"Such an unauthentic ruler you are."
Those words continuously replayed in his mind. Every time he slept, IF he could in this abysmal, disgusting cave. Those words would echo, and he'll die knowing that he is not the true ruler of Nemesis, of the Dark Moon, of the Black Moon clan. Because of a woman he deemed as an animal who couldn't control rage. Disguised as a seductress, or what people of the Earth and Silver Millennium call a femme fatale.
He grimaced, his hands tied back with shackles that were attached to the soggy brick wall. His brother was shrieking in his sleep, traumatized. The blue prince, Saphir, was always someone who followed him obediently. And because of that, it was foolish of him to play the hero. His reckless actions caused him to have a cut throat, which wasn't deep enough to kill him, but enough to cause him pain whenever he turned his head or speak.
Demande glanced at the ceiling. Closed his eyes.
"Prince Demande," a voice all too familiar spoke. Laced with the usual grimness no matter whether he was talking about something positive or negative. "I have ideas about where the Maleficent Crystal should be placed."
Wiseman appeared before him at his throne, where he sat in front of the Black Crystal. Demande, who was drinking his expensive wine and was about to rest. Though eyes were shut, he opened one eye, with mild irritation. There was always a dreary aura around him, that creeped everyone out of the clan, except for Demande himself. He was never frightened so easily, especially in someone like the Wiseman's presence. Saphir was writing in a journal several yards away, something he did to pass the time other than have conversations with his older brother. Demande took a peek at it once; it was nothing but sonnets and poetry.
"Yes, Wiseman," the white-haired Prince sighed, taking a last sip of his wine. The crystal ball that appeared before Wiseman glowed up, where then a holographic image of the Sailor Soldiers was visible. Only one of the beautiful 5 soldiers caught his eye. He frowned, narrowing his eyes. "What is this?"
"The Soldiers are in search of the Rabbit, as well as the future King, and in amidst of the panic they are in, they have carelessly left the future. Such fools," the shadowy figure chuckled. "This is where we must strike before they arrive on Earth. They will ruin everything otherwise."
"So we place a Maleficent Crystal?" the blue-haired asked, expectingly; there was absolutely no hint of excitement in his tone. Wiseman stopped hovering his long, slender black hands that were bony and wrinkled.
"Master Saphir, are you underestimating this mission we must take?" Wiseman sounded aggravated with the blue-haired prince's incredibly rebellious, stubborn moods he had to deal with. Demande stood up a bit in his seat, rubbing his temples.
"No, but I feel like this is a very lengthy process to what should have done a long time ago, which was attack the past and KILL the Rabbit, not use her!" Saphir spat, sounding even more annoyed than he did before. He folded his arms, furrowing his brows. "The soldiers were let free, Esmeraude and Rubeus were both destroyed in the process UNSUCCESSFULLY trying to stop them, may I add, and how many more Droids do we need to send to realize what we're doing is absolutely superfluous?!" In contrast to his impatient, often defiant brother, Demande eyes flickered with interest. Seeing the beautiful woman with twin buns and blonde hair cascading down her shoulders to her waist made him hunger after her even more than before. Wiseman did not flinch at his tone. He always considered the blue prince to be even more of a pain in the ass than Demande himself. It was interesting how both of them were considered antithesises of each other; Saphir was always following by the book and analyzed situations carefully while on the other hand, Demande would act on an impulse based on his emotions. And yet, they both possessed stubbornness.
"Calm down Saphir," Demande ordered.
"Nii-san, please consider these. You don't find anything wrong with the notion that we have achieved nothing but aggravate the Soldiers against us even more?" Saphir retorted. Demande glared at him for deliberately disobeying.
"Do not rush into things. Haste makes waste." Wiseman explained calmly, raising one hand. "My dear Rabbit, appear before me!"
A flash of magenta, and the air was of a freesia fragrance. Appeared was a woman, around Demande's age. Twin trails of pink hair flowed gracefully, tied above with cone-shaped buns. She had a sheer silk covering on what appeared to be a long black dress, which would've been modest if there weren't slits on each side, showing long legs and her smooth, cream-colored thighs. She was paler than her "original" self- what did the Soldiers call her? Chibusa? She had donned a choker with diamonds on them, as well as cuffs. The mark of the Black Moon, a black moon upside down, was visible beneath her bangs, which were curled towards each other like tiny moons. A shawl flowed around the woman, who looked on to the group with a smirk. Particularly Wiseman.
A dark mirror image of the woman Demande lusted for. But she was not the same. She will never be the same.
"I have been called," the woman said, her satin high heels clacking as she approached Wiseman. The small smile on Demande's face diminished; he looked at her with disregard. Though not explicitly said, it always seemed as if she was in charge of operations and how things worked in the grand palace. Almost making Demande feel as if he was second-rate; that all he had to do was stand by and do whatever he was told by her. "Wiseman," she smiles, her eyes gleaming. They were red orbs, resembling spinels that Demande would admire and adorn the woman's dress with, who escaped the castle with her accursed lover. He would curse at himself ever since, and the thought still ignites fury to him. It fuels his obsession even more.
The sight of her agitated him. She was smug, condescending. As if they were nothing but insects, but she would look on to Wiseman with great reverence oddly enough. He was only a guide, a fortuneteller, to guide us to salvation: which would be the destruction of the blue planet. Saphir and I were the ones to be respected, but were nothing more than tantrum throwing children in her eyes. We all had the mark of the Black Moon, so we were to be treated with great honor. And yet….
"Please lead Saphir down in the Black Crystal's Reactor, and help it flourish with energy so Nemesis expends!" Wiseman stated, before disappearing. Saphir straightened up, looking suspiciously at the woman. If there was anyone who had greater cynicism of this supposed Queen of Darkness, it would be him. Demande narrowed her eyes, but did not say anything. "Come with me Saphir," her voice didn't seem to contain any malice as typical, which caught Saphir by surprise. And to some extent, Demande too, but he remembered she was driven into darkness. That manipulation and coercion were two of the tactics she was best with. Demande threw a suspenseful glance at his younger brother who didn't notice, but his arm was grabbed.
Then she looked over to Demande, her expression unreadable, before teleporting away.
Demande scowled. He has never felt so much scorn for a woman as he did now.
Day by day she would try to rival the Queen, the object of Demande's desires, in being a better ruler passively. She wouldn't admit it, but it was obvious to all, even to Saphir. Her laugh was always bitter and sent people into discomfort (though not to the extent as Esmeraude's laugh); it had contained nothing resembling the sweetness or warmth of the "original", as Demande would like to put it best, Queen. Her movements were erratic instead of orderly; she had a foul temper. Though a "grown" woman, mostly due to Wiseman's powers, sometimes her adulthood would fluctuate. And that there were still childlike qualities dwelling in her personality. However, they contained no innocence that a child would possess: they were enhanced by impulsivity. The anger Black Lady would often show was no way in comparison to the fury the original Queen had in her eyes, back when he faced her for the first time. There was a coldness to her orbs; as if her life was the only thing that mattered the most instead of a planet's. No sense of warmness or purity, just like the Queen of the White Moon. Full of resent, hatred and, perplexingly, regret.
However, no one ever dared to speak of the original Queen's name in front of Black Lady's presence: Neo Queen Serenity. Saphir once made that mistake, and he was severely injured by her fury. She had thrown a bolt of dark energy towards Saphir who was sent flying across the room with great force. It was Rubeus and Esmeraude who aided him to recovery, that is, right before they were annihilated too. She definitely was a child, throwing fits and having the most irrational outbursts.
