Post by Dollface on Jun 6, 2016 21:59:58 GMT -5
The mocking echoes from the mix of eight individual voices. It soon becomes more of a ritualized chant coupled with bursts of maniacal laughter. Seromine sensing the point was made, silences the proceeding and returns his focus on the frightened former multi-title holder. His hands firmly grasp the edges of the coffin with the ferocity of a predatory birds talons. The one lifeless white found in the masked eyes now raged with red-orange from the candles glow, giving the Owl masked a further pronounced satanic look. He then slowly lowers his head to the human prey.
“What you have DONE is FAIL to COMMUNICATE. Your existence. Your UNION with the magician is of little significance to us. We have our orders after all. Take solace, Kelli, in the fact this will be over soon. His however, will be prolonged until it has been deemed time to bury him on top of your bones!”
Kelli’s flush deepens, frustration powering aside fear as her volatile moods shift again.
“Who the fuck ARE you!? Why do you even CARE about my existence!? I’m a fucking pro wrestler with a failing pharmaceutical company under my name, like really, what the fuck do you WANT?!”
“WE are his instruments of death. Agents of chaos. Your existence is of great agitation to us and will end like the world humanity lives in. And so will Balance. That’s what we WANT. To watch your whole. World. BURN!! OUR hands shall light that fire, and he will reap the reward.”
Seromine motions once more to the group, this time two of them grab Kelli’s hands.
“You want to know who I am?!”
Those words are roared with venom behind it. Kelli wasn’t the only one in the room with volatile emotions. Seromine reaches up and lifts the mask back to show his identity to her. His pentagram contact lenses only adds to the death stare produced at the obscenely colorful victim.
“I’m no stranger to these parts. Nail her to her tomb and stitch her mouth shut. Our task is done tonight.”
The tension in her muscles raises to a tremble as the lid moves over her face, the nightmare animals tittering quietly. Squinting her eyes shut as hard as she can, Kelli keeps them closed even as she hears the heavy scrape of the lid, the air pressure shifting as the dismayingly tight seal locks into place.
My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed.
“Kelli?” “Dolly?” “Starrface?”
The trio of voices speak at once, Kelli remaining silent as she twisted her wrists this way and that, all the while continuing her mantra.
My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed.
“Miss? You know you can’t get out, right?”
The tiny voice wheedles into the coffin, directly into Kelli’s brain, her light breathing coming out in strained pants.
My eyes are just closed. nO tHeY aReN’TTTTT! My eyes are just closed. lYiNg 2 UrSeLf! My eyes are just closed. L0L hE g0t u!
A strangled whimper gurgles from her throat, tears streaming freely down her face as she shakes.
“Please. Let me out. I’m sorry. Please let me out. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry, please Daddy, I won’t do it again. I won’t tell anyone. Please just let me out.”
High pitched squeaks force themselves past the lump in her throat and her teeth locked in a rictus of terror, nightmare sequences playing through her mind. Dragged again back to a small child’s violated body, burning and bleeding from the inside, tiny terrified noises in her ears with her heart pounding in her chest as Daddy’s steamer trunk seems to close around her.
“There is no out, Kelli. There is only under.”
The coffin shifts, rocking back and forth and lifted unsteadily, Kelli’s body mashed against the sides and the - top?
Top. Top. I feel that. Those are boobs. Those are MY TITS. I AM NOT A CHILD.
Her heart slows just a fraction, her brain gaining traction on the idea that she was no longer a helpless youth.
I AM NOT A CHILD, I AM NOT EVEN FUCKING HUMAN ANYMORE.
The coffin’s shuffling pace halts, a grunt forced from her lungs as it’s dropped on a hard, flat surface. Scufflings outside. Scrapings, the sound of metal against metal.
I can get out of here. I can teleport. What was it, equivalent exchange, right? That’s how it worked in Fullmetal Alchemist - equivalent exchange means something has to come here.
“Do we open it first?” The voice confused, the tapping of metal against the wooden lid chilling her blood.
Candy, candy works. How the fuck do I get candy in here? Wish it here? BUT NOT WITH ME IN HERE COZ I’D DIE.
“How can we cut her if we don’t open it?” Eager, a smile in the high pitched voice.
Candy. Teleport out, then candy. That’ll work. Equivalent exchange except I’m not going to try to turn anyone into a suit of armor.
“He didn’t tell us to cut her.” Still confused.
Nope. I’m gonna nope out now. Nope. Is that my safe word? Ready set NOPE! Fuck. Still here.
An eerie giggle. “He didn’t tell us NOT to.”
Oh fuck no get me the fuck out of here I can fucking teleport oh my sweet jesus h tapdancing disco pants christ GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!
A feeling like a punch to the gut, forcing the breath from her in the sudden jolt of reality dropping out from under her, a dizzying whirl as her consciousness finds itself flipped upside down and back around - coming to face down?
Squinting her eyes shut she puts her now freed hands in front of her face to push off - and is rewarded by the prickling tickle of fresh blades of grass! A gasp tears itself from her throat as the tickle turns to pain, jumping to her feet and feeling tiny lacerations bleeding all over her body!
