Status: :3 It's over. Done. Completed.
Fragility at its Finest
through thick and thin, he wouldn't be let in;
“What about now?”
His quiet threats, followed by a sadistic smirk curling on her lips caused a chill to run up her spine. One arm sprawled across her waist, holding her down as he used his other hand to keep the silver blade at her neck. His muscular body pinned her against the brick wall, and while she should've been frightened, she couldn't find it in herself to show it. Of course she was petrifyed—his lack of empathic feelings caused by his psychopathy assured her that one wrong move would cost her the chance to continue her life and he would feel not even an ounce of regret. If anything, a perverse victory would be the closest to emotion as he'd get.
Yet, as they basked in the moonlight, the only luminescent thing around her, she couldn't help but narrow her eyes. She couldn't let him intimidate her, not after all she'd been through.
“No.”
Her firm answer caused the pressure to increase and the blade to glide to her neck, the tip lightly caressing her ivory skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its tracks. He didn't want to ruin her milky flesh by having crimson speckles taint the beautiful sight, but she wasn't complying and she was making him angry.
“Want to change that answer, sweetheart?”
His voice was low and husky, laced in anger and lust. He was going to get what he wanted from her or she'd be left to bleed. He didn't care about whether she was submissive or not—either she succumbed to him or she would become another bloody piece of meat thrown carelessly to the side of the road.
“No, I wouldn't, honey,” she hissed.
That was the last straw for him. He wasn't going to be mocked, not while he had control over her. The thought of what would happen next was enough to summon a twisted smirk of triumph onto his features.
“Well, love, I suppose this is the end of you,” he murmured.
It was a shame, seeing as she truly was a one-of-a-kind gem. Beautiful inside and out, courage poured from her soul, spilling onto him. Yet he felt nothing but euphoria as his knife made thin little ruby tree branches on her icy pallid flesh. As she continued to whimper in pain upon the realization that he wasn't going to directly go for the kill (despite how much he wanted to) but rather, torture her until her blood dyed the concrete a dark red, then leave her stranded, left to bleed to death in silence.
“Goodnight. Maybe you should've listened to me.”
The only thing that could be heard were the light brush strokes of the sharp object, which soon turned into violent slashes. She had been a pawn in his game, after all, but his cowardice made her the victor, and him the last one standing. Bloodshed meant nothing; in fact, he drowned in it wholeheartedly. She was naïvely at his will, even through her suspicion.
This was fragility at its finest to him.
His quiet threats, followed by a sadistic smirk curling on her lips caused a chill to run up her spine. One arm sprawled across her waist, holding her down as he used his other hand to keep the silver blade at her neck. His muscular body pinned her against the brick wall, and while she should've been frightened, she couldn't find it in herself to show it. Of course she was petrifyed—his lack of empathic feelings caused by his psychopathy assured her that one wrong move would cost her the chance to continue her life and he would feel not even an ounce of regret. If anything, a perverse victory would be the closest to emotion as he'd get.
Yet, as they basked in the moonlight, the only luminescent thing around her, she couldn't help but narrow her eyes. She couldn't let him intimidate her, not after all she'd been through.
“No.”
Her firm answer caused the pressure to increase and the blade to glide to her neck, the tip lightly caressing her ivory skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its tracks. He didn't want to ruin her milky flesh by having crimson speckles taint the beautiful sight, but she wasn't complying and she was making him angry.
“Want to change that answer, sweetheart?”
His voice was low and husky, laced in anger and lust. He was going to get what he wanted from her or she'd be left to bleed. He didn't care about whether she was submissive or not—either she succumbed to him or she would become another bloody piece of meat thrown carelessly to the side of the road.
“No, I wouldn't, honey,” she hissed.
That was the last straw for him. He wasn't going to be mocked, not while he had control over her. The thought of what would happen next was enough to summon a twisted smirk of triumph onto his features.
“Well, love, I suppose this is the end of you,” he murmured.
It was a shame, seeing as she truly was a one-of-a-kind gem. Beautiful inside and out, courage poured from her soul, spilling onto him. Yet he felt nothing but euphoria as his knife made thin little ruby tree branches on her icy pallid flesh. As she continued to whimper in pain upon the realization that he wasn't going to directly go for the kill (despite how much he wanted to) but rather, torture her until her blood dyed the concrete a dark red, then leave her stranded, left to bleed to death in silence.
“Goodnight. Maybe you should've listened to me.”
The only thing that could be heard were the light brush strokes of the sharp object, which soon turned into violent slashes. She had been a pawn in his game, after all, but his cowardice made her the victor, and him the last one standing. Bloodshed meant nothing; in fact, he drowned in it wholeheartedly. She was naïvely at his will, even through her suspicion.
This was fragility at its finest to him.
♠ ♠ ♠
Well...I'm officially disturbed now. I can't believe I actually wrote this. I write a lot of weird things on occasion, but never something this odd. Yeah, well, this author's note is going to be short now.Comment?