Bound in Blood
-Lucy squealed, followed by a happy giggle and watched him with glittering crimson eyes as he entered her home. This one wasn’t a toy, Luce, remember that. Not a toy. A friend. A screaming meanie not human friend. Her wide and bright smile never left her face as she haphazardly moved around, shutting the door with a resounding echo against the wood.-
Come with me! I’m sure you have to be real thirsty, huh? Watch the mess, we don’t want you to slip! Company was dreadful messy earlier and I had to remind them not to make messes in other’s homes! Such bad manners.
-Shambling toward the kitchen, ignoring the blood that stained the carpets, walls and floors, Lucy immediately locked eyes with her ‘company’, strapped to a chair, their eyes spilling over with tears upon seeing her. Still alive, throat cut open and exposed the most tender parts. She hadn’t stopped playing, after all. She only took a moment to check out the presence she felt. And goodness gracious! What a cutie!-
-But she stopped, tilting her head curiously, the ceramic and plastic pieces of her body grinding with the movement and she turned back to her new friend, still bright-eyed and curious.-
Say Mister, you never did tell me who ya were! That’s not very nice, you know. Even for someone who’s not human. Speaking of which! What are ya? You’re a real cutie, but I never met one of your type before! Only dumb-dumbs come in here, thinking this place is a joke. Hmph! My dolly house, a joke! Well! I sure gave them the what-for, yes sir!
-She was getting far too ahead of herself. Shaking her head, eliciting more grinding sounds, Lucy blinked rapidly and cleared her throat, which sounded as if someone was crunching broken glass.-
Now I know I invited ya in, but could you do this dolly one teensy favor? What’s a swell guy like you called, huh? I’m just itchin’ to know!
Anyone else would have been at the very least severely rattled, if not outright scared shitless by the state of the house Mal was guided into (Lucy herself aside); however, he simply raised an interested eyebrow.
That was definitely a lot of blood. A lot of blood.
He could dig it.
Mal nodded along with Lucy as she chattered, shaking his head sadly. "Such a shame. Good manners are so hard to come by these days." There was another scent in the air aside from blood (old and congealed, more fresh and slick), and it was that scent that caused his irregular heartbeat to quicken, his pupils narrowing into thin slits. He followed Lucy into the ruined kitchen, pausing at the sight of what had caught his rapt attention, threatening to override his sauve persona: a person strapped to a chair. Their body was a network of weeping lacerations and cuts, and the fear and pain and misery, sheer sweet misery simply poured off of them in waves.
Mal took a deep breath, steadying himself, and dug his fingernails into his palms. Lucy turned to stare at him intently, and after a couple of seconds he was composed enough to respond. "My apologies; that was rude of me. Malice, at your service." He ducked his head in a deferential manner, allowing his curled horns to breach his flesh and poke through his pale hair, flashing a smile marked by asymmetrical jagged teeth. "Do you wanna guess what I am, darlin'? We can make a game of it. Everytime you're wrong, your guest over there loses something else that's not gonna grow back." He looked over at her terror-stricken victim, eyes beginning to glow. "Whaddya say, sweet Lucy? Playtime's always better with a friend."