“KELLI!”
That voice. Breaking through the thunderstorm brewing overhead, violet and lime clouds with jagged pink forks of lightning, that voice was the clarion call of hope.
Kelli turns around, terrified, helpless, bleeding, as N. Saniti leaps over the small brook dividing them and comes to her aid.
“What are you doing here? You’re HURT, please, allow me to help you, I cannot IMAGINE what you’re doing here I just…”
Lifting a trembling hand to his face, her lips curve in a weak smile of relief, senseless of the jagged streaks of blood her palm was leaving against his hollowed cheek. “Thank you.”
N. Saniti continues to prattle on, whipping out a seemingly endless series of handkerchiefs from a top pocket dispenser as he blots away the blood from the blades of grass.
“Not that I mind you being here - but why are you -”
Kelli bursts into tears, a horrified N. Saniti holding her close as great, shuddering sobs wrack her feminine frame. The thrill of gratification at her touch paling in comparison to the tug on his heart at her sadness - and the pure, deadly rage as she tells him of what happened.
“Nathan has not trained you much, has he?”
“He hasn’t trained me at all. I don’t know how I got here.”
“Need. Fear, mostly, which is why…” a sadness clouds his eyes, a wistful sort of tarnished hope in his gaze as he regards the pink haired beauty. “...which is why you were here for me to save, instead of with Nathan this time.”
N. Saniti whips out a newspaper, dismissing his other self. “I’ll tell HIM what I think of you being in this position, have no doubts about that, my lovely. Let’s see who you’re up against for Trauma though, shall we?”
“Living a Legacy 8. I was just there. Now I’m here. There’s no way you know this…”
“Oh, no, it’s just next week’s issue.”
“How did you - “
“Says here you’re against a St. Jury. A man of God, eh? Shouldn’t be hard to tear down.”
“You remember him. Or the other you does. Or - I - you?”
N. smiles, an uncharacteristically warm expression. “We are the same man, Kelli. The tenderness you feel towards one is the same as towards the other, even for more intimate pursuits we share the same body that -” his jaw drops, aghast. “I’m so sorry, I never MEANT to imply that you would just - that you’re a simple - that you would - “
She grins, kissing him on the cheek with pure, unadulterated gratitude. “It’s alright. Please - St. Jury? It’ll be fine. We’ve done it before, I’ve won before, it’ll be fine…”
N. Saniti watches her, concerned. “You are not quite yourself yet, my dear, you need training in these new abilities, you need to become safe in your own skin, you need -”
She shifts a bit closer, leaning her head on his chest as a trusting child might.
“Win or lose, I know he’s not trying to actually kill me. Right now all I need is to rest.” Her eyes begin to close again, exhaustion plain in her face, his arm wrapping around her as if he cannot believe his good fortune.
“I just need to rest.”
“What you have DONE is FAIL to COMMUNICATE. Your existence. Your UNION with the magician is of little significance to us. We have our orders after all. Take solace, Kelli, in the fact this will be over soon. His however, will be prolonged until it has been deemed time to bury him on top of your bones!”
Kelli’s flush deepens, frustration powering aside fear as her volatile moods shift again.
“Who the fuck ARE you!? Why do you even CARE about my existence!? I’m a fucking pro wrestler with a failing pharmaceutical company under my name, like really, what the fuck do you WANT?!”
“WE are his instruments of death. Agents of chaos. Your existence is of great agitation to us and will end like the world humanity lives in. And so will Balance. That’s what we WANT. To watch your whole. World. BURN!! OUR hands shall light that fire, and he will reap the reward.”
Seromine motions once more to the group, this time two of them grab Kelli’s hands.
“You want to know who I am?!”
Those words are roared with venom behind it. Kelli wasn’t the only one in the room with volatile emotions. Seromine reaches up and lifts the mask back to show his identity to her. His pentagram contact lenses only adds to the death stare produced at the obscenely colorful victim.
“I’m no stranger to these parts. Nail her to her tomb and stitch her mouth shut. Our task is done tonight.”
The tension in her muscles raises to a tremble as the lid moves over her face, the nightmare animals tittering quietly. Squinting her eyes shut as hard as she can, Kelli keeps them closed even as she hears the heavy scrape of the lid, the air pressure shifting as the dismayingly tight seal locks into place.
My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed.
*nok nok nok*
“Kelli?” “Dolly?” “Starrface?”
The trio of voices speak at once, Kelli remaining silent as she twisted her wrists this way and that, all the while continuing her mantra.
My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed. My eyes are just closed.
*nok nok nok*
“Miss? You know you can’t get out, right?”
The tiny voice wheedles into the coffin, directly into Kelli’s brain, her light breathing coming out in strained pants.
My eyes are just closed. nO tHeY aReN’TTTTT! My eyes are just closed. lYiNg 2 UrSeLf! My eyes are just closed. L0L hE g0t u!
*KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.*
A strangled whimper gurgles from her throat, tears streaming freely down her face as she shakes.
“Please. Let me out. I’m sorry. Please let me out. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry, please Daddy, I won’t do it again. I won’t tell anyone. Please just let me out.”
