the split in her lip STINGS like hell – but she’d die before letting that show. what was harder to pretend didn’t ache was the blue-black bruises that dappled her flesh from her jaw down. the lord of the dreadfort himself had commanded that asha was to keep all her skin, && so she had. but he was lax, it would appear, on the STATE of the skin that remained to her. some of the marks were ringed in yellowish green, fading, but there would be more to replace them soon enough.
it didn’t matter. she was alive still, && the BASTARD was having a hard time breaking her without his flaying knife. it had come close once or twice, the razor-sharp steel skimming over her throat, or back, or thighs. HE was too afraid of his father’s icy disappointment to defy him – asha didn’t fear the blade, no matter how cruel the gleam in the blade, or in the eye of the BEAST brandishing it.
as if SUMMONED by her thoughts, heavy footfalls drew nearer down the corridor outside her bedchamber prison cell. she recognized them, drawing her head upward ( trying to ignore the PAIN that shot through her neck when she moved ) so she could be smirking at him when the door was pushed open, split lip && all. && so she was.
lips rise in the crevice of his mouth slightly, curling up && cutting
through one side of his face. boots STOMP heavily against the floor of stone
as he CREEPED towards his new toy. he held the screams of his prey dearly.
he ADORED the sight of them writhing && screaming. the CRACKING of bones
as they pulled against the binds, endless attempts to break free only to result
in LIMP limbs. teeth RAKE across the bottom lip before clearing his throat to speak.
' well, well. MISS ME, did you? '
fingers rest upon her neck, slowly curling into a tighter grasp. hands strip free
of gloves && strewn to the ground ; flesh on flesh. flaying men made him laugh like
it was some CRUEL joke only he could understand. the torture his VICTIMS endured
was humorous to the bastard. however CHOKING was another story. the feeling of
labored breath under his grip aroused him. causing his own pulse to RISE the more
they struggled to GASP for air. it was being able to FEEL they're every inhalation,
watching faces change from shades of reds to purples. seeing the GLAZED look in
their eyes just before the life LEAVES their body, leaving them nothing more than a
CORPSE to dispose of. his grip grows taut, fingers squeezing until she begins to feel
the STRUGGLE of lack of oxygen. he liked the distressed coughs && DESPERATE
gasping. his hands slowly start to release && push her head to face him. eyes the
color of ICE stare into her own && the SMIRK returns.
' and here i was, worried you might have HATED me. '
andulkaphoto
romaincrisis
origamiaround
2087
gamechangershow
ellievsbear
yousharknotpass
