***Lady Vaati***
I jerk helplessly against the chains, trying to rid myself of the horrible agony coursing through my body. My torturer and tormenter laughs at such an act of futility. Everything has been a blur since I've been here. It has only been cut through with pain. Pain, blood, and utter helplessness. I apprehensively glance up at my torturer, Death's hand himself. He's looking at me, fingering the chains holding my hands above my head. I try to flinch away, but it is useless, my body being chained as it is to the wall and the close proximity in which my enemy resides.
He kneels before me and grasps my chin, forcing my emerald eyes to meet his brown ones. He smiles. "You look beautiful painted in red, Lady Vaati," he taunts in his baritone voice, his fingers going over numerous lacerations littering my body. I shudder under his hand and glare at the floor.
"There's nothing that you can do to break me, Ghirahim," I mutter quietly.
"Are you sure?" He counters. His eyes flick up and down my body. "You seem to be in a pretty pathetic state." His fingers pause at one of the deeper wounds, in my ribs. I wince and close my eyes, waiting for the pain to come. It never does. Confused, but relieved, I gradually open my eyes to see Ghirahim looking at me, smirking. "It's amazing how much you've changed in the short amount of time you've been here."
"Short amount of time?!" I say incredulously, my voice rising. "It's felt like years!"
"Ah, but to me it's felt only like seconds," he replies, fingers continuing their movement. I swallow hard, shaking under his hand. His hand trails up to rest solidly on my pulse. I return my eyes to his, fear shining through them. His eyes are dark, soulless. Empty. Devoid of any mercy or compassion. I may be alive now, but that doesn't mean I will be much longer.
He smirks. "Scared, are we?" He strokes the side of my neck in a false soothing gesture. I close my eyes again to prevent him from seeing the panic flaring in their depths. I inwardly hope that he doesn't misread my actions.
His hand stays there a few moments more, allowing the coldness to seep into my skin. I shiver. Other than that, I dare not move. Ghirahim chuckles and draws closer, our noses almost touching. He shifts his hand to rest at the nape of my neck. I sharply draw in a breath. A smile quirks up at the corners of his mouth. Without warning, his hand knots in my hair and jerks my head back, baring my throat. A strangled cry escapes my lips, tears forming in my eyes. I struggle in my bonds uselessly. My breath catches in my throat as I feel his sharp fangs leering against my skin. I shut my eyes tightly.
"It would do you good not to struggle," he murmurs, lips brushing my flesh. "If you do, I may...bite too deep." I flinch as he nibbles at my neck. I struggle in vain, trying to pull away. Slight screams escape my mouth as I realize the hopelessness of it all. Ghirahim puts a finger to my lips, silencing me. "What did I say?" He asks softly, not expecting an answer. I give him a look. Smirking, he draws that same finger down the side of my face, trailing down my neck, and stops at my collarbone. I freeze. He glances up at my terror-stricken face. "What, Lady Vaati?" He asks mockingly. "Is something wrong?" I grit my teeth and look away from him. He chuckles and draws his whole hand lower. I shudder involuntarily as his hand settles on my heart. It beats fast under his palm and I start to sweat, though fear has its chilling, iron grip on me.
He releases his hold on my hair, instead resting his hand on the nape of my neck. My breathing becomes erratic with alarm. I can feel my heart pounding under Ghirahim's palm. I dread what he may do. I dread what he can do.
I lick the saltiness away from my upper lip. Ghirahim runs his fingers through my sweat-soaked hair. I groan softly, though I try to mask it by coughing immediately after. I will not give in I will not give in I will not give in, I repeat to myself in my mind.
