My first Hellraiser fic... I'm proud of me! :D It's a bit AU, but not drastically, since we don't know the true origins.
Disclaimer: We all know Clive Barker is responsible for them... Go Clive!
I don't think I've ever seen this pairing before, so....yeah. I have been looking for it... I had fun, you know! Oh, and remember, Pinnie's just gotten through his little transformation, so he isn't as emotionally strong as he is in, like, Hellbound. And we all know Pinhead's one persuasive little bugger....
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"Back, Nikoletta, back!"
"I can't go any farther!"
"Obviously you can, as you are talking!"
Nikoletta groaned, her spine arching even more as her "trainer" pushed. Her head was easily touching her butt, and it hurt.
"Say something," he commanded in a short, harsh tone.
Nikoletta gurgled a reply out, turning red from bad circulation. He stopped his arduous push, letting her unwind and fall back onto the floor.
"Good, now we work on the legs-"
"I would say she's had enough."
The trainer's eyes bulged out, then he squinted and stormed out of the tent. Nikoletta was lying face-down, her back arching up like a hissing cat to reduce the pain. Her long, brunette hair fell out of a bun in soft waves. The interferring man walked over to her, and gently rolled her over. Her eyes popped open as his face was registered in her mind.
"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be training in the barracks!" She exclaimed, a mild Italian accent shining through her speech.
"But I am not! I am Captain, you know!" The man's eyes were glowing, his caring nature evident through his emotions.
Nikoletta gazed at him. "Ah, si. But you know me, never following, always leading." She gave a bright smile and limped over to her vanity.
"Are you staying for the show?" She asked, applying powder and rouge to her skin. Picking up a stick of black kohl, she turned and stated, "You should stay, you know."
"I am," he said. Walking over to her costumes, he spotted a box.
"Ah, of course. Signor has the others and I use props...ribbon, a rubber ball, and rope. It is fun, but tiring." She brought her face close to the mirror, brushing a smoky blend of eye shadow on. The kohl and mascara made a drastic change, enhancing every naturally beautiful thing about her.
He walked over to her, done inspecting the apparatuses, just as she finished applying lip stick. Sitting next to her, he rubbed the color off her lips with his thumb. "Why you wear this, I shall never know."
Tenderly, he pulled her into a kiss. Nikoletta wrapped her arms around him, deepening the embrace. She reluctantly pulled away after a moment or so.
"Elliot," she gasped. "I can't- not with the show-it's a half of an hour away!"
"Correct," he stated, moving in once again.
Nikoletta pushed his head away. "No."
In a more gentle tone, she asked, "Will you help me? I don't want Signor or Signora to."
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"...And there."
She looked in the mirror. "Bravo, Elliot. I'd have never fathomed you to be so...good at fashion," she said with a smirk.
Elliot Spenser looked at her, taking in her costume. It was a shimmering bloodred color, with considerably inappropriate cuts, if not for the fact it was a circus performer's outfit. Nikoletta gave him a quick peck on the lips, leaving a crimson streak, and darted off.
"Showtime."
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Elliot Spenser watched in fascination. The orchestra was playing and the dancers were dancing. Nikoletta shone through, her hard-worked flexibility paying off. Quite a few times, she had turned her head toward him, and her smile grew larger.
At the end, he stayed behind. Nikoletta walked over to him, jumping into his arms. "It was a success! He has loads of money! Says we're all going to buy a brilliant house and stay together...and we can bring guests!"
Kissing both her cheeks, he beamed. "Nika, that is spectacular!"
"Do visit me?"
He laughed, a rich, merry sound. "Certainly!"
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"You know," she purred. "My family would kill me for doing this if I was still with them!"
Nuzzling her head against his, she continued. "But it was worth it..."
Elliot murmurred his approval as she rested her head in the crook of his neck, laying on his bare chest. "You are sure no one heard us?"
Nikoletta grinned like a chesire cat. "Positive."
She remembered a long time ago. Her family, immediate or not, were all deeply devoted to their religion. She had obviously become Sister Nikoletta, just as loyal and respected. But it bored her. Lust and wanton need for adventure grew within her. So, she ventured away, never returning. Frankly, her family didn't miss her.
