"Is it just me that thinks the attachment Plague has to Kira in HS2 wasn't explored more? It seemed to have been treated as something happening in the big instead even though it was the very thing that led Plague to her demise. Why did she grow attached to her? How did they go from Kira trembling at Plague’s presence to the former crying at her death? I would have loved to learn more about their relationship and what she may have seen in Kira"
synopsis: what could be more terrifying than insanity?
for prompt no.5 of the april bingo: free space
trigger warnings: storms, broken glass, a lot of blood, graphic imagery and description of corpses, violence and fighting, murder, swearing, torture, very lightly implied sex slavery (very much implied but i'll put it here nonetheless). dd:ne. please be mindful!
word count: 2.8k (of straight up misery)
// vivi try to not mention eragon malbonte dynamic challenge impossible. you know the drill: sadie is a harmony bearer, previously on the council by malbonte's side; layla is a seraphim angel, married to lucifer as the lawful mistress of hell after the law is abolished . will elaborate on them soon (i think)
‘Madam, please don’t show your shock too visibly,’ Pike tells her gently before he opens the doors. He’s trembling so hard that his hand knocks against the doorknob unintentionally. ‘The grand hall is rather… unrecognizable. Just keep your head down. You don’t want to catch her attention.’
Sadie doesn’t truly grasp his meaning until they enter. The first thing she notices is that the enormous oak table is gone — as are the jeweled chandeliers, the elegant tapestries, half of the skylight, and the large paintings depicting various battles and treaties. In their place, the walls have been chipped and damaged, the dais is crumbling on one side, and the wooden flooring is cracked and peeled back in several places. Outside the broken windows, a hurricane rages — the sky is dark and ominous, and sheets of rain lash against the battered building. The floor is slick with a mix of blood and water, the corpses of demons and angels alike lying in the mess. In the center of this chaos, the old Chief Councilor’s chair of state — which had been put away after his death — is placed randomly, and everyone else is arranged around it stiffly, like a child’s dolls.
Sadie’s hungry eyes devour the sight after so long spent in the dark. Everyone she thought dead is returned. Fencio with an arm on Dino’s shoulder; Torendo and the familiar condescension in his posture, Satan and his glowering, venomous face; Eragon, on bleeding knees before his old throne, hands bound behind his back, head bowed and teeth gritted.
On Plague’s left is Lucifer, with a vice-grip on Mimi’s wrist. Both of them are pale, but whereas Mimi is bloodied and bruised, Lucifer is as unharmed as he was when Sadie last saw him. He looks tormented, however; a haunted gleam in his red eyes. Most of the angels and demons of the Council lie dead on the floor, their remains splattered everywhere. The air is sick with rot, a permeating smell that clings to her body; but the realization that splinters any last shred of control she may have had is that Layla is nowhere to be seen. Sadie feels a desperate, overpowering impulse to run over and see if any of those corpses sprawled face-down are her friend’s. Her heart sinks.
Please let Layla be okay. Please, please, please. She doesn’t even know who she’s praying to, but she chants the words inside her mind, holding on for all she’s worth.
Meanwhile, a hollow-eyed thrall wrenches the previous Chief Councilor’s head back by his white hair and forces him to look up at Plague. Eragon’s glacial-blue eyes shift upwards, but it is not the Horsewoman he looks at. Instead, his harsh, condemning glare falls upon Malbonte, who is standing motionless at Plague’s right hand with an impassive face. Their gazes lock, seemingly able to convey a thousand words of their shared disdain without speaking any of them out loud.
A cry of horror wedges in Sadie’s throat, but she’s incapable of making any sound. If even Malbonte has bent the knee to Plague… terror paralyzes her body, and she freezes, fixing her stare upon her own feet. She doesn’t think she has the courage in her to look up.
The abominable creature on the throne, on the other hand, seems almost giddy with delight. She hauls one of the Seraphim angels over by his wings, cackling at his pained cry and the desperate flutter of his wings, and drops into the Chief Councilor’s seat.
‘Well!’ Her voice is a nasal, raspy wheeze; like the voice of someone who is very sick. Her too-large grin however, is anything but. Where her hands should be, there are only claws; and where there should be teeth are pointed, elongated fangs; and the whites of her eyes are completely black. She claps happily. ‘It was a nice place you had here. But it’s much better now.’
