Pain. It was only a small amount of pain, but it was pain all the same. Pain she couldnât protect herself from or even fight back against. She screamed louder than what felt necessary. It started out gruntingly in her throat, but as the nail began tearing slowly from her skin and the smell of blood filled her nostrils, she allowed it to unleash from her lips like a short, shrill wail. It was more of an irritating hurt than one that would warrant a truly agonizing screech, but she wanted him to feel satisfied. Even though she knew that that time wouldnât come until much more blood had been spilled, she still felt as though appeasing him was more appropriate than being too tough. If she acted like all this was a cinch, heâd only try harder to break her and she already knew how creative he was. He knew he could get more from her than a half feigned scream. But as he threw the metal contraption against the wall and it shattered to pieces, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. It appeared she wouldnât be losing all her fingernails after all.
He seemed so flustered, as though there were a thousand and one heavy thoughts racing through his mind all at once, each one fighting the others for top billing. His eyes were beginning to well up with frustration, making half of Therése want to hold him to her chest and stroke his hair, and the other half want to laugh in his face tauntingly. He suddenly gripped her face between his hands, holding her head so tight she thought he might squash it right there between two cold, marble palms, her head instinctively pulling back away from him.
âI want to know why. Why did you do it?â
Therése was about to speak - well, insult - but as he backed away from her to wipe a couple of stray tears that threatened to spill helplessly down his cheeks, she stopped herself. Her body relaxed once more, pulling down for a moment on the chains that held her arms up high, resting her feet as he spoke.
He tottered on for a short while about finding peace and ending the pain, as all immortals who feel cheated by the way their human existence ended do, but TherĂ©se lost it the instant he began acting ungrateful, as though heâd have preferred nothing more than to be left in the dirt to die.
âWas I your little experiment, was that it? You just wanted to see what it was like to sire someone or do you just find some kind of twisted satisfaction in turning dying humans into monsters?â
If there were blood that pumped freely through her body, TherĂ©seâs cheeks would have been fire engine red as she felt her whole body begin to fume. Her arm muscles tensed and she brought herself back into the defiant straight standing position she had just relaxed from, a grimace dragging her face downward.
âDo you think I did it for me?! I did it for you! I could just as easily have left you there!â She yelled, her body leaning forward, aggressively yanking against the chains, âI didnât do it to satisfy some morbid curiosity, I did it to put you out of your misery, you should be thanking me!â That was a lie. She didnât really care if he thanked her or forgot about her, but she also didnât appreciate being belittled for gifting a beautiful stranger with eternal life. She withdrew from her screaming fit with an audible sigh, her eyes sliding closed as she pushed away the frustration of not being able to slide her hands around his neck and squeeze until his head popped right off his shoulders. Her head hung down against her chest as she settled herself, âYou donât even know what was happening to me before I found you. I still donât even know why I bothered to sire you when I could have just taken your life.â She said, her voice low and quiet. Unwelcome images of piled up soldier bodies and a constantly open wrist vein flickered through her mind, but she breathed them away.
The taunting of the silver cross necklace made TherĂ©seâs hair stand on end and he waltzed behind her to fasten it around her neck. It burned her chest the instant it collided with her skin and she did her best to lean forward so it would dangle down, away from her, but her hands were chained so high, the best she could do was have it sway back and forth, bumping repeatedly into her. Her teeth came down hard over her bottom lip as she bit a whimper away, but it was agonizing. The sporadic burns in the same spot may as well have been holy water sprinkling down from the sky, torturously slow, but unrelenting.
âSo ⊠begin. Tell me a story mommy dearest.â
His words were snakes hissing in her ears, echoing through her skull.
âYou obviously werenât worth the trouble,â she spat, the smell of burning skin agitating her nostrils and mind, âIf I knew you were such a fucking cry baby I would have sucked you dry and left your dead body in the dirt.â She glared into Ezraâs pristine, blue eyes, almost regretting the words the instant they came out, but not quite. She saw the hurt in them, and she liked it. An unrelenting, yet unnecessary, pant had developed rhythmically in her throat as she concentrated on having the cross touch her as little and briefly as possible. âItâs not like the world needs another pathetic, melodramatically vengeful vampire running around in it.â
Her words came out venomous like the snakes he had unleashed into her ears, but she hoped they hurt more than he was letting on. Perhaps she would be sorry for hurting him, but not yet, because at that moment she just felt the aggressive, passion fueled fire that began burning hotter and hotter in her stomach.
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