With her abnormal flexibility, a traveling circus pulled her along. She had met Captain Elliot Spenser at one of her shows, and the two had kicked it off. He was compassionate, and well-respected. She was polite and famous.
It was a perfect combination.
A loud rap on the door interrupted her thoughts. "What?" She irritably called.
"Captain Spenser is needed immediately!"
Elliot popped out of bed, and was military looking in less than two minutes.
"Nikoletta, I don't know if I'll return from this one...There has been a great deal of talk about this. I love you, and if I survive, I promise to find you. Understand?"
She nodded, tears starting to stream down her face. "I love you, too, Elliot," she choked out before he ran out the door. Running after him in nothing but underwear, a corset, and a robe, she yelled, "I'll find you!"
He was long gone.
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"Ah!" A bottle of hard liquor was thrown to the other side of the room.
The prostitute woke up from her sleepy state. "Wha-"
"OUT!" She seductively dressed, kissed him, and left with her money.
He pulled on his coat, and headed out the door of the rundown apartment. An eruption of noise followed him, the flea market buzzing with chatter. One beggar shouted something religious to him. Curtly, he had replied with "God fell at Flanders too" and stalked off. His head was beginning to clear up from the sex, alcohol, and opium "intakes". Elliot had researched, and had finally found what he wanted. It was a box, a possible doorway. He knew, without even seeing it in the flesh, that it had an aura of black magic around it.
After all, his pain was indivisble from his pleasure. Just as humans could enact such vengeful deeds, he could prevent them...hopefully, with this box.
Feeling around his coat pocket for money, he pulled out a crumpled photo. Nikoletta stood, simply yet beautifully photographed. He had to find her! Mentally, he slapped himself. How could he forget? Ah, well. She was in the past...
A dirty, old Asian man sat at the box's stand. "What's your pleasure, sir?"
"The box. I want it. You shall give it."
"For free? No, no. I must-"
"-you'll get the best woman's contact."
The man smiled, revealing yellow, rotting teeth. "Agreed. Take it, it's yours!"
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Nikoletta leaped gracefully, her ribbon twirling below her. A permanent stage smile was on her face, but it didn't reach her eyes.
An oversplit in her leap there, a twirl and toss here...
Yes, she was famous. The most wonderful performer of her generation. However, she was so easily irked now. A living time bomb, if you may. She knew Elliot had to be back, as his comrades were. The ones that had survived, actually, and they said he did not die.
All she did nowadays was perform, eat, and sleep. Really, she barely ate anything, but she was forced. After every performance, she simply went to bed. Her life was every-going torture. Elliot hadn't found her yet. He had promised, hadn't he?
Nikoletta decidedly pulled out some clothes and a coat after this particular performance. A walk around outside wouldn't harm anything...
After she strolled around the town, she went around the house. In a secluded area out back, a brass box was sitting there. Sighing, she brought it back with her. Hiking up to her room, she fiddled with the intricate designs. A small tune played every time she move a panel into the right place. Gradually the melody increased until there was just one beat missing. Finally, a star type part slid up and turned, setting itself down so that the box was disproportionate.
The room tiles turned negative, the shadows turning gray in the bluish light. And then a tall, looming figure appeared, stationed at her doorway.
"The box. You opened it, I came."
His voice was deep and regal, about an octave lower than her Eliiot's had been. Could it have been him?
A small shriek escaped her lips as the man's appearance was revealed. He was adorned in leather, a cassock type of skirt at the bottom. At the chest, there were six wounds, and the skin was pulled back. It was sewn into the leather, which was cut so uniquely to show the wounds themselves. But that was not the worst.
His skin was deathly pale. His head was bald, and deep cuts lined his whole head, forming a grid-like pattern. At each intersection, a straight pin was driven into the skull. It, quite frankly, absolutely frightened her.
But his eyes, they were pure black, no color evident in the dark depths. But it all reminded her of someone.
"Elliot?" She timidly asked. A flicker of something passed through his dark eyes.
"I remember, yes," he shortly said.
Gaining more courage, she went on. "It's me, Nikoletta! Remember me?"