However, Demande and Saphir kept quiet about the deaths of their comrades. Not out of apathy, but they had to keep their guard on what was actually going on behind Wiseman's ploys.
To soothe Demande's anger, he thought of the Queen. Though short-lived, he remembered her presence in the castle. While she was unconscious, he touched her skin, tracing his fingertips from her stomach to her thighs before undressing her. How soft and delicate her skin was; her hair had the scent of milk and honey. He redressed her to a dress more fitting to his pleasing eye: white silk gown, but was adorned with golden plates and jewels. It revealed her figure, her soft breasts and collarbone, far more than her sailor uniform or the original dress she wore in the future. She had worn only the finest pearls Demande had given her.
When she was angry and had glared at him the way the Queen did once in the future, however, all sense of her beauty was lost. She did so the moment he appeared before her. There was coldness, vengefulness, a side he never thought he would see of a supposed benevolent ruler. Which only reinforced his belief that the people of the White Moon were villains and calculating people, tricking others to follow their path of supposed salvation. The time where she bitterly wept for her lover, Endymion, and her comrades, she was still beautiful to Demande. It was the cry of a lamb, helpless and caught by a hunter's trap. She had ripped off the pearl necklace and bracelet Demande had, thrown it across the room, in rage and desperation. Screamed every night for someone to save her, anyone. These cries translated to her being powerless. It would soothe Demande; that this Queen who had all the power was as weak, probably weaker, than the clay Droids Saphir would make, before him. It was a sign of her submission. That she was his. And there's nothing he could do.
Or so he thought.
The white-haired Prince set his grail down. And of course, Black Lady was just some poor man's Serenity. He could never settle for something that didn't meet his expectations, even the daughter of the ruler who looked just like her.
He had a feeling Black Lady had the same idea about Prince Demande. The feeling must have been mutual, as she had kidnapped Sailor Moon's – no, Serenity's – lover, Tuxedo Mask. Or Endymion. She seduced him, and with a kiss on his lips, he fell under her spell. That not even Sailor Moon, the legendary soldier, could possibly tear off. He would roll his eyes when the black haired King of the future followed her demands to the word. How Serenity could settle for this weak-willed human, he will never know. How he bowed and kissed her future daughter's hand, who had a severe Electra complex.
Demande inhaled, shutting his eyes tightly. He hated Endymion, he hated her, and he found himself not trusting of Wiseman. What will be his and Saphir's fate?
"Demande," a distant voice appeared. Demande looked up, wondering who it could be. It was a Droid, the figure of a woman with long black hair. Shapeless. Just a generic Droid, who bowed down gratefully and out of respect. "Black Lady summons you to the Reactor."
"For what?" Demande's voice was sharp, which didn't make the emotion-void Droid flinch.
"She has not told me, your Highness, other than she must speak with you. And that it is urgent," the Droid spoke matter-of-factly. The prince raised an eyebrow. What could she possibly want? The Droid also added, "Master, she says it's very important. Something that relates to you." Demande narrowed his eyes. What was she up to?
"Fine," the Prince huffed. The Droid vanished. He sat up so suddenly, that the grail shook on the table. Fell on the ground, and shattered into pieces. Broken glass and droplets of the crimson wine met his feet.
"I'm here," Demande said briskly, sounding annoyed. "What is it that was so pertinent to summon me here?" He heard a giggle. She stepped out of the shadows. Behind her was something clouded; Demande couldn't make sense of what exactly it was, but it appeared to be someone sitting. Black Lady did not move out of the way at first, but when she did, it was hardly visible to the eye.
Black Lady walked towards him with a sly grin on her face. "Yes, Prince of the Black Moon. It is urgent." There was a tube of lipstick in her palm. The Reactor seemed to have been functioning normally. What was there need to be done about the Reactor? Demande wondered. Demande crossed his arms. Glared at her.
"This better be quick, I would really rather not waste my time with you," he remarked crossly, folding his arms. The woman nonchalantly applied the lipstick, perfectly blending the velvety maroon material upon her natural pink lips. Her gaze was still fixed on him though, and for some reason or another, Demande found it rather unsettling. She was smiling in a sly way, but her stare was dark. Meaning there was definitely nothing positive she will say or do.
"Likewise, my Prince," she said calmly. Demande furrowed his brows. He was still trying to make sense of what was exactly behind her, which now was squirming and wriggling around. "I'm here to make a preposition for you. And well, let's just say if you don't agree to it, you'll lose something very valuable to you." Demande's expression was immobile, but his mind was overflowing with questions and curiosity as to what she meant.
"Valuable?" Demande repeated. All the woman did was giggle at him some more, which escalated. "What's so funny?" he demanded. "What are you trying to pull this time?"
"Let's just say I want to tie up loose strings, dear Demande. I've noticed you and your brother, Saphir, have been….not acting the way you should be as we expect you to be," she explained, a twinkle in her eyes, stifling another giggle. Demande understood the vague statement she was making: Saphir and he were right all along. They were nothing but loose strings to this woman. But who was "we?"
"Excuse me?" he asked bitterly, wanting her to explain though not to clarify. He wanted her to say it with the arrogance she always had in her voice, so he had a good reason to strangle her to death and leave for dead in the prison below the palace. He clenched his fists, but surprisingly, she didn't say anything. She capped the lipstick she was applying earlier, snapped her fingers and then the shadowy figure that was behind her was revealed. Demande gasped at the sight, his jaw almost dropped in shock.
Saphir was in a chair, a mock throne chair. He was however, chained to it. His wrists and ankles were both glued to the chair by shackles. But that's not what disturbed the white haired Prince the most. There were…. cuts. Gashes here and there. On his face, neck, forehead. As if someone took a knife to it. There was a large slash from the left side of his forehead down to his eye and cheek….. It was still bleeding. The younger man was gagged with some thick ductape, and he was squirming a little bit desperately to get out. His screaming was muffled; there were tears running down his face not from devastation but with incredible agony and fury.
"Saphir!" Demande cried, stepping one foot towards him. He was frozen in his position, in shock. Black Lady did not flinch but seemed to be amused and delighted at Saphir's only brother's response. Demande's face whipped at her, and with blind rage he lunged at her, with his strong hands aiming for her frail neck. She stood there calmly without flinching, while she raised a hand and Demande was deflected by a bolt of dark energy, the same kind she had once used against Saphir. It sent him flying against a pillar; Saphir's eyes widened in horror, that not even Demande could possibly face this monster disguised as a seductress. The pillar, made of very hard marble, cracked slightly.
Demande struggled to get up. His ankle felt twisted, and he was almost certain he sprained his wrist too. He yelped in pain. Yep, definitely sprained, he thought to himself in dismay. The pink haired woman simply stood there, amused at the sight of the male prince being bested by a woman. "Now, we're going to have a civil conversation Demande. Without you attempting to hurt me." Demande looked up, and there was something very rare in his eyes that hardly no one has seen, not even Saphir. His usual calm demeanor was diminished, almost as if this person wasn't Demande. There was hot-blooded anger, hatred and vengeance in his violet hues. Black Lady chuckled, remarking, "Ah, Demande. There you are. That's the animal instinct I was trying to spark in you. To finally be visible. Something you could never control." Demande didn't falter at her words. He weakly stood up, using the pillar as support.
