Psychopathy

Chapter 18- Animalistic

Isabel couldn't stop scratching her head. It had been slightly itchy for some time, but by now, it was practically painful; it was as if her scalp was on fire. She knew that she had been messing up her hair with her scratching and that the devil didn't like it when her hair was messed up. But she couldn't help it. She had to do something to ease the painful itch on her scalp.

As her hands came back up to scratch, the devil callously slapped her hands. She lowered her hands and started twirling her chain around her fingers. She had to do something to distract her hands so she wouldn't give in to the urge to scratch. Suddenly, a few demons started to scream, their screeching wails piercing the air. Both Isabel and the devil shot up from their thrones, and the devil pointed a finger at her.

"You stay here," he hissed at her, and she quickly sat back down. She watched as he briskly walked toward where the screams were coming from. It was only when he was out of sight that she rose from her throne and made her way to the boiling lake. As she walked, she couldn't stop scratching, but the scratching did little to ease her discomfort. Out of nowhere, the itch turned into a sharp pain. It felt as if someone was carving out a piece of her scalp.

She gasped in pain and went to touch her head, but that was when her fingertips fell victim to the same pain. A blinding pain blossomed behind her eyes; unfortunately, squeezing them shut did nothing to alleviate the burning. Even her mouth began to burn. She took a tentative step, wondering if she should keep going or fall to the ground and accept her fate. She tried to open her eyes, but the harsh landscape only increased the pain in her eyes.

She decided to continue. She needed to know what was happening to her. She quickened her pace, her muscle memory remembering the way to the lake after so many trips. Finally, she felt the hard ground turn to sand and she knew she'd reached the shore. She fell to her knees, pressing her fists onto her eyes to try and assuage the pain. It didn't work. She wanted to scream but knew if she did so, the devil may hear her and find that she had disobeyed him.

The waves crashed against her legs, but the water didn't burn. It felt like a lifetime had passed before the pain began to subside. She took a few deep breaths as it dissipated completely, and she experimentally opened her eyes, amazed to find that she could see without any discomfort. If anything, she was seeing better than before. The landscape before her was sharper, and she could see farther than she ever had.

She ran her hands up her legs but gasped in pain when she felt something scratching her skin. She looked down and saw what had changed. Her nails had grown out and had sharpened to a point. No, they weren't nails anymore. They were claws. She frantically reached up and touched her head, feeling something hard where there had been nothing before.

She reached out to the water that immediately cleared and calmed at her command. She wasted no time looking into the water, sucking in a breath when she saw her own reflection. Her hair was no longer brown; it had turned a fiery shade of orange. Upon her head, two horns had grown. But it was her eyes that shocked her the most. They weren't normal eyes. Her sclera had become black as night, and her irises had gone from the soft amber of before to a glimmering gold. She opened her mouth and was met with the sight of fangs where her canine teeth had been.

What was the meaning of this transformation? And what would the devil think of her now? But then she realized something shocking: she didn't care. Let him think what he wanted of her. She curled her fingers into a fist, enjoying the sensation of her claws pricking her skin. The devil didn't have claws or fangs. Did this mean she was stronger than him now? If she was to face him, would she be able to beat him? She looked at her reflection and gave herself a fang-toothed smile. The time for being a good little queen was over.