His facial expression changed drastically. "Nika?"
Nikoletta smiled slowly. "Yes?"
"If you love me as you said you did, come with me and be what I am. A Cenobite, we are forever living! Please, Nika, you will come with me either way, but I do not want you to be eternally trapped in Hell!"
She faltered. Was she really going to accept? Her mind and heart said yes, but her logic said no. However, Elliot said he would have to have taken her anyway...
Stepping closer to him, she brushed her fingers over his pins. "Yes," she breathed. "I'll stay be your side...oh, Elliot, I've found you!"
Elliot grinned, but it quickly went away. "I am sorry, Nika. There is a lot of pain involved. I shall try to make it short."
With that, Nikoletta watched as he gestured his two fingers toward her... and a large chain stabbed through her chest. She stared at it in shock before falling onto the ground. Elliot looked away, and reconfigured the box. Everything vanished.
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Elliot Spenser, known as the Lead Cenobite or Pinhead, gazed at his lover's prone form. There were no marks on her young body. Her eyes were peacefully shut, and Pinhead soaked up the mental image. This would be last time he himself saw her like this.
He watched with morbid fascination as Leviathan dug two thin tunnels into her lower stomach area. Handing him a gold chain (gold was Nika's favorite), he looked at her skin, which was quickly turning into a deathly pale, bluish shade. Leviathan weaved the chain through the two wounds, letting it hang in front.
Pinhead had already dressed her in a leather uniform, quite like his. The skirt was more prominent on hers, and there was intersecting pieces of leather at her torso, revealing her flat stomach. The top half covered her breasts and had long sleeves that actually formed a glove type covering on her index and ring fingers. There was a tall covering more towards the back of her neck. Why, Elliot didn't know.
Leviathan had flipped her over, and made a large wound in her back, not unlike two of his chest wounds combined. The outfit was intricately cut there, too. Then, he did the most heartwrenching thing. Every single strand of Nikoletta's hair was cut. She was beautiful and bald.
Leviathan poked her, and she stirrred, her eyes opening. Feeling her new clothing, she moved her hands around to feel the wounds. And her lovely soprano voice screamed.
A nail was held up against her nose, and a telekentically controlled hammer pounded it straight through. Pinhead was drowning in her screams, and he started to take satfisfaction from it. This would be his second-in-command, his first general. Blood streamed down her face, down her long, lovely neck...
And suddenly a knife made a cross shape on her throat. Leviathan, his god, flicked the knife, tearing out her voice box. Her spine was faintly visible, and several wires came a pulled the flesh back, making her look like a medical example. That is, if she wasn't alive and screaming. A large wire frame appeared, piercing her upper mandible and holding the wires in place.
She was wildly thrashing now, and Leviathan left. Elliot rushed over, firmly grabbing her wrists.
Her eyes were squinting. "You!"
"I, Nikoletta. But, you cannot be called Nikoletta again...at least, not in 'public'. As the second cenobite, the first female, and my second-in-command, they will all know you as Female Cenobite, the High Priestess of Hell."
"What? I...I come out of the box, like you do?" Her hands scrambled up to her still bloody throat. "My voice!"
Pinhead sighed. "Leviathan, our god, removed your voicebox with the cut."
"Oh."
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"Female, come! Someone has opened the box!"
The Female Cenobite strut down the hallway, passing Leviathan's daughter. Angelique reached only to her waist, and she had tugged on her skirt.
Squatting down to her height, she said, "What?"
"Mr. Pinhead says that this soul may be the next cenobite!"
"Oh, really, Princess? Thank you, but I need to go. Maybe I can chat when we come back!"
She rushed off to Pinhead, who was gazing at the portal. He pointed. "There, a man with perverse pleasure. He will be next."
"I will still retain my position, right?"
"Of course, Nikoletta. Now come, Mr. Laslo has some catching up to do."
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Yay, my first Hellraiser fic. Like I said, I've never seen a Female/Pinhead pairing. If any of you have, please give me the link. It's not as fun writing something and reading your own work than reading someone else's ideas! REVIEW! Pleaaaaaaaaaaassssseeeeee!