No one dares to answer. The only sound in the hall is the wind shrieking outside and the branches of trees snapping clean in half. At this silence, Plague pouts. Scantily clad in a black cloth soaked through with blood, she makes for an almost obscene display; but Plague shows no shame, and nor does anyone expect her to. ‘Everyone is so boring,’ she says suddenly, but she doesn’t sound bored. In her voice is barely leashed anger.
‘What do you say, hm?’ She lifts one foot and stomps down on Seraph Raguel’s head. The angel’s scream is muffled as Plague grinds the heel of her boot into the meat of his cheek. ‘So tedious. Pathetic, too. No one here gave me a good fight… except you.’
She rotates her head in a full circle, the bones in her neck cracking sharply, and points a talon at Eragon. ‘Why so glum, Eragon? Are you not going to help your suffering fellow angels? What a Chief Councilor you are… or were, I’ve been told. But you're not very grateful. I bring you back from Nonexistence, and I don't even get a thank you.’
Eragon presses his lips together into a firm line, and Plague’s eyes narrow. She motions to the thrall. ‘Make him speak.’
The thrall places her hands on either side of Eragon’s head and presses down. Sadie can’t tell what force she applies, but the scream that crawls up the Seraph’s throat is raw, guttural with primal fear. It is a sound of pure agony, and people flinch, unable to look away, transfixed. Torendo smiles with smug satisfaction, and Malbonte directs his eyes downwards for the first time.
She’s mad. Insane, rabid, crazy. What does she want? What will she take? Sadie’s thoughts race too fast for her broken body to keep up with, and her legs buckle, forcing Pike to seize her. Even though the sound of her skirts rustling is minuscule amidst Eragon’s screams, Plague catches it. She snaps her head around again, her manic gaze locking onto Sadie’s. Her lips split into a wide grin.
‘Oh, Sadie, darling.’ Casually, almost dismissively, she flicks her wrist. Eragon goes flying into the walls with a loud crash and does not move again. A sharp inhale echoes through the hall, and this seems to bring Plague great joy. ‘Poor petal. Look at how pale you’ve become! Such lank hair, and my, those are some fearsome scars.’ She giggles coquettishly, but the sound is warped and distorted by her voice. ‘Come, girl.’
Sadie does not move. Her obstinance is partially due to fear, but also because now her mind is beginning to work, as if it had been doused with cold water, and the feeling replacing her fright is not self-preservation or horror. It is anger; visceral and real, almost calming in its burning passion. Pure, unadulterated rage.
Plague’s eerie black eyes focus on her, and her manic smile falls away. Her face is even more petrifying when she is calm. ‘You are a human,’ she says lethally. ‘And you think I’m giving you a choice?’
Before Sadie can respond, invisible ropes bind around Sadie’s weakened body and yank her to Plague’s feet. The Horsewoman reaches down and wrenches Sadie up by her arm, digging her claws into her skin just slightly. ‘Stay there, petal,’ she warns, ‘and pay attention. I want you to watch the show.’
Sadie turns pleading, imploring eyes upon her lover. Malbonte’s gaze flicks down to hers for the barest fraction of a second before he looks away. His expression is monotonous, and his voice is flat when he rebukes her, ‘Keep your eyes where you’ve been commanded.’
‘Malbonte,’ she whispers, achingly. ‘Why… why are you…’ She wants to ask him why he'd ever help the likes of Plague, but she can piece it together well enough. Malbonte is smart enough to gauge his chances, and Plague is just too formidable of an opponent. But it’s not just that; there’s a lot she’d like to ask him. Did you visit me when I was imprisoned? Try to make her let me go, fight her at all? Are you biding your time, or have you actually chosen to be on her side? Why won’t you protect your world? Protect me?
She knows him well enough to know he won’t offer her a single answer.
‘Do not speak until you have been spoken to,’ he says icily. He does not even glance at her, where she lies sprawled at his feet. He might as well be a completely different person to —
No. No, he isn’t a completely different person. This is just who Malbonte is and always have been: cold and focused, willing to set aside anyone for his goals. In their long ten years together, how many nights did she await him, only for him to favor his reports over her? How many times has she made excuses for him leaving her by herself in the Council, for ignoring her pitiful attempts to reach out? She’s always holding on to his sleeve, two steps behind him, waiting for him to turn back, look at her, and make her feel special and loved again.
The only one pretending here is me, she thinks to herself, pretending he's going to help me. I'm on my own, like always.
