The Devil's Advocate

Chapter nine: Behind the devil's closed doors

Minji

Hanni was looking at me with eyes filled with a fearing curiosity. Once the last button was undone, I harshly pulled my shirt back. The gasp Hanni let out echoed and I shut my eyes before opening them again.

I looked down at the bullet scars, knife scars, burn scars, the giant whip scars that crossed my abdomen, stabbing scars, and the torture scars that adorned my skin.

I was looking down in pure shame.

She hasn't even seen my back.

No one has ever seen what I've kept hidden for so long, aside from crying, this was my biggest vulnerability. It's my reality, it's a past that set me up to be the person I am today. "Now do you see? I know more than you think." I said, getting ready to button up my shirt but I was frozen.

Her warm palm was pressed against my abdomen, her fingers delicately felt the whip scar. Her touch was so soft, a touch I haven't felt since my mother was still alive. I looked up to see Hanni staring at me with eyes that sent a warning flash through me.

She looked at me with pity, she shouldn't be looking at me like that. There was nothing to pity of me. There was nothing to feel sorry for.

Her touch was burning me, I couldn't handle it. I've never been touched this way. Her touch was just so foreign and it made fear cross through me. I shouldn't be feeling an ounce of fear over some simple touch, but I can't control it. My heart was thumping inside my chest as my eyes kept looking into Hanni's.

Her eyes moved back down to my adorned skin as her palm glided over the scar. And that was enough to set the alarms going off inside of my head.

I pulled away from her harshly as I stood up, buttoning up my dress shirt as quick as I could as I then leaned down to grab my gun. I tucked it at my waist and quickly headed to the door, grabbing the handle but her voice stopped me for a brief moment.

I shut my eyes as her voice almost came out as a whisper, but her words were clearer than water.

"You're just a broken woman."

With an aching soul. I know.

I was born broken. And there was no potential fix to it. I was forever to be broken until I blow my own senses out and meet the devil himself in the flames of the true hell.

I hated the truth more than anything in this world. I didn't give Hanni a second glance as I shut the door harshly behind me. What have I just done? I stormed down the hallway until I reached my office and went in, slamming the door behind me as some sort of panic set in me.

I leaned against the door as my breathing was staggered. My hand flew to feel the exact spot Hanni touched.

I felt distressed, exposed, and vulnerable. And that wasn't a good mix at all. I felt myself loosing the composure I've held onto for so many years, I was going to fall apart. And all because of the touch of a woman that I shouldn't care for. I don't care for her. I don't. And will never care for.

Tears formed in my eyes as I could still feel Hanni's touch against my abdomen, the pad of her fingers delicately stroking against my scar. I shut my eyes as I tried to get the feeling off of me but I couldn't. Tears filled my eyes as the feeling of her touch kept sending warning flashes through my system.

My scars are a sacred thing, no one could ever see them, much less touch them. But I showed them to Hanni, who touched them, who looked at me in a way no one ever has. Pity. Maybe even a bit more than just sorry? I wouldn't know how to explain it. But it was so different.

So different to the daggers my father threw at me when I was left limp against the ground because of him. I shook my head as I tried to shake the memories that kept coming back. I promised to leave my past behind, but it always came back.