She’ll be home soon. I hope. Fucked up to say it, but I do. I’m powerless.
Nothing else to do in this cramped, claustrophobic hellhole she’s confined me to, but wait for her.
I met her at Chains. Maybe a few months back. It was January then, not exactly sure when it is now. The only calendar I keep’s the countdown of Days to when she promises she’ll ‘fix me’.
She was alone. I found her attractive, physically. At least I did then. I approached her. She’s always rubbed that in my face, like it justifies everything.
She seemed out of place. Slick, short, smart blonde hair. Sharp, elegant glasses. Clean. Professional. I introduced myself as Jayne, she returned Jade. It was a conversation kicker. My stomach churns thinking about how differently I felt towards her then, how optimistic.
She said she was some unpronounceable thing or other, before simplifying, ‘Scientist’. I shot back she looked like one, that I found her being there something of an anomaly - my best sciency sweet-talk. Smooth. I wish I’d been knocked back, but instead she brushed her hair-tips aside, exposing the heart and horseshoe tattoo upon her neck.
“I’m also a witch!”
I’ll never forget her twisted smile as she explained that the heart symbolised her love of the Arcane, while the horseshoe was to keep the Devil at bay. I found it so sexy, so dangerous, so mysterious. Especially the strange juxtaposition of her crafts. I was a fool.
She IS the fucking Devil!
I found out soon after she got me home. Her invitation. Her place. My body started throbbing. She was chanting something strange. Didn’t stop until my head hit what was an unusually high ceiling. From the safety of a sideroom, she explained what she’d done to me - or rather, what it meant for me.
‘Sciencecraft’ she called it. I don’t even know if she was joking or deluded. I don’t know if she slipped something in my drink or what. I don’t know what to believe. I sleep, I get tired, but I don’t need to eat or drink, I don’t need the toilet. I almost wish I did! That’d fucking teach her! Or maybe not. She’s sick.
It seems impossible. “Even if you got free, nobody can fix you. Noone but me!” She was so fucking smug about it. I could crush her so easily. Don’t think I haven’t thought about it; breaking her fucking arm or torturing her or something. But I need her, and she knows it. If I hurt her, I’d pay the ‘Price’. She made that clear from the outset.
The Price is in Days. That’s my living currency. Days until she ‘fixes me’. The lower the better. I’m 7 rich right now. The lowest I’ve ever been. That’s why a fucked up part of me wants her back. Maybe I can score some strikes so I can get over the line.
Do I even believe her? I have no choice.
I let her groom me and use me as she pleases. Black nails. Eyeliner. This long hair; non-trivial in my position. But what does any of that matter, when my body’s nothing but a giant fucktoy. The stuff she makes me do with her, to her...
The worst part is, I don’t know if it’s because I’ve nothing else to do, or if it’s Stockholm Syndrome or what, but I actually half-feel as though I enjoy some of it. I hate her though. I hold on to that. I fucking despise her! She makes me sick. I just do what I can to endure the weird shit she puts me through. And there’s some weird ass fucking shit.
I don’t even wanna think about most of it, but even the most basic things are such an indignity.
I can’t clean myself. I’ve no way of doing it. She relishes that. She won’t wash me unless I ask her. I wouldn’t. Protested. Went a week without. Stunk up the whole fucking house. She loved it. Her words, “the man-musk’s such a turn on!”. Fuck she’s such a creep. That was even worse! Besides, I couldn’t live like that any longer, so now I ask her, and she makes out like I’ve consented; like I want her nasty hands all over my body molesting me.
I don’t. I do fucking not! Urghhh…
The latch! There she is now. Finally.
“Honey I’m hoooome!”
Everytime. Every fucking time that shrill shriek makes me shiver, and yet I smile her way. Just like I’ve been told, masking my resentment as she struts over, dropping her shopping bags to scar my cheek first with her icy fingers, then her glacial lips.
“I’ve got a surprise for you! But if you want to know what it is...”
I really couldn’t care less, but I give her the counterfeit kiss she’s gesturing for, full on her face, with all the animation of an adoring and mutual exchange, but none of the animus. It’s painfully longer than usual that she makes me persist in the sickening charade, before the dubious mercy of her palms pushing against my bottom lip finally releases me from the odious obligation. I recoil from the spell, licking my lips in what I can disguise as delight, but is really nothing more than a reflex to wipe away the taint of her poison.