Plague, thankfully, does not notice their exchange. She graciously helps the Seraph Raguel up and then spreads her arms. ‘Okay, I’m going to give you a chance, since poor Eragon is taking a nap,’ she tells him. ‘Try to fight me. Even if you draw first blood, I’ll consider it a victory for you! Aren’t I nice?’
Raguel spits blood on the floor. ‘Vile creature,’ he says by way of reply. ‘You have no place here.’
He does not let Plague retaliate before he hurls his first blow. His power is nothing to scoff at; after all, he is one of the Seraphim. Great spheres of energy burst out of him in crushing displays, nearly pulverizing the walls, but Plague deflects them with a mere flick of her finger. When they do hit her, she regenerates almost instantaneously.
The angel gapes for a split second before he regains his bearings. He begins to dodge her blows so expertly that his movements blur before Sadie’s eyes, and as he fights he lands hit after hit on Plague. He’s a formidable fighter, but even as he battles, Sadie’s heart sinks. There’s no chance.
Plague cackles madly, highly enjoying herself. Then her smile abruptly drops, and she grabs Raguel by the neck and slams him down into the ground. He screams and is unable to move; simply lying there, writhing and twisting. The Horsewoman scrapes a talon down his cheek.
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ she coos. Torendo laughs patronizingly, and in that moment, Sadie does not know who she hates more — Torendo, or Plague.
‘Don’t worry, though. You’re no fun.’ And just as quickly as it began, she breaks his neck, tearing his head from his body with savage, monstrous strength. The angel’s headless corpse stands there for the blink of an eye before it collapses like a marionette with the strings cut, joining the array of dead bodies on the floor.
Sadie clamps her hands over her mouth, a terrible feeling of despair crawling up her throat. She thinks she can hear someone scream — it sounds like Mimi — but she feels powerless with the cuffs on her wrists, paralyzed and chained by this nightmarish monster. She knew Seraph Raguel, she even liked him well enough. It feels like yesterday that she was making some idle joke about something he said at the Council table, debating his suggestions, and now he’s dead.
Desperately, she tries to think of some way to protect herself. Plague said she wanted, what? Ashes and blood? She’s certainly got enough blood here, that’s for sure, but she seemed displeased when I didn’t cry in the dungeons. It clearly makes her happy when we’re upset.
Unwilling to show Plague any signs of distress, Sadie swallows her tears and closes her eyes tightly. The air hangs heavy, pungent and sickly-sweet with rot, and the scent clings to her skin and her hair as yet another reminder of every casualty in the room. For a few blessed seconds, Sadie actually manages to imagine the room away.
She’s jerked back to reality by Plague’s sharp face right in front of hers. Enraged, the Horsewoman digs her talons right into her leg, scowling, forcing her eyes open as Sadie shrieks. ‘I told you to watch the show, petal! Didn’t you like it?’
Sadie cries out in pain, blood streaming down her leg. God, it hurts like a bitch. But she won’t say she liked it, even as a lie, and saying no seems like a death sentence, so she goes for diplomacy, something Layla would say. ‘I daresay, mistress,’ she says, in the most servile tone she can muster, ‘I feel too weak to appreciate your show. The imprisonment was so lonely, and I wasn’t given anything to eat or drink down there in the dark.’
Plague lets go of her hair, considering. Then she smiles again, prancing around to the throne and stroking Malbonte’s arm. His jaw is clenched so tightly that Sadie wonders how his bones withstand it. ‘You’re sweet, aren’t you? It’s good that you know your place; it saves me so much trouble. It irritates me when people waste my time.’
As if you have anything important to be doing, Sadie thinks, just wreaking havoc. She’s suddenly glad Plague has not tried to read her mind yet.
The monster twitches as if she can sense Sadie’s thoughts, her bulging eyes alight with joy. ‘Shall I tell you a secret, petal?’ She does not wait for an answer before she keeps talking, ‘Your pretty friend is perfectly alive and unharmed. I saw the concern swimming in your big eyes when you came in, poor thing.’
A wave of relief so immense crashes into Sadie’s heart, that for a moment she almost feels lightheaded. Layla is alright, she’s alive, and she’s not hurt. But just as quickly as relief comes, worry takes its place; after all, Plague’s definition of alive-and-safe could be drastically different from Sadie’s version of it.
‘Oh, I’m keeping her in excellent condition! I did have to take her power away, though. Weren’t you happy to have it returned, puppy?’ She smiles up at Malbonte with apparent sincerity. She took Malbonte’s power from Layla? How? Why would she want Malbonte to be even stronger, unless he’s truly joined her side?