"How dare you, to do that to my own kin," he gritted his teeth. "Is this a trap of some sort? Why involve Saphir, my only brother, into this?" He looked at Saphir, with incredible remorse. Saphir returned a look that didn't particularly convey malice, but embarrassment. "What in the devil is this about, Rabbit?" Demande angrily slammed his fist against the pillar.
Black Lady only shrugged, and then raised her hand only to slowly bring it to herself. Demande found himself moving involuntarily. What was this…? He wondered in horror. It resembled his Third Eye's ability to manipulate a body or object. How did this Rabbit – or when- possess this? She motioned him to be at her feet, two yards away. She then strut to the younger man who was bound and held hostage, her oscillating hips that caught Demande's eye. So much like Serenity, and yet so phony…
Rrrrripp. Saphir yelped as she tore off the tape without warning. Demande, with wide eyes, was grateful that he was not murdered at least. But he was severely injured, with wounds that were inflicted intentionally. Black Lady flicked the lipstick in the air, which transformed to a sharp dagger. Held it at Saphir's throat.
"Now, unless you want him to bleed to death, and then you right after, I suggest you comply with my request in a humble manner," she calmly ordered, and with a grin, she slid the sharp side of the dagger to nick Saphir's throat. He shrieked, the blood darker as she glided it against his skin. Demande's eyes widened, and then promptly tried to halt her, "Don't!"
She stopped, looking satisfied that he was now groveling at her feet. Her heels clicked on the hard surface, which made echoes throughout the entire chamber. The blood trickled down to Saphir's shirt, which was battered and stained with blood. There was a yellow stain between his crotch of his white trousers; one could assume he urinated in great terror. Blood trickled down his neck, to his collar. She finally took off the weapon off him, looking at Demande, almost in a pensive way. Demande did not want to beg any more, as that would only be sweet music to this dreadful woman's ears. He glared at her, while Saphir looked at his older brother, his Nii-san, with pleading eyes.
"Oh, Demande. How I pitied you for a long time, so second-rate, so enthralled by the Queen's beauty to suddenly sway from plans," Black Lady sighed, licking the tip of the drenched knife. "You have been a nuisance to our plans. You and your brother! I thought that arrogant red haired man and the other obnoxious green-haired lady were bad enough, but you and Saphir?" She suddenly laughed, this time she couldn't contain herself. After she stopped, still giggling uncontrollably. "You THINK you're both the true rulers of this planet? Children aren't meant for the throne; if they can't even stick to original plans or rebel to Wiseman's will, then how could they possibly handle the power of the Black Crystal?!"
"Wiseman's will," Demande repeated, narrowing his eyes. "Wiseman is merely a fortune teller. Someone who is our guide. What will is this you speak of?" Black Lady remained motionless, and placed one hand on the hip.
"You are right Demande," she answered, nodding her head. "He is a guide. He is our Messiah. The person who will save us all from the wretched rule of the Phantom Silver Crystal! He will make this planet flourish! But," she suddenly stopped, her gaze fixated on the prince who could not move a muscle. "This is not why I called you here though." She straightened herself up, tilting her head to the side with a smirk. Demande stayed silent, looking down with his lip quivering in fury.
She continued, "Lowly scum like you don't need this power. You have already proved that by unsuccessfully keeping the Queen captive. And by failing to keep her Guardians captive for not even a week. You are not to be trusted with such a great responsibility. And I can end this topic by simply saying you're not even worthy to know what Wiseman and I have scheduled to destroy the blue planet, the Soldiers, the Queen, everything." Her face brightened, almost as with excitement at the thought. Such a child indeed…
"Everything will fall into the darkness, including the hateful Queen you desire so much! Have you ever considered," she knelt down to him, pulling his hair so that he can face her. Their faces were merely inches close. Her eyes were even more clouded and glassy than they do from a distance. "that maybe, you're not even good enough for the inferior enemy's ruler?" Demande clenched his teeth. "She rejects you: she has done time and time again. The only times you can control her is when you use your Evil Eye, but even that isn't powerful enough to keep her at bay! She sees you as nothing but a lowly creature, deserving of annihilation. And yet, you have a lust for someone who sees you as nothing more than an insect. Has it ever occurred to you that you perhaps are?"
Demande was tired of hearing all of this. He had known all this before, but the provoking and insults have gotten on his last nerve. "Rabbit-" he began angrily, his throat was tight and his swelling ankle was throbbing.
"I'm not finished, my dear Demande," she interrupted. Lack of manners, typical of the artificial replica of Neo Queen Serenity. "Ever since you were a child, when you were sexually abused by your father," Her voice lowered. She held up a shard of the Black Crystal. It was a dowsing device, the exact one Berthier used before her obliteration. Demande's heart stopped. How did she know…?
"You wanted control. Of some form. You were helpless and weak back then too; your mother disliked you because you were just some bastard child. The son of a King who raped his wife, the magnificent Lady Ivory. Saphir wasn't well liked either but he was pure to her, therefore was more considerate of him. And looked nothing like the King." The shard pointed upwards. She snickered, relishing Demande's horrified reaction. Saphir was motionless, not squirming as much before, but there was much shame on his face. "King Larimar, of course, would hurl you to the wall of the royal palace. Scream that you were useless and how you will never ascend to the throne." She spoke as if she was talking about the magnificent weather on Nemesis. Demande didn't want her to continue: of all people, SHE knew his true identity and past. He couldn't bear it. He was so numbingly speechless that not a word can come out, though.
But of course, she was merciless with her stinging choice of words. "You were the reason that your mother, once a servant in the palace, was now married to her nightmare. Sex out of wedlock was unacceptable, so of course she was unwillingly wed to the person who has scarred her the most. A few of her physical traits, much to her relief, were passed down to your younger brother. He is the one who resembles the beautiful lady," Black Lady flicked her hand towards Saphir. Demande found it increasingly difficult to contain his rage. "While her bastard child was a reflection of the person she abhorred the most. For that, she could never love you. She encouraged the beatings by her father, and delighted in the rape of a person who was the replica of her attacker. You only found solace in your younger brother, who then began to follow you like some sort of dog…" Black Lady had a very pleased demeanor, almost feeding on to the submissive prince's darkness. "Until…." She dramatically paused intentionally.
"You poisoned both of them. Your parents," she exclaimed. "had consumed rat poison in the chalices where they would drink their wine in. Saphir had helped you remove any evidence that traced back to you both. The crime was ruled as voluntary manslaughter or possible suicides, and yet the murderers were never found!" She mockingly stated the last statement with an air of surprise, relishing the subservient man's anger. "I wonder who were they?"
"You're vile," Demande blurted out. He was seething and sat straight up, ignoring the pain of his ankle. "How could you understand or dare to play psychoanalysis on me? The daughter of a goddamn privileged Queen of the Moon, and the King of the Earth. Who supposedly adored you. You fucking vermin." He had no filter on his words; he's had enough and all the insults he's kept to himself about Black Lady for a very long time. The pink odango haired woman's expression diminished in surprise.
"I see you, all the time, trying to be like Serenity," he spat, his nails digging to his knees. "The way you walk, you speak, you envied her. You could never admit it either." He suddenly began laughing, and Black Lady's features distorted in anger. "You even stole her lover, BRAINWASHED him because you KNOW he could never adore you the same way he treasured Serenity. Or the legendary guardian Sailor Moon. To this day you pretend that he loves you, when all you did was put a molding spell on him!"
