Status: comments, please? i don't care if you love or hate it, just give me something.
Treason in the Highest Degree
La maîtresse du diable
I blink up at him, before I recognize the voice.
“So soon, street rat?” I spit at him. He laughs at me.
“Call me irresistible.”
“Funny, not the name I had in mind.” I’m trying to not act afraid, but my shaking voice betrays me.
“Oh, by all means, speak your mind. There’s no one down here for you to impress with lady-like ways.”
I feel my face grow hot, and try to find some sort of painful retort, when I feel the warm blood on my back. I look down and notice the sides of my dress are soaked through. He frowns down at the crimson stain before speaking. “Grimaldo, was it really necessary?”
My capturer shifts his feet awkwardly. “Di’n’ do it on purpose... the girl pra’tic’lly threw herself onto the knife...”
Chris’ attention shifts back to me, but now he’s just studying my face, not really looking. “We’ll not be harming this one, Grimaldo. She’s...” he smiles eerily “special.” For the first time I notice that in his eyes, among the dancing shades of green there’s a spark of insanity. My breathing becomes soft like that of a person near death by drowning. Grimaldo’s silhouette shrugs.
“Suit yerself, Mister Cristovano.”
His eyes linger over my face for a few more seconds before he delicately gets up. Grabbing my upper arm, he lifts me to my feet, but still holds onto me once I’m standing. “We must go, and quickly. She needs bandaging before she suffers from too much blood loss.” He looks at me. “You can walk?” It’s a question and a statement, better phrased as “You will walk” and so I straighten my back against the pain and step into the devil’s hollow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ow!” I snipe to myself.
“Hold still!” he snaps back. Chris’ hands run down the gauze as he ties it into neat little knots running down my spine. I clutch at the front of my dress, my face growing red from embarrassment.
“Would you hurry?” I moan.
“Would you stop bleeding?” he mimics me. I feel his hands release the gauze and a shiver runs through my back. He carefully re-laces the ribbons on the back of my dress, tying them into a perfect bow at the nape of my neck. I know he’s finished, but he doesn’t move.
“Thanks...” I mutter shifting away. He doesn’t respond. I turn around and practically bump into him he’s so close. His eyes stare straight through me. He doesn’t move, and I’m not entirely convinced he’s breathing. I open my mouth to speak, but his hand slides down my neck, playing with my hair. My mouth goes dry, and as he leans in I realize what he’s about to do. The ice cold room grows hot... too hot... As if on instinct, I kick him, hard and sudden. He curses, holding his injured leg as I stand arms crossed, indignant and offended.
“What was that for?!” He’s bent over in pain, looking up at me through his long bangs.
I shrug. “Like you said, no need to be a lady.” I narrow my eyes. “Mark my words, there is NO ONE down here I’m trying to impress”
He laughs, straightening up. “You’re a fighter, eh?”
I stare into his eyes coldly, “I’m a decent human being.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Not all of us.”
He leans back, pleased. I see the insanity flitter behind his eyes again, and a chill creeps through me. He begins to leave the room. “It’s okay.” He turns. “I like a challenge.”
My face grows hot “You arrogant brat! I-“
He turns sharply. “Oh don’t try to impress me with big words. I’ll have no respect for you. Prove to me that you’re different, that I’m not a fool for keeping you alive.” His tone grows softer, yet keeps it’s sarcastic edge. “Show me you’re not just another devil’s mistress.” With that, he leaves the room and me, taking the lantern with him. The darkness begins to creep out from its hiding places. I only pause for a moment before following.
“So soon, street rat?” I spit at him. He laughs at me.
“Call me irresistible.”
“Funny, not the name I had in mind.” I’m trying to not act afraid, but my shaking voice betrays me.
“Oh, by all means, speak your mind. There’s no one down here for you to impress with lady-like ways.”
I feel my face grow hot, and try to find some sort of painful retort, when I feel the warm blood on my back. I look down and notice the sides of my dress are soaked through. He frowns down at the crimson stain before speaking. “Grimaldo, was it really necessary?”
My capturer shifts his feet awkwardly. “Di’n’ do it on purpose... the girl pra’tic’lly threw herself onto the knife...”
Chris’ attention shifts back to me, but now he’s just studying my face, not really looking. “We’ll not be harming this one, Grimaldo. She’s...” he smiles eerily “special.” For the first time I notice that in his eyes, among the dancing shades of green there’s a spark of insanity. My breathing becomes soft like that of a person near death by drowning. Grimaldo’s silhouette shrugs.
“Suit yerself, Mister Cristovano.”
His eyes linger over my face for a few more seconds before he delicately gets up. Grabbing my upper arm, he lifts me to my feet, but still holds onto me once I’m standing. “We must go, and quickly. She needs bandaging before she suffers from too much blood loss.” He looks at me. “You can walk?” It’s a question and a statement, better phrased as “You will walk” and so I straighten my back against the pain and step into the devil’s hollow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ow!” I snipe to myself.
“Hold still!” he snaps back. Chris’ hands run down the gauze as he ties it into neat little knots running down my spine. I clutch at the front of my dress, my face growing red from embarrassment.
“Would you hurry?” I moan.
“Would you stop bleeding?” he mimics me. I feel his hands release the gauze and a shiver runs through my back. He carefully re-laces the ribbons on the back of my dress, tying them into a perfect bow at the nape of my neck. I know he’s finished, but he doesn’t move.
“Thanks...” I mutter shifting away. He doesn’t respond. I turn around and practically bump into him he’s so close. His eyes stare straight through me. He doesn’t move, and I’m not entirely convinced he’s breathing. I open my mouth to speak, but his hand slides down my neck, playing with my hair. My mouth goes dry, and as he leans in I realize what he’s about to do. The ice cold room grows hot... too hot... As if on instinct, I kick him, hard and sudden. He curses, holding his injured leg as I stand arms crossed, indignant and offended.
“What was that for?!” He’s bent over in pain, looking up at me through his long bangs.
I shrug. “Like you said, no need to be a lady.” I narrow my eyes. “Mark my words, there is NO ONE down here I’m trying to impress”
He laughs, straightening up. “You’re a fighter, eh?”
I stare into his eyes coldly, “I’m a decent human being.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Not all of us.”
He leans back, pleased. I see the insanity flitter behind his eyes again, and a chill creeps through me. He begins to leave the room. “It’s okay.” He turns. “I like a challenge.”
My face grows hot “You arrogant brat! I-“
He turns sharply. “Oh don’t try to impress me with big words. I’ll have no respect for you. Prove to me that you’re different, that I’m not a fool for keeping you alive.” His tone grows softer, yet keeps it’s sarcastic edge. “Show me you’re not just another devil’s mistress.” With that, he leaves the room and me, taking the lantern with him. The darkness begins to creep out from its hiding places. I only pause for a moment before following.