The witch smiles up at me, crooked as ever. I see it for what it is now.
“Mmmmmm that was perfect! That seals it. Today’s your lucky day. Your Days are up! I’ve got what I need to fix you, just like I promised!”
She mutters something beneath her breath, an incantation like the whispers of demons.
I could swear for a moment there’s an actual fire gathering in her eyes that reflects off her lenses, but it suddenly cools as her smile almost seems to turn plain, natural, human.
Is she deceiving me again, or is this actually it? Has she finally had her fucking fun? Can she actually turn me back? There’s a hope and unwilling gratitude that I try to keep from welling up in my aching chest. My constricting chest? That throbbing! I remember it.
It’s happening already.
It hurts. My resentment returns as I dwindle, suddenly remembering everything she’s put me through for so long, everything she’s kept me from. My life. My friends, my family! And she has the nerve to just stand there watching, like I should be grateful! So unerringly calm, serene, somehow so certain I won’t lash out at her. She knows I’m not that brash.
But, after a few bitter and burning moments, I am myself once more, instead of a monster in mundane cage.
Fuck hanging around now! Naked or not, I’m straight for the door. As it cracks open, daylight. Fresh air. Freedom!
The door slams shut. Jade’s palm upon it.
“Leaving so soon?”
Why’s she even doing this? It’s finally over, but the bitch can’t just let it go. I yank at the door again, but her foot’s jarring it. I should be able to shift her but she’s stronger than she looks, barely budging. Even shoots me a psychopout.
“Awwwww...not even a goodbye kiss?”
The fuck? Just listen to her! I’ve had enough of this shit!
“Get out of my fucking way!”
I’m frenzied now, I shove into her with my shoulder, but again she doesn’t budge. I yank at the door, putting all my weight into it. Again, she doesn’t fucking budge. She just fucking stands there with that smirk, smiling down at me...down at me?
I feel my eyes stretch wide as my frenzy turns to panic, and my panic to purest hatred, every ounce of which I channel into a furious right hook aimed straight for the bitch’s face. But she catches it cold, then the same with my left, both my fists now in the tight grip of her bony palms.
She uses that grip to push me down, or it feels that way, before she flips me around and slams me against the door.
My head takes a knock. Dazed for a minute, I feel my arms lifted up above me, pinned down beneath far too large hands. I try to lash with my legs, my knee, but my hip’s fixed too by hers, again, far too large. I can’t move. I’ve only words now.
“This is what you fucking meant isn’t it you sick bitch...You sick fucki-!”
Her lips come down for me again, silence my rage, though they only inflame it as they feed me her hideous laughter, forcing it down my throat. I strain and struggle with every fibre of my being, but I can’t so much as bite, even my mouth is pinned as her laughter subsides into a gloating purr, and I’m shamefully forced to refocus. That poison. I wasn’t imagining it. I can taste it now, bitter and sharp.
And her lips are huge, monstrous. I feel my arms raised up together, my wrists taken easily by one of her hands as the bitch raises me off the floor and backs away. I breathe hard, spitting and choking in disgust as I hang against the door. High, dazed, delirious as I sense those sinister susurrations stir the air again. I can make them out this time.
“Blood to Water,
Water to Wine,
A Final Kiss,
And you’ll be Mine”
I hate her. I fucking LOATHE her! I should’ve killed her when I had the chance, torn her to fucking pieces!
But now there’s nothing I can do as her lips overwhelm me once more, bigger than ever, the noxiousness taking over my nose and mouth, my lungs full of corrupted vapours as pain racks my entire body and that terrible tingling intensifies until...
The feel of that same shitty floor on my face. I’m in her fucking house again. Still trapped. Back to square fucking one.
I suppose I should be relieved, but I wish this whole thing were a nightmare. Except something’s not right. The wallpaper, the doors, the furniture…bouncing...
Wait, what the fuck is that in the window?
“FINALLY AWAKE HUH?”
No...no fucking way! The ceiling...the ceiling’s fucking lifting up!!
That bitch. That sick, crazy fucking bitch!
“WELL JAYNE, HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR SURPRISE?”