Black Lady was startled at how the tables were turnt, but she crossed her arm in irritation. "So the pot calls the kettle black. Do you not remember the Queen refusing your advances? How you used your Third Eye to force her to submit to you?" However, Demande shook his head. The anger was gone and it was replaced with maniacal longing to defeat this woman.
"Because the supposed Future King is nothing compared to the gorgeous ruler, the goddess of the future Crystal Tokyo," Demande grinned, while Black Lady glared at him. Her eyes threatened him to shut up, to silence himself. Her nose flared. But Demande practically didn't even care anymore; he was on a roll. "You see, Rabbit, men and women are different. I do not care about the concept of falling in love anymore. Forced love, willing love, it doesn't matter. I want her in my possession, to kneel to me. She is the user of the Phantom Crystal, the stone that changes the fate of the universe. She is a goddess; the goddess I want groveling to my feet. So I can be reassured about my power, and her place." He snickered. "A trophy, if you will." He marveled at how he managed to anger the woman who had struck him physically and mentally. "You're the poor man's Serenity-"
CRACK! Demande saw stars, which faded away. He winced; there was a burning mark on his cheek. There were tears of fury on Black Lady's face, while she quickly withdrew her hand. At his psychoanalytic ways to torture her. To remind her why she isn't what she thinks she is. She could not bear his abuse, much like how he couldn't bear hers. Saphir screamed his name, horrified. For a split second, Demande almost forgot his brother was still tied onto the chair.
"How dare you compare me to that damned whore!" she screamed, stomping her heel on his hand. He screeched in pain, while she only dug the pointy heel deeper, almost piercing his palm. "You underestimate me, my potential in wiping away all beings of the Earth! Everything belongs to me, the Queen of Darkness. I could never forgive you, you bastard-" She removed her heel, clenching her fists and the dagger in her hand. "I would kill you, but that's exactly what you want." She turned around, but looked back at her shoulder, with a spiteful glance. "I want to enjoy myself, by hurting you." Demande glowered, though the smirk was fading. He was now uncertain what she had in mind. She was going to use means possibly worse than death. What could it be….?
She called someone's name. The future King's name: Endymion. He walked towards her, then knelt down on one knee. Kissed her hand, but looked up at her, then Demande, with opaque eyes. The mere sight of him physically repulsed Demande, but why did she summon him here? What could he do to Demande that the Queen could do worse?
"Take that lowly cretin away," the woman demanded, eyes flickering at Saphir. "If he resists, gag him and put him out of his misery. I need some time alone with this….jester of a supposed prince." Endymion mechanically stood up, not faltering at the lady's harsh demeanor. This was the supposed kind Prince who the original Queen fell in love with; Demande thought he would've been bestowed with great power from Serenity, and here he was, defected and turned into something less than a Droid.
Endymion had walked halfway to Saphir, but suddenly he staggered. Black Lady's eyes narrowed, then she let out a slight groan, as if this was a familiar dismaying occurrence. He tried to straighten himself, walked again. But not even within two feet of Saphir that he dropped for a second time, like an injured animal. He was clutching his chest, as if in pain.
"….U….sa….ko…." the Prince of the Earth whimpered, but the possessed man tried to hold himself together. His hands were on his tanned face, his features wrinkling in terror and confusion. "Serenity….where are you?" He let out a grunt, as if he was being impaled. Black Lady lips curled into a scowl. But her posture stiffened, as if this was a display she did not anyone to see. She walked towards the struggling King of the future Crystal Tokyo, placing her hand on his shoulder gently.
"It's me, Serenity," Black Lady's voice was calm but it was controlled and had a hint of humiliation. She was feigning it, just like Demande had known. "Your daughter, Usagi Small Lady Serenity. Your one true love." She brought herself close to the King's face, trying to get him to look at her. Her eyes locked on his expression, but he was not looking up. His hand was on his forehead, as if it was burning.
"No…..Usako….Chibiusa…where are you?" he stammered, breathing rapidly. "Usako…..please….save…..I can't….." Black Lady cupped his chin with her hand, and brought her lips to his. Liplocked and silencing him, not keen to hear any more. Demande wanted to know what he was trying to say, or who his destined lover and Guardian wanted to save. Himself? The Rabbit? The both of them? Was he this powerless, that he had to rely on a woman or his future wife to be a savior?
When the Rabbit's lips disconnected from this unmasked vigilante, he stopped struggling. The jaded eyes were back, but this time, possibly in fully renewed control. He stood up without much hesitation, stared at Saphir with desolate eyes. "Endymion, you have been faltering more than usual." She frowned, picking at something in his breast pocket of his suit. It was a shard of the Black Crystal. "Is this not enough to do my bidding…?" she murmured, examining the stone in slight dismay. Endymion picked up Saphir without ease and he could hardly fight back. Throwing him over his shoulder, the only words Demande heard was Demande's name, begging him to save everyone of the clan. They both disappeared into the darkness.
"You're pathetic," Demande spoke suddenly, with a smirk on his face. She whipped her head back, narrow red slits looking down on the Prince. "Do you know the phrase 'down the rabbit hole?' The phrase that Earthlings use? I thought it was stupid that Sailor Moon and the wretched Guardians would use such a phrase against this clan. But now I know what they mean." His face distorted into a sneer, taunting the woman further who glared at him, daring him to say any more drivel. "Have you ever wondered why you were called the Rabbit by even the Silver Millenium? Jeered at since the moment you were born?"
Black Lady said nothing, her eyes fixated on him, glowering. She wasn't sure why she couldn't answer what this insect was asking her. What was this stinging feeling she had? Why wasn't she making him cough out blood or puncturing his ribs and lungs? "You're easily manipulated. You're vulnerable and hungry for power. You wanted to be so much like your mother: beautiful, powerful, and loved universally." Demande smiled. "That's why…you turned to even a shady fortune-teller. Your desire was so strong, since you were trapped in a child's body for centuries. You grew impatient that you could never ascend the throne with an immature body and mind. And finally, you got what you wanted but at a price." He couldn't help but feel immensely satisfied of himself. He got the last laugh. He was almost at peace, despite the injuries.
He paused, trying to regain his posture and thoughts. He wasn't finished yet though. "You can never be her, though, you know."
"Shut up," she suddenly croaked, tight anger welling in her throat. Her back was facing him though, but he could sense her breaking.
"The Black Crystal is nothing before the Silver Crystal. You can easily be annihilated and the only thing you would leave behind is your pride and lack of dignity."
"Stop," she turned around fully, flashing a dark threatening look at him. She clenched her teeth and balled her fists on the sides.
"That love for the future Prince is not comparable to the original Queen's love for him."
"You're lying."
"Even just now, was enough proof that he does not love you. He loves his wife far more than a fleshy sack he brought into the world."
"No…"
"You're not loved here either. Wiseman will throw you away as soon as he's done with you. You don't love this Earth king either. You only want what the Queen has."
"You're wrong, shut up!"