Malbonte makes a show of unclenching his jaw before he responds. ‘I was, mistress. Thank you,’ he says emotionlessly. Then he makes a subtle movement of his head towards Plague, staring down at Sadie.
Sadie knows what he means — thank her, give her your gratitude and your fealty — but she has no such plans. She swallows and moves to kneel properly before the Horsewoman, forcing her expression into docile, fearful submission. It’s not exactly difficult to fake. ‘Mistress, may I ask why she alone has been spared when the rest of the Council has been destroyed?’
Plague goes silent, and for half a second Sadie almost believes her time has come. But then Plague signals for her to come closer and leans in to whisper. ‘I’m saving her,’ she says conspiratorially, as if they are two friends in on a big secret. ‘For when my brothers arrive. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? What really intrigues me, however, are her lack of powers.’
‘…Your brothers?’ Sadie echoes. Not once did she think Layla’s beauty or vessel-like capabilities might doom her. If there are more creatures like Plague, then everyone and their mothers are effectively doomed.
‘Your world is pathetically weak, and it is on the path to disaster, but it does bring delightful amusement,’ Plague hums, as if cheered by the thought. ‘You’ll make for lovely pets and entertaining toys, I’m sure. Layla isn’t much different, is she, Lucifer?’
Lucifer. Layla’s husband has nothing but searing hatred written clearly over his face; his thumb brushes briefly over his own wedding ring before he bows his head. ‘No, mistress.’
‘It was silly of you to tie yourself to a human,’ Plague says disdainfully, never minding the fact that Layla is a Seraph, ‘but no matter. My brother will be greatly pleased by her, now that I’ve gotten rid of the strength that lowly little thing stole. And I, on the other hand, will enjoy the rest of you!’ She twists and squirms on the throne, beaming at the disarray before her eyes.
The grand hall lies in shambles. Angels and demons alike are dead; their corpses staining the once polished floors. Those who were supposed to be dead have returned, the most powerful of the Seraphim is unconscious, and the ruler of Hell has been effectively — if not literally — chained. Helplessness casts its shadow upon Sadie’s heart, a stronger force than before.
‘Yes,’ she whispers to herself, dazed. ‘The grand hall is unrecognizable, indeed.’
okay so... uhm... sorry. sadie's a little stunted in terms of observation but she's trying ok? i wrote this because i got the idea and then i couldn't delete it from the mind. i'm bone tired and will probably regret posting this before proofreading it but #yolo
A Mexican Getaway by @dutifullynuttywitch | TW: major character death | E
Vicky Walker x Malbonte
HS2 WIP by @lolaswips | TW: suicide, mentions of torture and starvation | M
Dead of Night: Chapter 22 by @0shewrites0 | TW: canon-typical violence, blood, sexual tension, angst, explicit sexual content, explicit language, cruelty, threats of violence, jealousy | E
Dead of Night: Chapter 23 by @0shewrites0 | TW: canon-typical violence, blood, sexual tension, angst, explicit sexual content, explicit language, cruelty, threats of violence, jealousy | E
Plucked Fresh by @viviennecism | TW: blood, murder, torture, swearing, graphic descriptions of corpses, violence | E
Vicky Walker x Dino
A Mexican Getaway by @dutifullynuttywitch | TW: major character death | E
Vicky Walker x Plague
Don't Smile by @laurathecunt | TW: major character death, blood, gore, swearing | T
Multi-Pairing
Make Me A Ring Out Of Clover Flowers by @waiting4sunrise | G
: ̗̀➛ ART/EDITS
General
Melodrama by @waiting4sun-blog | TW: violence, blood, death | T
Hunger
Horseman of the Apocalypse by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd | G
Vicky Walker x Hunger
Black Beauty by @corgi-cthuwu | G
Vicky Walker x War
ABH/HS Edit by @abirc | G
Vicky Walker x Malbonte
Trusted Gaze by @erixadraws | G
Sweet Little Lies by @waiting4sunrise | TW: sexual themes, partial nudity | M
: ̗̀➛ WEB WEAVES
Leeloo
The gays are taking over by @laurathecunt, @kapabe | T
: ̗̀➛ MOODBOARDS
Vicky Walker
Royal Dress by @damatically | T
Calm Sea by @damatically | T
Volcano Throat by @damatically | T
Strict by @damatically | T
Vicky Walker x Mimi
Parallels VII - The Temptress by @waiting4sunrise | G
: ̗̀➛ GIFSETS
Lilith x Satan
Satan and Lilith by @silver-horse | TW: fire | G
: ̗̀➛ MISCELLANOUS
Lucifer x Dino
Dancing by @will-bite-if-given-the-chance | TW: mentions of sex | M
Vicky looked around at the room she was in, seeing people mingle might have made her roll her eyes too many times to count.
