Chain and Saw
Don't look at me-I don't know what I was supposed to see in her.
Her hair was thick and luminous as blood; her eyes matched its red shimmer. She was a beauty wrapped in fine silk of red with the fragility of a porcelain doll. If I did so as touch her, I feared she would break. In public matters that voice of hers had a different sound to it towards others who heard the way it boomed in charming confidence. But that wasn't what allured me to her in the first place.
Such a woman could be admired for being able to put on a brave face while slowly crumbling with age and tear on the inside. She was no exception; not even when raising the blade and covering herself in another's red dress desperate to make a separate peace within herself and relieve the pain she had been living through for so long.
Humans are interesting. Why else would I follow one? Being a reaper doesn't mean I am to be deprived of fun. And it wasn't her time yet either. It was theirs.
I raised my own sword. Yes, I did so by her side. But it was out of our passion, our desperation.
I've been alive for many years. Who's to say all of this was not going to end, lurking through the night and going in for the kill as true to our duet title of Jack the Ripper? All I did was ignore her lifespan ticking away from time to time. I had even been tempted to somehow make the numbers soar higher.
You could say it was because I liked the way she wrapped her arms around my neck and breathed the breath of life in my ear. Doing so much as fondling every sensitive part of my body was only another way of making me feel alive. Of course I returned the favor too, scraping my fingers along her skin gently as I can.
And when I had the urge to finally invade her, she cried just as I was about to. Momentarily I'd forgotten that she had already been violated by a tragic past. Having my way would only crack her maintained display even more. So I held myself back and simply enjoyed every moment of having affection I've rarely been rarely given and received.
Ultimately a link was tied between us as master and servant, both literally and mentally. I was there as the man owing his time and skill, no matter how insufficient, to his lady and the woman gave commands.
She was named Madame Red. I called her my chain.
I don't know what I was to find in him either.
Nothing about him was womanly. No curves, no mask, no need for caution unless it involved avoiding the splatters of blood resulting from a messy end and its stain, no affection. He was colder than a newly carved ice sculpture. His wits and strict approach to siding with rules and logic made him below freezing.
Perhaps it was his face I adored. Every angle of it and every dark strand of hair in that signature clear cut he so often wore captured my gaze.
Or was it a matter of our contrast in personalities? I'm not uptight, nor am I someone who seeks a calm life of lather, rinse and repeat. Nothing about him is flirty or wishing to live loose while staying within boundary of his expectations as a reaper.
All the more it makes me see him as an unfamiliar type. Is it because it might be difficult for me to understand him? Challenging to look beyond the chilling exterior he presents no matter how entertaining it is that I can tease him to my content and he still refuses to change face, only ever pushing me away?
I raised my own sword. Yes, I did so under his orders. All of it was a job no matter how much I wanted it to be of something more than that, to see him enjoy himself for once if it meant straddling my legs around his waist, allowing myself to be taken. Let him gain control over me. I was never able to do that to him. If I was ever given an opportunity this train of thought wouldn't have occurred because he would already licking me with his slender wet tongue neck down to my chest and wherever else his heart desires-if he had one in the first place.
For now, I was his minor and him my major. The dirty work was on my part. He was there to assign it and clean up when the deed was over.
He was called William. I called him my saw.
I don't know what they were to search for between each other.
The playful vixen and the lone wolf panted together in lust sending an electrifying pain through my body not of excitement, but sorrow. Her pleasure escalated to his howling. Two slender beings did more than enjoy each other's company and where? In his office. What other location would scream as scandalous?
And all I can do is imagine what's going on rooms away. I'm sure while she's caressing the side of his beautiful face the way she used to do with me; he takes her body to heavenly heights I was never able to explore.
I'll be sure to examine and tease him of any noticeable lipstick marks in the morning if I'm lucky to find that he was clumsy enough, erratic by his first (if not rare) encounter.
But for now, all I can do is sit and wonder how this happened.
Madame Red wasn't human anymore. I wasn't her servant. She had become one of us.
William became human. I was still his underling. He had become one of us.
They are my chain and saw. The blade never felt so cold and rusty.