"Poor Rabbit, not even cared for by the person who granted her awakening. Not wanted by her own parents, her royal family, no one. Nothing but a faulty person who is all talk but no show." Demande chuckled, closing his eyes but opening them again. Grinning at the former White Moon heir who had intense animosity sketched all over her pale face. "She thought she finally gained what she truly wanted, only to be just a replica of the true Queen- GYAAA!" His sentence was abruptly disrupted and he flew towards the chair Saphir formerly was confined to. He felt dizzy at the sudden force, groaned and looked up slowly, suffering from whiplash. It was too painful to sit straight. He felt something tighten at his ankles, like shackles. He tried to breathe a bit, only for a slender hand to tightly grasp his windpipe. Manicured violet nails dug inside his skin, and his chin was raised by her hand. To forcefully look at her, but not the same way she had solemnly looked at the future Crystal Tokyo king. There was an increased level of hate in her eyes, abhorrence, and hauntingly enough, not human. They were of an agitated wolf, who was angered by his prey attempting to attack him.
"You think you know everything, huh?" she said quietly, pulling his hair while their faces were inches close. Her tone did not contain a hint of mercy or sadness. He winced, but his orbs wavered towards hers, blinking. "I should crush you. I could kill you in a variety of excruciating ways." Her grip on his throat did not loosen. "I could crush your windpipe, so you could never dare speak another word of venom to me again." She narrowed her eyes, at him struggling for him to loosen her grip. He gritted his teeth, wanting to fire back with something. He could only glare at her, at the eyes that she never inherited from her mother or father. Red, like a species of a rabbit. He struggled to somehow think of a breed of rabbit that only had red eyes. Were they albinos? The rabbits who were blind?
Why did he think of this suddenly, and not instinctually about this insane woman trying to kill him?
"I could smash your skull against the Dark Crystal Reactor, and then pierce your skull with my blade. That is, if you even have any fragments left," she chuckled lightly, as if she was talking about an upcoming ballroom dance. Still, her eyes never left Demande's amethyst gaze. "Or what about me killing your brother first? He was the one who helped you become a Prince in the first place. He follows you around without question. I would burn him alive, after setting rabies-infected dogs on him first. After all, him being alive is what you really want-"
"Don't you dare hurt him," he interrupted, with a stark expression worn. Yet, he was feeling some sort of terror. He was not sure what this woman is going to do. Of course, it would be something beyond humiliating and excruciating agonizing but what? The anticipation was killing him.
"Of course," she said plainly, with a tiny sneer. "That's the last request you'll ever get, and what I'm about to do will be a constant reminder of your place. Be grateful for my generosity." Demande felt uncertain by her jeering on what she would do; the time was killing him. He was never a patient man, admittedly. "Go ahead and kill me, but my words will live on, Rabbit." The woman did not flinch at his toxicity or abuse. She backed off a bit, then raised her leg, showing off her thighs. There was a black bandelette with complex and beautiful lace work. She lifted her dress up a bit, and Demande's expression turned from aggravation to confusion. His breathing slightly hitched; he cursed himself for it.
"Men can be repulsive," she suddenly said, absentmindedly tracing the band strapped to her thigh with her fingernails. "They want, like animals. Want is sometimes worse than need. A desire for something, that could be so strong that you will resort to anything, even a 'replica.'" She held up the dowser she had in her possession before but she gave it one last brooding look before carelessly tossing it aside. "Need is something that you need to survive with. Food, water, shelter. Wants are nothing. Conquests, trophies, maybe the lavish meal a restaurant cooks. And yet, men will resort to anything to get their desires. Even if it meant straying from the true goal." She steps towards him again. He was quiet, blinking as her heels clacked.
"I don't know what you're planning on doing, but whatever you do, make it quick, because I'd rather die now than continue hearing your ear-grating voice," Demande said curtly, though there was mild fear that he hoped didn't betray his voice. She just giggled, until she hovered over and completely unexpected, sat on him. Or rather, straddled him, facing down on him. She was several inches shorter than him but here she was, leveled and face to face intimately. Demande flinched, then tersely spoke, "What in the devil do you think you're doing?" Her crotch was grinding against his. He could feel her soft silk panties through the material of his pants. What shocked him the most is his bodily reaction to her skin, her clothes on him: he could feel his blood rushing. His breathing almost became uneven when she slightly bucked her hips to get more stable. He tried to keep himself together; he did not want to give in to this woman.
"You told me I'm simply a replica of Serenity," she purred, stroking his hair gently with a flash in her eyes. "What I'm about to do will probably make you rethink that." She bucked her hips again, letting out a snicker when a soft moan escaped Demande. His face was flushed. "G-get off of me! Don't touch me!"
"It doesn't sound like you don't want to be touched," she dipped her lips slightly to his neck, biting the skin around his collarbone. Demande was frozen in his seat. He could've moved his torso and arms voluntarily as his wrists weren't restrained, and yet, he didn't. He wasn't sure if he couldn't because of fear or because of the increasing lust sprouting. He didn't want this: her seduction or the primal feelings that were growing the more she touched and teased him. It was torture, even. He would rather be stabbed with a spear than give her any form of satisfaction or dominance. Both physical and emotional.
"There's no way you can convince me. Whatever this is that you're doing, you might as well halt," he spat, then shut his eyes tightly, when she sucked on his collarbone. Possibly to pacify him. Her teeth then grazed to his earlobe. Nibbled a small part of the earlobe where his Dark Crystal earrings were. "S-stop it," he grunted, consumed by desire. He was never a fan of lovemaking or passionate sex, or sex that gradually became rough. He was always an impatient man; a woman was always the tightest when she wasn't as aroused. For him, it was pleasurable, and it wasn't just physically pleasurable. He would feed off of the fear. He had a split moment of domination and power. This woman, of all people, yet was initiating sexual foreplay. Almost as if she was an experienced gutter slut, a nymphomaniac. Where was the hate and disdain she had for him? Why was she pleasuring him even in the smallest ways? And moreso, why was Demande's body reacting to this, whatever this was, positively; the same way he had when he abducted the future Neo Queen Serenity?
He let out a blood-curdling scream when something from his ear ripped. He almost could hear skin tearing. He was gasping and clutching to regain his breath. The pain was far too raw and unexpected; it caught him completely off guard. In front of him, to his horror, the Queen of Darkness had the Maleficent dark earring between her teeth. She grinned, spitting it out. There was some dark blood – HIS blood – and spittle tainted around her mouth and chin, but she lazily wiped it off with her hand. Nonchalantly, she held up the crystal, dangling it in front of the Prince's face. His earlobes were stinging; it seemed like he could never wear the pricey earrings that royalty wore ever again. That is, if he made it out alive.
"You don't deserve to wear these," she stated calmly, only to reach for the other earring until Demande whipped his head to the side, preventing her from doing so. He could not bear it the second time. The pain was too sharp; possibly more painful as it was the Maleficent earring, and not an ordinary glass bead.
"Demande," she cooed, kissing his neck. His body tensed, but he did not budge. He was not willing to comply. She brought her berry-colored lips to his ear, and promptly whispered, "You're an incompetent ruler. Always have. Give up. Grovel before me." Her breath chilled his ears, almost soothing to the sting of his torn earlobe. He began frantically struggling, trying to push her off. But he was still injured enough to not even shove her off in the slightest. He ignored the burning sensation his sprained wrists were giving him, and then grasped her hands. Held them firmly.
"I will not bow before you," he said bitterly. "Not to a repulsive second-rate Queen, especially." She raised an eyebrow at him actually trying to restrain her, but she returned to her gaze, vindictive and abysmally hateful. She feigned a mocking pout and a twinge of hurt in her lifeless eyes. He only glared at her wordlessly. He briefly remembered how the eyes of the Rabbit looked before this transformation. They were bright, lively, and curious. Sometimes, even selfishness and some form of longing. These eyes were no longer of a young child she once was and had little trace of her former self. There was lifelessness. Duller than a fake gemstone. They were beautiful eyes, no doubt about it, but it was haunting how they pierced through anyone. How they had a bad aura; the only traits that were ever left behind by her immature past life was some form of craving, and like stated before regret.
