© Amber Kalkes 2015
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"Vicarious" By Tool
. T W E N T Y O N E .
Iris stares up at Xavier with shock despite knowing it isn’t really him who wants her dead. It seems silly really, to now be immortal and now be killed. If she weren’t busy trying to Xavier to stop she’d laugh at the irony of it. Instead she claws at his hands, his face and his arms trying in vain to make this stop.
She can feel her body fighting for air making her clawing become desperate and wild. She can’t die, not like this and not right now. When his hands tighten impossibly around her neck she gasps while the cracking of her neck bones seem to echo in the room.
Blood splashes onto her lips making Iris search through blurry eyes of her own for the source. Xavier, hovering above her is crying, streaks of red flowing down his face in twin rivers. Seeing the fear and anger in his eyes she knows he doesn’t want to kill her as much as she doesn’t want to die.
Despite this though his hands tighten ever more and Iris lets out breathless wheezing noises. More his blood hits her face and since her mouth is open some of it lands on her tongue. Iris’s eyes, bloodshot and bulgy begin to roll back into her head and the last noise she hears his a whisper in Xavier’s voice.
“Forgive me.”
. . . . .
As Xavier’s hands continue to squeeze Iris’s neck Marianne watches the scene with sick glee. Its something she’s wanted to see since she found out about Xavier’s little bitch. She’s wanted her dead and having Xavier to do it is just the whip cream on top. Marianne only wishes she could see the look of utter fear on the girl’s face but Xavier’s back is in the way.
Pity, she thinks, it would have been a wonderful memory.
Marianne has always been a woman who loved how barbaric life could be. Bring born into slavery among the swamps and thick air of Louisiana had made her introduction to the world harsh. Still she was able to make use of her looks and when she was sold to a lonely widower. Marianne had been on the bottom of the pile and she uses any strengths she can find inside herself to never be there again.
Her master had come down with what looked to be influenza, easily preventable now of course but back then a thing to worry about. He didn’t take long to die from it and only a week after his death Marianne herself became ill. Knowing she may be sold again she escaped despite her illness. She didn’t make it far, too weak to keep moving when she saw the woman who would make her.
Her name was Genevieve and on first sight of her Marianne thought her an angel. With her thick raven colored hair, large blue eyes and milky white skin Marianne thought she has truly died. It was not until she woke up with an unquenchable thirst and Genevieve told her what her life was to be from then on.
It was about a hundred years when Marianne had come across Xavier. He was cultured, handsome and an easy mark to ensnare. Since Genevieve had thought her done with the instruction of Marianne nearly fifty years before that time Marianne had become bored. Xavier was going to fix that.
He was hers. From the first moment he walked into her parlor till this very moment he would always belong to her. He just needed a reminder of that from time to time and this would be a perfect way to show him.
She hears the girl wheezing still, much to her disappointment.
Marianne feels Xavier’s mind fighting her control desperately and it only makes her clamp down it harder. He will come to her broken if may be because Marianne didn’t make him for some weak girl to enjoy. She gave Xavier life everlasting for her own enjoyment. He was hers to toy with and to control. What is hers stays with her, simple as that.
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.Deadly Affections.
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