Beggar

Chapter 10: "My Sweet Slave."

If I relax enough I could convince this thing I wasn't, in fact, in physical pain with its demands. Maybe convince myself, too. I wouldn't show this thing any indication of surprise, I could play its games.
"Another,"

It made a small noise like sarcasm, perhaps a hum of a song written in a place far from here. Mercy was despicably still when it said, "You want another price, then you are wasting my time."

"I'll beg you."

"I know you would, because you think I am like the Crime Lord. You think we both come from the same evil, but wicked is all different, girl."

Not what I asked. Not what I was bargaining.  This was all a waist of time. This thing as old as the dawn could never take me seriously, I was a child to it compared to millions of years of existence— maybe more. It wants me to get on my knees and beg, but not for it. It wants my sacrifice, but I've sacrificed so much, and was willing to do more. Still it wanted me to take more out of myself it knew I couldn't give. Part of me wanted to tell it to go back to hell, I'd take this knife and cut Sayters feet while he slept. I'd let him run, and track him wherever he would go. Taking my time, lashing out through the dark to cut him over and over again until he was just ribbons and a pool of skin. I didn't need this thing.

"I wouldn't do that," it blinked, the only sign that it was truly there, and not just my own face grimly staring.
"Get out of my head," I curled my fingers into weights at my sides, and something heavy beat down in my heart. Like a cage of humans hands clenched together between my ribs, holding tightly to stop the thrashing in my chest.

"The Crime Lord never went to sleep, girl, you don't think when he tells you things, because he is the only interaction you can have. There are guards out there, they will come and slit your throat if they hear their master scream. That is, if you get the chance to attack, you don't realize he let you slip out of his room?"

I thought of how he turned in the bed and in one movement let go of me. He gave me complete freedom and I hadn't seen it. It was a test. Or Mercy was testing me. Or it was begging, silently— trying to get me to let it out. "I-I can't let you out of the mirror."

"My sweet slave, shall I crawl into you I will still be contained, if that is your concern. Your eyes, your mind, all a mirror, I will see in you as I see myself." It spoke like it was trying hard to fit my language, like its ancient words couldn't be too sure of themselves.

"Liar."

It turned my face into a mold, a mocking smile crawled to reach my eyes. A face like a book that showed hate, some smug lines, and a little disappointment. This time, I cringed.
"Have fun being the Crime Lords bitch, Victoria."

I didn't look away from my own eyes, and I suppose looking in so concentrated it was the difference only I could nitpick. A green sprawled over the milky orange, like a spinning vine over a pumpkin. The clay lips that stretched to a grin sunk into my cheeks, there was a small noise like a tentacle going over sandbags, or carpet, or tree bark. Somehow, I knew what those sounded like, could hear it in my contracting jaw.
And Mercy was gone.

"Wait!" I didn't look away from my eyes, not yet, still a web stretched over like skin on the new color. "I'll do it."

But my lips didn't stretch into a hostile grin, and my own eyes stared green right back. If my eyes were a forest, I'd be with a bored Sayter reading his book while I tear out the grass around me, bored. I looked away from the mirror, gone, like that. And the book—
The lines on the pages were littered with black blood.
"Please.." I breathed.

Look at me.

I jerked, far up from where I was on my knees I used an arm to haul me up, and before I could spin to check the mirror a reflection rested on a picture frame. A shallow, beating orange eye.

And I was struck.

My elbows hit the sink but my feet didn't touch the floor. I tried to reach for my mouth but it held my hands back, and spider leg like hands reached into my mouth while the rest of the weight poured in. The carriage of human hands in my chest unclenched, my ribs unclenched, to let Mercy slip comfortably between the spaces.

And like that I fell, my knees buckled when I hit the floor, and I inched up to find myself in the mirror. My body felt old, then strong, like a potion or fine wine that unaged an ancient women. When I looked into the mirror, a boy stared right back.

"I hope you're prepared for punishment Victoria," it cooed, the boy stared with orange eyes. Not orange, I realized, gold, rich and impatient. "For it shall be your last."

Ф

I crept back into Sayters room. I figured I should pretend I didn't know he was awake, waiting for me. My chest was cold, and I kept beating in and out breaths of air to warm that space above my resting heart. I felt a tug on a rib, Mercy's protest to fuck right off and calm down.

So I slid into the sheets, and after a moment my lovely Master claimed my chest. Sayter slid my bare back to fit into him, and he purred in my ear, "You made the right choice, my obedient submissive."

I shifted, laying my head on his chest. Getting comfortable how I pleased before I raised a little hell.

A/N

I know you all expected more from this chapter and I am sorry, thats why I kept it short but I felt like Mercy and Victorias scene was important and fun to write so get off my ass next chapter will be the chapter where fucking everything happens.

❤️ - giantsnails