Drabbles

[salemocdrabbles-blog]

https://youtu.be/1SiMExhxwws

It was just a deal.

That’s all she had known, a deal for power. A deal to become something greater. 

Hand outstretched and gripped tight in the demon’s much larger grasp, the pact was made. Her fate was sealed and the world went black.

Her dreams were plagued with screams, screeches of pleas for preservation... an escape. Once her world became quiet, she budged her sore body with the realization of warmth splattered on her. Her hands soaked in the red liquid. Blinking, she came forward to the site she’d never imagine to see. Her sister’s had never looked so twisted that it had stirred the vile in her stomach. Mother had so many holes that just seeing one had pushed her to release her stomach. Shana refused to even look to her father as she covered her ears, as if the sound of the world was too much. 

Warmth and the feeling of the handle of the sacrificial knife were what she noticed at the action. Pulling the accused hand away, she stared at the offending item. Colored and drying red, the knife had it’s obvious use in the death like grip she still possessed on it. A look to the floor and her own body said the scene.

And it was numbing. Absolutely numbing as she aimed the knife right where the pain was. Shutting her eyes, she slammed the sharp edge as deep as she could towards the beating burden with a cry of pain.

Do you really think it’s that easy?

A mocking tone rang through as she saw the wound refuse to even bleed. Her body felt almost separated from her soul as she panted with the exertion and pain. Slowly the blade was unsheathed from herself, seeing the wound heal to something that would definitely scar.

Looking up to the darkening skies, she let the knife fall as she cursed to the loudest degree she could. To let her pain be know.

                          Because is anything that easy?

[salemocdrabbles-blog]

Practice

TW: mentions of harm/possible hint to suicide

Hand in hand, just like any other, him leading her. Despite the threat of this omnipresent force their ex companion held and how they were putting them all into their own sick game.... well nothing ever changes, does it? 

A distraction. An action to make them forget. Something that could keep the images of their close friend’s death... or really her’s, as these events never worried him. 

Only her. 

She was the focus of tonight’s activity. The promise still fresh on his lips. ‘Of course I’d teach you to dance.’ Now in the music room, smug as he could show with his hand in her hand. “The promise is old.” He would hum out. “But I keep my word.” 

The unnatural purple hue of irises met her blue ones. Fear was clear with her, but again that was given. Taking her hands (so small) and holding her close. She was unnerved, he could feel it as he let himself take the lead. “Not any mortal has had the pleasure~” The puppeteer purred out, trying to ease the tension. “To have gotten lessons from me.” 

Almost on cue, he heard a snort, a pleasant noise that showed he was on the right track. “You’re kidding right?” Her reply was weak, though her movements took more strength as she followed step. 

A spin, a twirl, and already he seemed to have her follow in step. “The closest I’ve gotten was the mind of a dancer, who proceeded to dance her pretty little heart off a roof.” He would gloat, to her obvious displeasure. 

But that was ok. 

He needed that distance, that reminder. His point was taken to heart though, her look not of shock but of distaste. She was already use to the mad man’s rambles. Silence stretched after, leaving both to get lost in the silent movement they had created. This was their space. One to forget, one to distract and almost immediately she would fall back, his hands holding her along for the ride as he held her close and steadfast. 

Looking up at him showed his smirk, his pride. The excitement of the moment clear in his eyes... and with that, lost in the moment as he closed the gap. A peck... something so small and yet way too much as she was left to fall against floor. 

And within him his emotional pendulum swung.

Rage was all he felt. Why had he let that happen? Shocked on the floor, she watched him slam a fist to the wall, a new dent added to their precious room. The only music playing now was a shriek of disgust as his eyes shown his feelings. A glare of utter hatred shot towards her before his form vanished in the floors... leaving nothing left but her to tremble on the floor wondering what had even transpired...