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Tortures of Being Evil
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He stood there watching her as she slept. Such a peace granted to so frail a human, and his thoughts were bitter. That such a weak person could attain such seeming nirvana, while he, so very strong, lived in turmoil from day to day, or more aptly from night to night. His hate raged so, and that brought on their suffering. Once he was as them, blind and believing in their God. But now he knew the painful truth, and that was unsettling to him at times. He had once been favored for his faith in their God, but that all changed. With his new God and new faith came eternal suffering. Though with his will to survive, he learned to cope.

From that coping came nights such as these. Perhaps it was his own personal way of begging them for the help he wanted, but denied himself for the want of survival. Nor, even if he outright asked for the help, did he expect them to give it, but one such as him could hope, no? It was not unlike the sun chasing the moon for eternity in the way that he did what he did in seeking help and how they all ended up dying before they could understand him. None understood him, but he still hoped. For what, he didn?t know any more, but still he did.

Slowly she awoke, golden hair splashed across her pillow like silk, her pale blue eyes trying to recall where she was. Slowly the memories came to her mind, and with each remembered part, her already fair skin lost a bit of it?s coloring. And when he thought that she would become unconscious again, instead she screamed aloud, a sound filled with angry and agony, helplessness and desperation all at once. Such a scream held so much pain, and it did indeed make his heart ache for her. Not with regret or pity, but rather with a lust darker than the blood that flowed through his veins and his dark heart.

The scream echoed off the stones of the walls of his room and reverberated within his ears and sank deep within his mind. He was glad that the room was far from any other inhabitant of this castle and the stones of his wall thick so that this night would go undisturbed. And as he broke from his train of thought, he studied her as she lay there, helpless against his every whim and want. The lust within him boiled up to a delirium within him, and he made his way over to where she rested on the bed.

She was held spread eagle by harsh iron manacles fitted purposefully with an abrasive on the inside so that it grated against her skin if she caused too much commotion. How she had managed to sleep so peacefully he knew not, but again he envied her. To achieve such peace in the face of the dark danger that he was, that was a gift and a strength of this weak girl. How she had slept through the pain, he knew not, but he wondered what was going through her mind. Such things he?d never know, but he could be forever curious.

Her left breast lacked what any other in the world did; a nipple from which a babe might feed. He had removed it, which had caused the fainting and the peaceful sleeping he had watched her during. The wound bled not now, though, for that would bring death and end the suffering he planned to inflict all too early. So he had healed that wound with his powers. He straddled her and looked down at her frail body, and studied the innocence within her eyes.

Oh by the various Gods of this dark world, he was tired, and couldn?t bring himself to continue with this tonight. He would regret that decision later, for the coming actions would destroy another shred of hope that he?d ever be helped from his damned state. And so he set into her neck with his all too sharp fangs, feeding on her heart?s blood so that this night wasn?t a complete waste. Once she was drained, he threw himself from her and the bed so that he could dress. He did so quickly, and rushed from the room, overcome and needing to get away from the peaceful mask of death on her face.



::December 22, 2002 10:00 AM

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