"Hello," she said back, watching him as he adjusted to his new surroundings. And the smile that spread after he challenged her -tested her- to do it again, was slow and wide and dangerous. For a moment, he doubted the wisdom of pushing her that way, this stranger with powerful secrets. Then again, he'd never been wise, had never had concern for himself enough to think through his actions.
She glided towards him, smooth and fluid, and he held his place as she studied him. He welcomed that perusal, her eyes taking in all the skin pulled grossly tight over bone as if he hadn't eaten in months with more unnatural bone thrusting out of him. One day, the armor would protect him, but at only five years it had yet to cover the most vital places.
Still, he returned that open appraisal, noting her impossible grace that was so quietly lethal. Like a poisoned dagger you couldn't help but admire as it pierced into you and claimed the life within. She was terrifying in a way he found to be beautiful. Maybe that would be his last conscious thought someday.
"Well," she pulled his attention back to her face, "since you asked so nicely."
He could sense her, so focused as he was, as she slid back into him again, but he stayed open, so open. So curious. There was a perverted sort of amusement to have someone inside him, rather than the other way around, and he smirked at the thought. It was wiped cleanly from his face though as his inner pain came loudly to the front of his mind again. He heard himself cry out, felt it clawing and rending through him with each appearance of a face from his life -didn't matter who, didn't matter which; he had destroyed them all.
Then it gently quieted. Numb, wonderfully numb. He hummed a sigh, sinking into this blissful relief.
Such hurt. What have you done, boy?
That was what it would be like without her?
He preferred this painkiller of a witch within him.
A lot, he admitted heavily in his mind, believing she would hear him as he had heard her. He had done much, caused a great deal of damage -most unintentional, even. Turmoil and heartache seemed to follow in his wake wherever he went. He was like a catalyst, a bringer of dark and painful things. A bad omen, maybe.
I could make it all go away, she promised. He believed her, trusted that she could silence the emotional pain and he could stay in this numb where he didn't have to feel it, didn't have to think or make choices. He could just be. It was such a tempting thought, relieving, but at what cost? Did any price really matter, though? He had sold himself to a magician. What was one master for another to him? It was so hard to care when it felt so good here. So empty.
If you're good for me. If you let me play.
He smiled slowly, -or he thought he might have. That sounded good. Harmless and fun. What was a little time away in this world with her where nothing else mattered? Just a while, wasn't it? A while to be free of the pain in him. And fun, she was fun, wasn't she? Maybe.
Hmm, he mused, drawled so low and smooth. He tried to press his mind against her, testing her hold on him, her strength with this strange power she had. I'm often so very bad, though. As if she didn't already know, couldn't already tell. What happens when I'm bad, he whispered into his mind, brushing against her presence again there. Too much curiosity, too much interest. Always testing boundaries with people; he couldn't help it.
What kind of play, he asked next, not caring to remove the suggestion flirting in his tone. He couldn't help it. Always pressing and pushing. How much was too much for this one? How much would she give him? Curiosity only, really. He had Dizzy, didn't want anyone else.
But he couldn't help it.
Come play with me then.
Another quiet challenge, another innuendo.
Another deliberate nudge against her hold on him.
Its alright, you'll be fine baby, I'm in control
Take the pain, Take the pleasure. I'm the master of both
