Truth Lies

Torn

The devil took her arm, dragging her.

"C'moonn," he whined.

She glared at him, pulling her arm back and wipes the stench off of her.

"Don't touch me."

The first demon whimpered, and let go.
Satisfied, she nodded her head once, and followed him cautiously around the bend.

"Now, as I'm sure you proooobably know," the fist devil said, flicking his bright green hair in a diva-ish sort-of way, "I'm just a subordinate really. I don't really come up with the material and shit, so please don't be hating on like what happening because I swear I had nothing to do with it and-"

At his words, her temper flared to a blinding rage.
How dare he.
How dare he.
She grabbed the pocket knife out of her jean pocket and presses it against his artery, making him let out a gasp of surprise and a sliver of blood drip down from a tiny cut.

"Don't," she growls, engaging in a one-sided death stare competition with him.
"First of all, I don't where you demons get your fucking ideas, but I will never, ever be your friend. Don't even think about it. We are full-blooded enemies. We will never be anything. Nothing, you hear me? I'm so done right now, I'm so at the edge that I'm tempted to tear the flesh of your skull piece by piece while I see you writhing in pain and misery. Oh, no, I know. I'm going to do the Xiangamen torture." She smiles widely at him, and runs her tongue over her teeth.
"Don't you know what that is?" She asks, cocking her head to the side, smiling at him again.

The devil shakes his head slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing hard again in his throat, making her blade jump.

She sticks her bottom lip out, genuinely disappointed.

"Aww," she moans, putting her switchblade closer to his skin. "Doesn't anyone read torture books anymore?"

The first devil's eyes go wide, and he swallowed hard.

"P-please don't do anything," he whispers, looking down at his shoes without moving his head. "I have a family at home, and I need to get back to them." He continues, looking ashamed.

Aware of how crazy she must sound, she begins to laugh.
The devil looks up, genuine fear in his eyes, and she felt a rush, happiness and pain and sadness and anger and pity and mockery and just plain... crazy.

She laughs again, spitting blood out of her mouth.

"Aha, ha, ha. Hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA!" She briskly wiped unknown tears from her eyes, and when they continued to flow down freely, she decided to leave them there, arguing with herself that it must add to the 'gone insane' look.
With her hair in a messy bun, her long bangs kept away from her face with the help of a bandeau, a headband, her face etched with sorrow, pain, hardship, and hatred beyond compare, the blue tips of her blond hair splaying freely in the slight wind, her blue eyes dripping tears and her ten-day-old makeup probably meshed all over her face in some grotesque mask of horror, the corners of her mouth twitching up and down, itching to go into a smile and a frown, baggy undereyes from not having slept a wink in nearly 3 days, and her clothes tattered, showing purple bruises painful to the touch, she had the look of someone who was either unhinged, running away, or on the way to die.
She was done.
Just, done.

"Do you"- she cackled, shaking her head and grinning- "think I care?! Do you," she clucked her tongue, "think I give a damn about your... your family?!"

The devil, unsure if he should respond, furrowed his eyebrows in one unwrinkled line.

She shook her head, answering the unspoken question.
"No," -she answered her own train of thought- "I really don't.''

The first devil's face turned into a mask of confusion and he opened his mouth to begin to say something, but she presses her switchblade closer to his artery, now bulging with fear.

"You," she spat at his feet, "have taken away the only thing I have ever loved, and who knows if I might see him ever again?
"Can I just," she took a breath, calming her shaking hands and her twitching eye, "make something very clear?"

The devil, looking at her then the knife in utter fear, bobs his Adam's apple and nods hesitantly, unsure whether to answer out loud or not.

She laughs again, a bit insanely, and declares, with a smidge of smugness:
"He's the most important person in my entire life. I can't live without him. I knew from the beginning that it'd just me and him, y'know?" She shakes her head, and smiles at little, remembering with fondness at the first memory she had of him.
"Hell, I hadn't even started to feel free until I met him. He showed me what freedom was. He showed me what life was. He showed me" -here her voice dropped to a heartbreaking whisper- "he showed me what love was. What it felt like to matter to someone. To not be judged for just living your life. To just be encouraged for the stupidest things in the entire world."
She then turned to him, and the longing and suffering was clear in her crystal blue eyes now brimmed with tears yet again.
"Can't you see," she cried, wiping her tears away, sobbing, "that I love him? That I want to be with him every day of every minute of every second? Can you not see," she said with clenched teeth, preventing another sob from escaping, "that I need him like I need air?"
She looked up at him again, and this time, desperation at having her plea heard, desperation at having the devil understand what she was feeling, plain, simple, desperation, was etched on every single aspect of her face, not one ounce of her face ugly, as the rain washed away all of her makeup and tears, leaving a slightly tan, beautiful girl who couldn't live without this guy, this guy who made her feel complete, this guy whom she was certain was her soulmate, the guy she was truly, truly, truly, in love with with every single fiber of her being, the same way she couldn't live with the fact that Selena Gomez was very much liked in the celebrity world, desperation at making the world understand that if he died, she would die with him, because a day without him was a day of misery and loneliness, a day of pure hell, a day much better spent doing something with him than without him. Couldn't the devil understand that Jacqueline couldn't be Jacqueline without her Jonathan?
Suddenly, the odds shifted, and the devil grabbed her arm, turning the switchblade against herself.

"Sorry, babygirl," he whispered fiercely in her ear, "I've had worse taken from me, and I'm still okay. You can survive without that little brat. You did once before. You can" -he jerked her head back to expose her throat- "do it again. But first," he said, holding up the knife to the barely noticeable sun through the trees, "I'm not letting you get away without a little...treat."

Panic shot through her veins, and she bit his arm. Thrashing, she couldn't feel the blade until it was held up against her throat.

"Fucking stop that," the devil seethed, his blade getting colder by the minute.

She stopped struggling, and shook her head slightly, wrinkling her nose.

"You..." she spat softly, "you can't do this and expect to get away with it."

The devil laughed, and licked her ear.

"I already have," he breathed, smiling.

Letting out a gasp of disgust, she started struggling again, catching the devil by surprise. She got up, and began to run away, but the demon got up, wiping away the rain from his sweaty face, launched in pursuit of his captive.