“Oh hello there, I'm Crystal, who are you?”
“Rebecca.”she answered, eyeing the woman. Her face was filled with makeup, her hair in a crown braid, wearing a revealing dress that leaves nothing to the imagination.
Austie would have loved that dress, she thought.
“Well then Rebecca, I hope you enjoy your last ball.”
Ah yes, the last ball.
The actual reason why she is here, Plague dragged her to visit the ball ,muttering about how humans are willing to die while wearing the most lavish outfits, she could smell the poison in the glass of champagne she was holding.
Her eyes looked at Plague, who was dragged in a debate of how they were going to die. She already looked like she was going to kill them just by her look. Vicky wondered why Plague hasn't started the slaughter, the more she is here the more her tolerance is thinning.
Her hand shot up to her neck, not feeling the chains , Plague surprised her by not chaining her.
And what if I run away?”
Plague looked at her, an amused dawned on her face
“Little bird you won't run.”
Vicky hugged but she couldn't help but to agree with her, she wouldn't run, her friends would die.
“And you think you will survive this ball?”the insufferable human asked.
Plague smirked, “Me of course.”
“And how do you keep your skin so smooth?”the pretentious woman asked.
“The years of those whom I tortured.”
The people surrounding Plague laughed as she looked at them.
*At least they'll die with a smile on their face as they meet him.
Her eyes gazed upon Vicky, looking uncomfortable and uninterested at the man who was talking to her.
Plague pouted and that didn't go unnoticed by the woman who was standing next to her.
“Is she yours?”
“Yes.”Plague answered without hesitation but something in her told her that wasn't what the woman meant.
“Well don't look at Brant like that, you might actually kill him.”
I will kill him just with my eyes.
Cling cling.
A man with graying hair stood at the centre, glass of champagne in his hand.
“Thank you all for committing yourselves to come to this event. The world has begun to meet its end .”
Vicky rolled her eyes, eyeing the man. She could tell that the man was wealthy and that instead of dying in the same way as everyone outside, these rich assholes decided that a sip of champagne was enough to lead them to death, she bets that there are others thinking that they'll go to Heaven.
Pathetic , the thought, no wonder why after entering the room Plague went to play with them.
At least they aren't chained to your friend who killed your dad, she bitterly thought.
“So before the poison takes effect, let's have one of our last dances before we drop dead. Cheers.”
Everyone raised their glasses.
Plague laughed as she raised her glass.
Good let the fun begin
---
The party was in full swing.
Debutantes dancing, singing and spilling secrets and Vicky was at the centre of it all.
“I want you to sing.”
Currently she was talking to Murray, a man in his forties who was nagging her to sing because “she has a voice of a bird” and “I can spot an artist when I see one”. He was the head of one of the most successful record company owners and producers.
“Well if you can manage to flirt with her,”she pointed at an old woman who was quietly dancing by herself. “I'll sing Elvis.”
“Deal.”Murray walked to her with fire in his eyes and that Vicky chuckled at his determination.
—
Much to her dismay Murray managed to flirt with the woman, who she learns her name, Priscilla.
“Come on kid sing.”
Vicky hugged and Murray signaled one of the band mates to stop the music.
“Well ladies and gentlemen, a guest feels a bit brave to sing for us today.”
A voice was heard, “Damn it Harold it better be not you.”
Harold argued, “Come on Harriet I did it once and I will never do it again.”
“Fear not Harriet it's not Harold, oi Murray who is it?”
Murray pushed Vicky to the stage, “Rebecca.”
Vicky was reluctant to sing but she promised Murray.
“Well we'll follow your lead by the song you sing.”
Plague was watching the scene with amusement as she watched Vicky walk to the microphone.
“My name is Rebecca, and I'm going to die, which is cruel to the fact that ever since I graduated I already was dead.”
“Oh you poor child.”
“I have a very complicated relationship with my mother…and the woman who is in the crowd.”