Often, he would hear wisdom from various people saying eyes were essentially the window to someone's soul. Often a cliché saying, but it was rather accurate. This woman, however, she had nothing in her eyes. All it did contain was resentment, anger and no hint of compassion. Was it worth it, to throw away your humanity for your desires?
Almost the same look as SHE had given him….
He screeched again when he was caught off guard and the second earring was promptly torn out. The bellow had echoed throughout the hall. The woman snickered, holding now the second shard of the crystal. Blood and tissue stained her porcelain hands, but this time she wasn't interested in wiping them off. Especially on her royal dress.
"If you loved the King, why are you doing this?" Demande spoke suddenly, in a desperate attempt to stop her somehow. She only looked at him with amusement, which indicated that it was futile.
"Stupid, foolish, childish Demande," she sighed heavily, shaking her head. "I thought you of all people would know that pleasuring you, even unwillingly," she reached down to his pants, her index finger toying with the zipper. Outlining his sex, with his clothing being the only barrier, "has nothing to do with love." She finished, her hand now cupping it gently. He tried not to groan louder, or at all, and tried to breathe normally. His senses were flailing; the amount of arousal was overwhelming to him already by her light touches and teasing. He would explode and lose himself if she continued on, escalating the pleasuring. Her intoxicating scent did not help at all; the fragrance of a feminine perfume consisting of freesia, roses and red wine. And an interesting hint of pomegranate. The fruit of Persephone, the goddess of the Greek underworld….
"I don't love you," she said bluntly, finally undoing his zipper of his trousers. They were stained with blood that was dripping from his earlobe. "I do, however, feel like I can relate to you. As absurd as it sounds." He looked at her with surprise at her unexpected statement; even more perplexing was there was some sort of solemn tone in her usual high pitched voice. She only half-smiled, with red slits as eyes staring at him. Like a mirror reflection.
"Relate to me? You're awfully facetious," Demande croaked, bursting into bitter laughter at the absurdity of her statement. She didn't waver, however, or twitch in annoyance. "What could YOU possibly know about how I feel or how I have lived?" he seethed, in escalating rage until his pants were finally undone. "You're nothing but a brat of the former Moon Kingdom. I was here long before you. I AM the authentic ruler of Nemesis." She only smiled her crooked smile. The kind of smile that always left Demande uncertain. She was dreadfully unpredictable, just like a child who has a tentative temperament.
"You weren't wanted. Or could ever grow age beyond what you are now," she said, almost thoughtfully. "If you think I was some sort of spoiled kid who played with plush animals and kids of the moon, you're wrong." She tugged off his boots impatiently, even when Demande tried to root his feet to prevent her from doing so. His heartbeat quickened its pace. "I have no friends, or allies. Or siblings. Unlike you," A sudden flash of an older woman with dark green hair and gorgeous fluorite-like eyes. An isolated Sailor Guardian, who holds a staff with an Orb on top, and guarding a mysterious door. Black Lady cringed, then sharply said, "You call me privileged, weak even, and yet, you're here in front of me. Being used as nothing more than a toy for myself. But at least you now know will soon what true isolation feels like." She buried the image of the mysterious Guardian in the back of her active conscience meekly.
"We're not alike," he glowered, insulted that this vile creature could even compare herself to him. Black Lady proceeded to undo his pants, after returning a similar but less harsh glare. For some reason or another, this aroused Demande even more. That look she would simply give him, it reminded him of her. He felt himself throbbing, but did his best to try to restrict himself. She hated him, and he hated her with a great passion.
"We are, but not in terms of power, of course," she explained, successfully taking off the trousers. At this point, Demande was bare legged and the only thing that covered him was his paper thin briefs. Which revealed his manhood aching and trying to escape the cloth. She smirked, and he couldn't help but feel humiliated. "Not bad, Demande, at least that's the only significant thing you have going for you." Her taunts fueled his desire to break out of her spell's control, hike up her dress, and fuck her til she couldn't even maintain respiration. He wanted her to scream in pain and in pleasure, and to tear her virginity that wasn't taken by the manipulated King yet. The thought of her glaring at him with half lidded eyes, fluttering and hurling insults at him at the same time while gasping made him want to release right on the spot. It was merely a fantasy, though. But he couldn't; it would be an embarrassment and he wanted her desperately to climax before he could. To show him he is stronger, has more endurance and doesn't give in to impulsions as much as he used to before.
She would be responsive and awake. Not so much like Serenity, who would only cry and give in easily. This time, a woman wanted him. Maybe not in the right sense, but wanted to take her right on the spot. He couldn't recall the last time he had this feeling after capturing Serenity. Sure, he would privately coerce Esmeraude, who was smitten to the Prince, to oral sex before her demise. He never thought of her that way other than someone from his clan; the feelings were always unrequited. She was great sometimes when she did him favors when no one was around, probably out of respect for the Prince's reputation. She was pretty and respectable, but he desired nothing but the best.
What was this feeling he had? It felt animalistic. Not human.
"Don't worry, my dear Prince," she snickered, undoing his coat now. "You won't be completely bare. The shirt can stay on. So can my dress, considering you don't deserve to even see my figure in its glory," she flipped her pink hair back. Her cool breath fanned against his hot skin, making his head spin. I don't want… he thought in desperation. I don't want her, but I need her at this moment… I can't…. I can't hold too long….
To him, need was always worse than want. He did not want to show her his arousal. He did not want to show her that she was driving him insane. That would mean she was on Serenity's level. It would only prove her right.
"What makes you think I'll fuck you that easily?" he remarked bluntly, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"You're not fucking me."
"What?" his lips grew numb.
"I'm fucking you." With that, she slid off the panties. "But of course, I'll prove to you first how much better I am than Serenity, and that I'm my own person." She got off him, then snapped her fingers. There was now a table in front of him, to his puzzlement. "What is this?"
She didn't say anything. Simply plopped on the table, which made a creaking sound and supported her small frame. She hitched up her dress, and she sat directly in front of him. Her eyes never left Demande's gaze; she reached for her entrance. Started to rub her sensitive spots, earning a sweet moan escaping her lips. Demande was stunned; he could not take off his gaze from her pleasing herself in front of him. To tease him. She closed her eyes, though finding self satisfaction in how Demande was watching her pleasure herself in front of his very eyes.
She closed her eyes, encircling her thumb on her clit gently, before sliding a slender finger inside her warm, moist entrance. Demande wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Why couldn't he tear his eyes away from this cockroach? She was nothing and subpar, and yet…..
She let out a moan, high pitched but so enticing. Breathy, and she bit her bottom lip, a smirk tugging on her lips. Her eyes were half lidded, fluttering as her fingers worked in and out of the orifice. She almost seemed too tight for her opening to accept her slim fingers, to the point where she had to wriggle one in. This made Demande gasp inaudibly himself; he was ACHING to be touched, or thrust his manhood inside the warm sweet hole. To rip her apart, to make her scream and then gagged afterwards.
Demande swore he was getting almost dizzy from the crazy provocation that was in front of him. Another thought came into mind: though subpar, she was still the daughter of the goddess he infatuated over. If he set aside his rose-tinted glasses, maybe he can still take pleasure in this without feeling remorse. After all, was she not supposed to be Serenity's successor? The future Sailor Moon?