High pitched squeaks force themselves past the lump in her throat and her teeth locked in a rictus of terror, nightmare sequences playing through her mind. Dragged again back to a small child’s violated body, burning and bleeding from the inside, tiny terrified noises in her ears with her heart pounding in her chest as Daddy’s steamer trunk seems to close around her.
“There is no out, Kelli. There is only under.”
The coffin shifts, rocking back and forth and lifted unsteadily, Kelli’s body mashed against the sides and the - top?
Top. Top. I feel that. Those are boobs. Those are MY TITS. I AM NOT A CHILD.
Her heart slows just a fraction, her brain gaining traction on the idea that she was no longer a helpless youth.
I AM NOT A CHILD, I AM NOT EVEN FUCKING HUMAN ANYMORE.
The coffin’s shuffling pace halts, a grunt forced from her lungs as it’s dropped on a hard, flat surface. Scufflings outside. Scrapings, the sound of metal against metal.
I can get out of here. I can teleport. What was it, equivalent exchange, right? That’s how it worked in Fullmetal Alchemist - equivalent exchange means something has to come here.
“Do we open it first?” The voice confused, the tapping of metal against the wooden lid chilling her blood.
Candy, candy works. How the fuck do I get candy in here? Wish it here? BUT NOT WITH ME IN HERE COZ I’D DIE.
“How can we cut her if we don’t open it?” Eager, a smile in the high pitched voice.
Candy. Teleport out, then candy. That’ll work. Equivalent exchange except I’m not going to try to turn anyone into a suit of armor.
“He didn’t tell us to cut her.” Still confused.
Nope. I’m gonna nope out now. Nope. Is that my safe word? Ready set NOPE! Fuck. Still here.
An eerie giggle. “He didn’t tell us NOT to.”
Oh fuck no get me the fuck out of here I can fucking teleport oh my sweet jesus h tapdancing disco pants christ GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!
A feeling like a punch to the gut, forcing the breath from her in the sudden jolt of reality dropping out from under her, a dizzying whirl as her consciousness finds itself flipped upside down and back around - coming to face down?
Squinting her eyes shut she puts her now freed hands in front of her face to push off - and is rewarded by the prickling tickle of fresh blades of grass! A gasp tears itself from her throat as the tickle turns to pain, jumping to her feet and feeling tiny lacerations bleeding all over her body!
“KELLI!”
That voice. Breaking through the thunderstorm brewing overhead, violet and lime clouds with jagged pink forks of lightning, that voice was the clarion call of hope.
Kelli turns around, terrified, helpless, bleeding, as N. Saniti leaps over the small brook dividing them and comes to her aid.
“What are you doing here? You’re HURT, please, allow me to help you, I cannot IMAGINE what you’re doing here I just…”
Lifting a trembling hand to his face, her lips curve in a weak smile of relief, senseless of the jagged streaks of blood her palm was leaving against his hollowed cheek. “Thank you.”
N. Saniti continues to prattle on, whipping out a seemingly endless series of handkerchiefs from a top pocket dispenser as he blots away the blood from the blades of grass.
“Not that I mind you being here - but why are you -”
Kelli bursts into tears, a horrified N. Saniti holding her close as great, shuddering sobs wrack her feminine frame. The thrill of gratification at her touch paling in comparison to the tug on his heart at her sadness - and the pure, deadly rage as she tells him of what happened.
“Nathan has not trained you much, has he?”
“He hasn’t trained me at all. I don’t know how I got here.”
“Need. Fear, mostly, which is why…” a sadness clouds his eyes, a wistful sort of tarnished hope in his gaze as he regards the pink haired beauty. “...which is why you were here for me to save, instead of with Nathan this time.”
N. Saniti whips out a newspaper, dismissing his other self. “I’ll tell HIM what I think of you being in this position, have no doubts about that, my lovely. Let’s see who you’re up against for Trauma though, shall we?”
“Living a Legacy 8. I was just there. Now I’m here. There’s no way you know this…”
“Oh, no, it’s just next week’s issue.”
“How did you - “
“Says here you’re against a St. Jury. A man of God, eh? Shouldn’t be hard to tear down.”
“You remember him. Or the other you does. Or - I - you?”
N. smiles, an uncharacteristically warm expression. “We are the same man, Kelli. The tenderness you feel towards one is the same as towards the other, even for more intimate pursuits we share the same body that -” his jaw drops, aghast. “I’m so sorry, I never MEANT to imply that you would just - that you’re a simple - that you would - “
She grins, kissing him on the cheek with pure, unadulterated gratitude. “It’s alright. Please - St. Jury? It’ll be fine. We’ve done it before, I’ve won before, it’ll be fine…”
N. Saniti watches her, concerned. “You are not quite yourself yet, my dear, you need training in these new abilities, you need to become safe in your own skin, you need -”
She shifts a bit closer, leaning her head on his chest as a trusting child might.
“Win or lose, I know he’s not trying to actually kill me. Right now all I need is to rest.” Her eyes begin to close again, exhaustion plain in her face, his arm wrapping around her as if he cannot believe his good fortune.
“I just need to rest.”