The woman from earlier looked at Plague, who rolled her eyes.
“And, fuck it we are all going to die, and some of us are going to hell but I feel like we've taken advantage of our lives and before I sing this song I just want to say, Hell and Heaven will not have a great time with fuckers like us taking space.”
“Fuck yeah!”one of the band mates cheered .
Treat me like a fool
Treat me mean and cruel
Vicky sang and the band mates followed, Plague looked at Vicky as she sang.
Little bird
Everyone went to their chosen partners and slowly danced to the song, forgetting that they were going to die.
Plague found herself dancing to the song, Vicky's voice sent her to hypnotic trance, forgetting about her rule over the immortals.
She was brought back with the cheers as Vicky finished singing.
“Kiddo you have talent!”screamed Murray as he clapped louder than everyone.
“Alright we will take a drag, in the meantime please enjoy the DJ's set.”
The band walked off to the buffet table to eat and the DJ decided to play La Seine.
“Care to dance with me?”
Vicky shrieked as Plague looked at her condescendingly, eyeing her.
“Little bird, Am I that scary?”
Vicky muttered something incoherent, not making sense but Plague can read what was going on her mind.
Why should I dance with her? Why did we come to this ball?
“Little bird I do not like that tone.”
Vicky jumped as her eyes met Plague’s gaze.
“Fine, I'll dance with you.”
As the song picked up at the chorus, Vicky found herself dancing with Plague .
“So are you enjoying the ball?”
“Well I made friends with an old man.”
“Ah I see, I made friends with them.”
“You mean the assholes?”
“Little bird don't be a crude.”she reprimanded her coming closer to her ear, “Besides I know that you didn't kill your father .”
Vicky froze, her head slowly turned to Plague.
“I…”
“Do you think that I'm idiotic to the point that I didn't sense your grief, how much you look at Satan's boy with anger, that you look at your mother every now and then?”
Tears were swelling in Vicky's eyes,not believing that Plague caught on her lies.
“So you bought me here for a reason?”Vicky asked, not having the energy to argue with her. Vicky didn't want to waste the Horseman's time.
Plague put her hands on Vicky's face and cradled her, “I gave you some of my powers to you, you just have to use them here. Not to have an errand boy to do the job for you.”
“By poisoning everyone”
“Yes .”
Vicky looked at her with tears in her eyes, she knew that if she put up a fight,everything will go wrong to the point that she'll never forgive herself by doing something that will make her end up dead.
Vicky hadn't noticed that Plague was still holding her , not noticing that each and everyone in the room was coughing up and bleeding blood. Vicky focused The humans dropped down one by one as Vicky and Plague continued to dance.
“This is the end, right?”
“See little bird, it was simple.”
Vicky opened her eyes and they widened in horror as they looked around them. Blood was splattered and peace was drawn to their faces.
“Oh…”
“Aren't you going to call me a …bitch?”
“Well what's the use?”
“I thought you were going to put up a fight.”
Vicky darkly chuckled, “Well you taught me one thing, that lashing out is overrated, I might lose my voice trying to fight you.”
“And now you're willing to be obedient?”
“Just a little.”
Plague surprised her by laughing hard, “Well let's leave before that …Angel throws a search party.”
“That Angel is my concern friend.”
The two of them arrived at Heaven, without sparing themselves from a glaze, neither of them wanting to talk about what happened.
-
Plague was dead.
Vicky didn't know how to feel about that, her feelings on Plague changed on that dance floor.
Vicky watched everyone around her celebrate, letting themselves forget about Death.
She walked to the kitchen, not wanting to sour everyone's happiness, it wasn't until she heard a muffled cry.
“Kiara?”
The small girl stilled as she looked at Vicky, she was sitting down on the floor, her right hand was clutching a small doll. Vicky went down to join her.
“Are you going to gloat?”
“No, I don't know how to feel.”
“About her?”
Vicky nodded.
“Well I was scared. I thought she was going to kill me but actually she was nice.”
“Nice?”
“A woman like her wouldn't be associated with being nice but she was different , she was rough around the edges but she was nice.”
“And she didn't lay a finger on you?”
Kiara shaked her head violently , “She'd never. She made me feel more than just an immortal, she made me feel like a child.”
“Would you like me to hug you?”
Kiara nodded and Vicky hugged her, tears finally falling.
“She told me to ask you this, will you take care of me?”
“Oh, Kiara I will."She hugged Kiara tightly, I fucking will.