"Damn it…." he cursed under his breath, his erection was now on full display. He could feel himself really hard without having to touch. Droplets of what looked like pre-release seed was on the thick head; glistening and his manhood was harder than ever. He tried to close his eyes, until her voice sharply stated, "Open your eyes, you lowly sack of shit." Demande turned his head towards her to glare at her menacingly, but his eyes were captured once again by her escalating her pleasure. Her fingers were pumping faster and with more rhythm, while she played with her clit. To Demande, it almost kind of impressed him. She seemed like the kind of woman who did not care for things like clitoral simulation. Women loved their flower to be played with for hours, but this woman wanted cock. Straight up cock and passionate thrusting that would make her scream.
She was on the edge, and she stiffened, almost letting out a cry. Demande could not bear it anymore; the tantalizing has proven to be too much for him. This little preview was only the beginning too and he was burning with powerful lust. She gushed from her sex, and her fingers were coated with her ejaculation. Not as thick as male ejaculation, but that didn't stop her from rising to her seat and smear some on Demande's lips.
"You should be blessed, really," she giggled, interjecting a finger inside his mouth. He didn't make much effort to block her finger with his teeth; he was so horny he couldn't think straight. She straddled him again, carefully positioning herself and guided his length, making a remark that she was right, and that she was most certainly better than Serenity. She led his manhood to her tight hole. And from there, Demande lost all his senses.
He wasn't sure what this feeling was. It was mixed with minor discomfort at first but interlaced with pleasure. He almost wanted to release her right there after he gasped; her tightness was unbelievable. Sure she was a virgin, but even when she was fully aroused she had a moment of dismay before sliding it in. She slowly and steadily finally lead it in.
Pure bliss followed minutes after. She rocked her hips to a steady rhythm, gasping every time she rocked herself back and forth. Her body was in full view; Demande found himself tearing the top bodice of her dress, revealing a strapless black lacy bra. He wanted to see more of her; her nipples were hardened through her dress. He knew she wasn't going to let him reveal herself entirely, but he tore the fabric enough to reveal a milky-colored breast, with little pink tips pointing out on her small light areolas. She wasn't small, but she certainly wasn't large in terms of chest size. She was almost…perfect, as Demande hated to admit himself. She was a good handful; he brought his burning wrists up. One to grab one side of her pelvis and the other squeezing her breast, emitting a moan of pleasure from her.
For a second, she almost sounded like Serenity, but her voice was dripping with desire. She quickened her pace, and he found himself burying his hands in her hair. Raising his own pelvis upwards, to fuck her from the bottom. She let out a squeal of pure bliss, unexpectedly not minding that his hands were entangled in her neatly coned buns and long waves of pink hair. She was now bouncing on top of him and her breasts were in sync, which stopped Demande from rocking her and made him shudder. She was not letting him have any control and he felt almost defeated. His gaze were on her; her eyes were closed, while she was biting her lower lip. Her fingers reached to her flower once again, tracing her most sensitive spot. There was a sensation building up over and over again in her lower abdomen, and she felt herself bursting every time. It was making her feel dizzy almost.
She stopped after finally screaming once again, panting. There was a scent of sweat from both of them, blood from Demande earlier, and her virginal blood on his thighs. Sweatbeads were rolling down here forehead, and he was almost stunned on how many orgasms she must've sent herself. Quite a number for a person who never coupled, especially as aggressive as she was. He could feel her contracting a numerous amount of times, and it sent him to a frenzy.
All he wanted to do right then and now to make her scream his name and then promptly strangle her. He was still rock hard, and she won this battle now. He fumed, while she was still trying to catch her breath not paying any heed to him though she was inches away from his face. She got up finally, sighing a bit. She staggered a bit from how rough she was in riding him, but straightened herself up. Fixed her bodice.
"Not quite how I envisioned my first time, to be fair, but you were a good pet to me. So it wasn't all too bad... for myself, that is," she snickered, still noticing her never finished and certainly did not want to go out of her way to help. Nothing was more amusing than him being blatantly denied an orgasm. He was almost shaking from anger yet in a strong daze. He was just so frustrated
He cannot and will not accept any responsibility for her torturing his brother. For torturing in the most excruciating and most humiliating ways. Her blood will be on his hands, and he will have the last laugh. Even if it meant costing his life at the end.
He will not stop at ANYTHING to assert his supremacy. Even Saphir who is usually rather pacifistic would be horrified, but he will also maybe understand. Hopefully.
"You are not an authentic ruler, and not even an authentic human being," she dropped the shards of the Black Crystal earrings to the ground, kicking them to the side. "You were damned from the day you were born. What a shame really, to have your past burrowing out in the light. To remind you of your true self." She licked her fingers, the sweet fluid that she extracted from herself eagerly. Still wearing that damned self-satisfied smirk. Demande was furious: he wanted to kill her slowly and painfully, but using her as a sex doll. Nothing more gratifying was on his mind than repeatedly raping her, making her scream and beg for his former mercy.
Black Lady was sliding her panties up her legs until there was a sudden sound of something shattering. It was like glass, and it was so NEAR, but Demande wasn't hurt and neither was Black Lady. She froze, and whipped her head around wildly. She wore an expression that would have left Demande dumbfounded: it was pure fear.
Demande found himself…free. He was no longer restrained from the spell. He gasped, eyes widening in confusion and relief. He could finally move his ankles and arms, and could rise from the chair. But before that, Black Lady was bewildered. Her eyes resembled the gaze of a deer whose eyes were caught in headlights.
He was finally at liberty and regained control of his form!
"T-that's impossible," she finally moved her lips, feeling herself absolutely terrified. She took a few steps back timidly, finally realizing the impact of what she has done. As if she was poking the head of a rabies-infested animal who broke free from his cage. And had bloodlust for his abuser. "How in the world-"
She immediately turned to run and teleport, but it wasn't long before Demande charged at the woman with great force. He tackled her to the ground, and for a brief moment, there was a struggle. She was resisting, trying to get him off her. She bit him, scratched him and used whatever means to push him off. But Demande felt no pain from her vain attempts to fend him off; she may claim to have more power but in terms of physique, she was absolutely helpless. He slammed her face against the hard ground after finally subduing her. He began laughing sadistically. She let out a yelp, and she felt something pop. Her nose possibly broke and there was blood running down the cupid's bow of her upper lip to her chin.
"Filthy swine," he spat at her face, pulling her head to meet at least one of his eyes. She had a large red scrape on the cheek from the hard marble ground of the palace. A bruise on the forehead that was dark mixed with tints of crimson and violet was forming. She was gritting her teeth to prevent herself from crying out in pain even more than she already had. His saliva on her face with twin trails of mascara prompted him to flop this sociopath on her back. She met his face much more closely than she had forced him to do. There was terror evident on her facial features. Nothing more arousing to him than this battered woman about to get what she deserves. He has waited for this very moment.
His hands met her windpipe, which had pined so much to embrace her neck. His grip was tightening, as she tried one hand to frantically pry his hands on her. He simply used one hand to pin both her wrists down, while the other was still wrapped around her neck.
He was dead set on killing her. He could use a number of ways to inflict a lot of pain on this being who was nothing more than an animal before him. He could choke her to death, or smash her skull against the pavement. He could use a dagger to carve his name and a list of vile names she had ridiculed with him time and time again, before stabbing her repeatedly in the heart. Or even better, he could vomit in a plate and force her to eat it, before kicking her aside like a rag doll and beating her with a heavy object til she lost all consciousness.
