to tear her up again. The blood spilled from the cracks between their lips. She gave up then. Let him have what he wants. I’m good for nothing else, but to serve others. Why not serve this wicked man? She lay limp on the ground with warm, wet tears falling down her ragged face. He parted from her, left her hollow, mournful form on the ground. “You are not worth my love.” He told her snidely. She smiled at him in reply.

“No, master, I am not worth your love. So, don’t give it to me. Give me Caliga’s love. Give me death. Let Caliga take me away.” She whimpered helplessly under his dark, tormenting presence. Miserable sobs wracked her livid body as she knew what his answer would be.

“Never, child. I will own you until rapture and I will keep giving you my forgiving love.” He stared down at her, his black eyes mocking her feeling, the fact that she really felt as if she were nothing. She saw it in his eyes: how proud he was of the damage he inflicted on her, that he could touch or beat her without opposition, that she wished for death. Yes… she saw his sense of accomplishment. She saw the sadistic pleasure that he took wrapping her up in his hateful lies and his proud arms.

She saw it everyday in her master’s eyes.