So...this is chapter 3. Ha.

Maybe this should be rated M?

I promise I'll get to the point of this story in chapter 4 so just bear with me.

If you like, follow favorite, etcetera...I got a lot of potential projects l, I'll probably only pursue the ones that people are enjoying.

Remember, This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but with a whimper.

-Vronsurd

Chapter 3

Ruby awoke with a start. At least, she thought she had awoken. But, upon examining her surroundings, it seemed she was still dreaming.

Although the sudden shift in mood was a bit odd.

A few seconds ago she had been riding down a river of milk on a boat made of eternally hot and evwrlastingly fresh cookies. Now she was in a cold concrete room. It was dark, the only source of light was the moon which shown through a barred window ten feet above her. The floor was damp and frigid against her bare feet. The chill worked its way through her thin pajama pants, and down her spine.

She tried to stand, to reduce her points of contact with the cold ground. When she began to shift, the rattling noise revealed the manacles embracing her wrists and ankles, attached to short chains. The chains were so short that they would not allow her to stray so much as an inch from the wall behind her—much less push up to her feet.

She was still inspecting her shackles—as best she could in the pale light-when a sudden clap startled her. She whipped her gaze forward—only to be met by a pair of mismatched pink and brown irises inches awayr.

A scream caught in Ruby's throat. She didn't release it though. She was a warrior, a huntress, screaming in terror didn't come naturally to her—she refused to let it.

But these eyes…

There was madness in them. Madness and joy.

"W-who are you?" Ruby asked. She couldn't make out much of her captors face in the dark. The person was strategic in their position—just outside the beam of moonlight that bathed Ruby.

The man or woman wrapped in shadows did not answer, instead, they produced a dimly lit scroll. After a few seconds of typing they turned the screen towards Ruby.

"You know, I watched you sleep a while."

Ruby mouthed the text slowly and then responded as best she could. "Oh? That's…cool. I guess."

The scroll turned round again and more typing ensued. "I don't usually watch random skanks sleep. Just my beloved."

"Hey! I'm not a skank!" Ruby replied hastily. "And who's your beloved?"

The scroll turned back again. More typing. "You are unusually cute. You have an adorable nose."

Ruby realized this wasn't so much a conversation as a monologue. Her captor wasn't interested in discussion. There was just something she wanted to say. So Ruby bit back her onslaught of questions.

More typing. "Yes. You are very cute…"

"Thank you…?" Ruby responded uncertainly. "I can't really see you but I think your eyes are beautiful."

And then there was pain. The scream of terror Ruby had swallowed earlier came ripping out of her as a wail of agony. Cold steel was lodged in her shoulder. She stared down at the blades reflective surface as she screamed. Blood spurted from the wound; she could feel it on her face; she watched it drip down the weapon.

The tears flooding her eyes combined with the rooms already poor lighting made it difficult to read the scroll when it was turned towards her once again.

"Shameless whore-faced-slut-bench! You would even try to steal me from my beloved!? You would try to steal me!?"

What?

After Ruby managed to subdue her initial screams—and her mind became a little less foggy she reread the message that had made so little sense the first time.

"Huh?" Ruby asked in a very small voice—in between gasping sobs.

The shadow withdrew their blade with an upward flourish that further opened Ruby's wound. Ruby clenched her teeth and looked towards the lone window above. The pain was overwhelming; it permeated her being. But it wasn't as bad as that initial stab—nor was it as shocking. She managed to focus enough to read the scroll again when it was turned towards her.

"My eyes belong to my beloved. All of me belongs to my beloved. You will have nothing. You are nothing."

Ruby screamed again when the blade was driven into her other shoulder—two perfectly symmetrical wounds. This time she couldn't regain control. The sobs, the gasps, the screams, they were all blending together.

In rapid succession the blade slashed out of her shoulder and slid into the thigh directly below, and then the thigh next to it, and then back up the first shoulder, and then the second. With lighting precision the swordsman slid his or her blade into the same wounds, over and over, heightening the pain, expanding the damage.

"Why?" Her speech was hardly intelligible as she choked it out. "Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you? To anybody?"

The torturer withdrew the blade straight this time—no fancy flourish. The light of the scroll disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared.

Ruby squinted at the screen, but the words were just a blur. There were too many tears in her eyes, too much terror in her heart, too much agony in her limbs.

"I-I can't read it", the fourteen-year-old whimpered. "P-please don't be angry. B-but I just can't read it."

There was the sudden sound of a glass dropped and the shadowy figure in front of her vanished.

The demon reappeared to her left and slightly behind her. Ruby couldn't see her but she could detect her murderous presence. She could almost feel a devilish smile plastered onto a sadistic face.

Ruby tried to turn, to get a look at her captor, but a small hand on the side of her head kept her facing forward. Ruby didn't have the strength to resist. The monster was behind her, preparing only-god-knows-what hellish torture—and she couldn't even turn her head.

Why…was this happening to her? Why?

An arm draped over Ruby's shoulder. The arm was small and light—probably a woman's.

Oh god. Ruby realized that she was about to have her throat slit.

Why?

She loved people. She always tried her best. She always tried to do the right thing. Why was this…how could this…

Surprisingly, the object she had assumed—through waterlogged pupils—was a knife for her throat, was a handkerchief for her eyes.

Her captor dabbed carefully, almost...tenderly clearing Ruby's vision.

Ruby was still crying—but there was a long enough gap in between the sobs for her to read the scroll, now only inches away. The thin nails on fingers that grasped the edges of the device were each painted alternating pink and brown. Ruby picked up on this small detail before she read the mind numbing message those dainty fingers had typed.

"You really do have such a cute little face…I bet it'll look even better inside out." There was a sound like breaking glass and the scroll disappeared, replaced by a razor sharp carving knife.

Ruby screamed. She screamed with all her being. Her jaw quivered as she released her desperate cry. Her body trembled. Her eyes flooded. She twisted away from the blade, straining against the hands that held her head in place. She caught a short glimpse of those wicked, mismatched, unsympathetic eyes. "Please…", she sputtered.

The sharp point of the knife traced the outline of her jaw with playful lethargy.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I don't know what I've done. But I'll do anything. Please don't hurt me anymore." Ruby hacked and sobbed as she spoke, barely enunciating.

The knife moved a half inch away from her face. It seemed—for a moment that her desperate plea had worked. Would she survive this yet? Ruby was afraid to even hope.

And then the knife moved…a few more inches from her face—into position for a stab.

Was this really happening? Was she really about to have her face carved off by some multicolored psychopath? After all she had been through. With all she had left to do…

"Sorry mom. Guess I can't become a great huntress like you after all." For a moment, Ruby could see her: her mother, a huntress as beautiful as she was powerful...but the fleeting hallucination disappeared aa quickly as it appeared.

Then the knife surged forward…

Ruby wasn't sure whether it was a sharp point through her brain, or pure unadulterated terror that caused it but, in an instant, all went black.

And she knew no more.

I've been told that I shouldn't apologize since this is just a story. But I still feel like I should since that advice was given before things got really dark.

Hold put for chapter 4 dear reader. It may or may not be worth your while. :P

Sincerely,

Vronsurd