But not before she has some use first. He tore off the panties she had tried to put back on. Jammed a thick finger in her, which produced a silent gasp. His hand was so tight she could hardly talk or make audible sounds; her face was slowly turning a shade of blue. She seemed to stop struggling, but she was still forced to look at him. Demande's eyes were wide and crazed. "I can't hear you, Rabbit. What were you trying to say?" he taunted her, forcefully entering two more digits inside her gaping hole which was raw and sore as it is from the earlier contractions or peaks. He laughed with no mirth in his tone. She whimpered, trying to fight again. She was easily restrained. He laughed at her, spittle landing on her face. She was no longer crying.
"Oh no, you're not leaving yet. Not til I have what I want," he withdrew his fingers and steadied his throbbing length near her entrance. His hands left her throat, but they still held her wrists together and she was pushed down. Without any gradual insertion nor any empathy, he thrust into her deep enough that he could only see his testes slapping against her. She let out a scream that would've shook the entire palace. He shuddered a bit, almost wanting to release, but not yet. Not til he made good use of her.
He was thrusting wildly back and forth; the speed was almost astounding. Even he never went this quick with his flings with Esmeraude; it was almost as if someone else possessed his body. It was a blessing either way; her tightness was unbearable to not ejaculate in. She was not going to beg, but his merciless coupling was something she could not suffer any longer. She wasn't aroused at all and there was no natural lubrication but it didn't stop Demande. After all, women were tightest when they resisted or were unaroused. There was her virginal blood on his shaft, but he only grinned and took himself out at first, which made Black Lady think he was done. Only to slam back into her again. He let go of her wrist, meeting her neck again. Her nails dug deep onto his face; there were shallow cuts inflicted but that only provoked him to continue to violate the woman.
"Fucking scream my name," he bellowed at her, which caused her to flinch. He smashed his hips against hers again, hitting something repeatedly that sent shockwaves to Black Lady's body. She bit her lip from crying any more, and refused. He stopped ramming himself; his fingers then met the inside of her mouth, hooking on each side of her cheeks. He said he will not loosen his grip and will tear her mouth open until she complied with him. "Scream that I'm your superior. I want to hear you say it."
She shook her head mutely and his eyes narrowed, frustrated with the woman's stubborn pride. Her hands were now at her sides when he brought his hands back to her neck, plunging right back into her orifice. He continued and only pounded hard and relentlessly enough until he felt something rise. He was on the very edge. He feasted on everything that was emanating from her: terror, humiliation, anger and again, regret. There was something else that this woman was feeling: it was arousal, want, desire.
She did not want to show it, but she wanted him to continue bringing those tremors throughout her body. She knew resisting would cause him to elevate his aggression, and it aroused her more than anything. She wanted his hate; it FUELED her as well in a way. But no matter what, she will not comply his forceful demands. She did not want to give him the last laugh. She would not die tainting her name.
In the end, she will always get what she wants. Even if this animal's hands were knitted around her windpipe.
Her vision was blurry, and she stopped struggling altogether. Her wrists went limp and she felt shots of a warm sticky liquid burst inside her. There was a groan from the Prince, who was gasping for air. He glanced at her face, but he stiffened to his fury when she looked like she was about to stop breathing. "You're not dying on me yet," he snapped, his grip tightening. She was tapping the ground, strangely enough. It was rhythmic, not something she was doing hysterically or just because; she was doing that rather than trying to protect herself. He didn't pay much mind to it however, and slapped her across the face. Hard.
Her gaze met his again, with her rabbit-red orbs meeting his with the identical amount of hate. "Pathetic, stupid fool," she finally managed to say, though she was breathless. He did not loosen his hands. But his nails were etching into her neck, wanting to already break her in two. "Such an unauthentic ruler you are."
"You're not begging for your life?" he questioned this woman, his voice venomous but had a hint of awe. But he smiled pitifully, mockingly. "How noble of you, sweet little Rabbit. Now, your life and all that you reign for will end. I will hunt down your messiah, and destroy him. We will take back what is ours. Something you stole from us because of your insecuri-"
Something caused him to release her neck. Something sharp jabbed into his shoulder. He howled, his weight now dropping on the woman, who then shoved him off of her, and shakily got up. She brushed off her dress from dirty and wiped off blood on her face. She touched the dark welts he inflicted on her which caused her to wince. She did not bother to fix her torn dress or messy hair but crossed her arms. Looking at the man who had a huge shard of the Crystal that was once his earring pierced through his shoulder. He was still crying out in pain, tears streaming down his face from the agony. This amused the woman even after the ordeal he had just put her through. The earrings he once wore for power betrayed him in the same way Wiseman deceived him and his entire clan. He was now just an injured puppet. A laughably impulsive person that Black Lady and even Saphir had called him numerous times.
"Shoulder wounds are the best wounds. I can leave you there and leave you to bleed to death while suffering for a few more hours. But why do that when you can decay in a prison instead, along with the other fallen royalty who had revolted against Death Phantom," she approached the man and then kicked him so he was on his back. He coughed blood, and felt that she hit him hard enough to puncture a lung. She crouched down and with a laugh, heaved the huge shard effortlessly from his shoulder without warning. He could not move; the injury was fatal, and trying to get up would worsen. Not that he could anyway if he wanted to; he was in far much physical suffering than when she ripped out the tiny earrings from his earlobe.
"Endymion!" she called, her voice echoing the palace. Like an obedient pet, he appeared, kissing her cheek at the sight of her. He did not seem to be taken aback by her disheveled appearance than earlier. "Take him away. His fate is the same as the idiot for a brother." She motioned towards the white-haired Prince. He was immobile, and left a trail a blood as the brainwashed King took him away.
Black Lady wiped her cheek, where Demande's blood splattered after being stabbed. She frowned, and then looked at the mirror. The bruises and cuts, ha. This is nothing, she thought bitterly, as she turned to walk back to the main room of the palace. This is nothing compared to what I'll do to the people of this universe.
"I adore you for being so well-behaved," that same voice whom she suppressed returned in her head. She stopped in her tracks. The woman she once cherished; her voice echoed throughout her mind once again. And her mind was broken and shattered like a mirror. Pieces of a mirror could be put back together, but nothing will be the same. She could've asked for this beloved companion's forgiveness or give her a place of power or to rule alongside her. But she will never forgive Black Lady for what she has done, that lead to the downfall of Crystal Tokyo. Her mother, father, the Guardians who protected the Queen and her family. Everyone and everything.
For once she wanted to have control. To have what she wants. Leaving behind her sins in the past, and proceed in the future.
But of course, awakenings only happen if regrets were confronted. Was that not how Black Lady was reborn? Why else would she no longer be the same person? She grew up. Most people had a hidden monster in them, of course, but some were more deceptive than others. More cunning and charming, innocent even. Was that not her mother or the Guardians? They didn't love her. Were they wolves in sheep clothing?
Was the beautiful woman with the deep voice, elegant demeanor, magenta colored lips, tanned complexion and long luminous dark hair another wolf in sheep's clothing?
Regrets and sins will ultimately bring a new need for redemption. Whether it will bring salvation or her imminent destruction.
Black Lady knew that well. Far too well, but she didn't care. She disappeared into a smoke cloud, not looking back at the blood stained throne chair.