Chapter 9
"I'm a Cyborg, But That's Okay (Part One)"
My chest was tight and my breasts were heavy. And so I plotted an escape. I was back in my solitude before I knew what had hit me. This was all too ready to become a norm, to know that I had grown too accustomed and content with my entrapment only sickened me further. Quite forcefully, I retched in favor of getting rid of the contents that made me heavy. The flakes of blood coating my arm decided it was bound time to peel and fall away, so I helped them along.
It was growing on me, the little name I had thought up for my "quarters" The Dungeon. Everyone had deserted me and I found a solace in that too. Two comforts in one day, wow fortune! I was filthy from head to toe and softly padded about the small interior trying to develop any kind of sense to the mess. There was a constant objection to each progression that I made, I knew that the more I ventured closer the further I would be thrown back. But there was nothing that I could do but settle for the one step forward eight steps back philosophy.
There was something wrong with me, unnaturally wrong. But the thing was that when I went over it in my head and stared back at my soulless eyes there was nothing to the contrary there. I had nothing in me. All I had was this steady pull of darkness eating at me. I slid out of the liquor laced clothing like a much needed cathartic liberation and simply stood there letting the chilled air nip at me. I was reborn in this very room. This was where I contemplated the unsolicited notions that in my world everything would become black and white. There would be no peace for me; the world would just not have that.
The door was almost torn from its hinges as Eric surged into the tiny space. As always he would fill everything up to the brim, threatening to run rampant in my own madness. He simply stood there with an unearthly determination in his body, his face completely long and stoic - denying me of any kind of readability.
I decided to venture into the comic route. "And I'm so deserving of your attentions. Gosh what did I do to deserve this?" At times it was heartening to discover trivial, unimportant things about myself, even the inconveniently timed bouts of terrible dry humor. I swallowed hard with the miserable show of fearlessness, his face - I couldn't even manage to fathom what was swimming behind that stark expression. Obviously vampires lacked any kind of ability to knock or acknowledge the respect to modesty either as well as the arctic freeze of central air.
He crooked his index finger to me as though he were dictating to something so disgustingly beneath him, or seeing the clarity of my situation more that of a silly girl thinking she had the balls to tangle with a predator. That was more fitting; the other was far more depressing to indulge in. "I'm going to be very clear," his intonation made it dreadfully clear that this was not the time for fun and play. He knew exactly what he wanted out of me and set into doing what he needed to get me petrified into submission. He wanted me in my most vulnerable state, bra, panties and un-expecting.
I shook my head, Yes. The room fell deathly still and cold, into its own kind of resignation. My hands went slowly up and down my chilled body. There was a boulder caught in my throat so I caught on to the more efficient way to get past that.
"Good, now that I have your attention. Everything that I ask you, you will answer me."
I nodded meekly and wondered at how I ever managed to get here.
Wordlessly, he sauntered over to me to slip his hands around my waist to half carry half whisk me unto my birth bed. Eric retrieved a nearby chair and there were no words to pass between us. Of course he would ask but there would be nothing that I could give him.
That's how it ended, as quietly as it had all slipped in. What happened back there? What's behind the veil? What lies beneath the skin? It was all there, these things that went unanswered as with the old went slack-jawed by a disrupted youth. He didn't ask me anything that I had solutions to or more so they were merely questions that I had for myself.
I was aware of him, so disarmingly so. That awareness, it seeped into my skin and splayed across and into each recess and uncertainty. Then the sense of desperation unburied itself and sent me off someplace where I didn't want to go. The faint pull that gravitated over and along his skin and frame receded and even that too was taken away from me. Like an off switch that decided that it was passive and too unaggressive to tell that shoulder No, do not brush into me and turn me off. The terrible ache in my head retreated and I so badly wanted to feed from the quiet pool of energy enveloping him…
"Ira," the strength of his fingers broke into the miasma of thought as he firmly shook my body and looked into me. I was not here at the moment, I didn't want to be here and present where my body felt the weight of my mind.
Ira.
"What." He must've been speaking the whole time, I didn't want to say anything else, not that I had been vocal for the entirety of the one-sided conversation. By his expression, I could tell he knew it was futile. He was still trying to glamour me, something I knew his ego was unforgiving of. "How's Sookie?" I decided it had been due time to change the subject.
His body completely disregarded that attempt, "I can tell we are not going to get much further than this." Much like a human, as I've observed in my short time, the most minute lines in his face furrowed but so with frustration and something along the lines of self-discipline.
Do you know what it feels like for me? It's like something empties me out and fills me up each time then shakes me around like bottled water. The world's more than ready to spew out my insignificance. There will not be peace for me, the world can't have it. There will be no place or people to share the burden of self pity… "…stop looking at me like I'm some insignificant digit or some shit." It was then that I realized that I had been saying out loud what had ran through my mind. "How's Sookie?" My eyes swiftly darted off to some inconsequential wall fixture.
"You've already asked that question."
"So what? I don't get to ask questions… okay point taken, the silence for dramatic effect was quite tasteful." Every now and again my mind would have one of those carelessly doltish slips and would say what I would be thinking. Maybe I did indeed seek a kind of reprimand. I was beginning to become gravely wary of Fangtasia. "Well let me ask this, answer if you like it very well doesn't matter to me. What happens to me when you get what you're looking for Eric?"
"That's all irrelevant Ira. It would seem to me that you spent your life coming to this exact point in life. Nothing happens for simply "no reason at all." You've lived life and it has ultimately taken you here before me."
Heat peered into my face and numbed the rest of me and yes I did give into the slip of mind to strike him. It sickened me to see the ease to which he effortlessly caught my forearm in a vise grip. I breathed through gritted teeth, "Let. Go."
His fingers executed the slightest of movement to encourage the tendons and muscles to sporadically spasm. I refused him; that would be the one thing that I would not give him, my dignity. My teeth clenched down through the discomfort and I tried to stand my ground. If I afforded this small gesture unto him he would most definitely have me, and he would be aware of it the instant it happened. Quietly I resisted his tight grip only to have him as steadfast and inert as ever. The false comradeship we had manifested dispersed before my eyes.
Eric very much enjoyed the struggle; he took in the dregs of the pathetic attempts I made to free myself. We both knew it would go nowhere but nevertheless I couldn't let him have this piece of me. "This is what you give me in return?" He flung my arm back and simply stared at me. He never had any kind of intention to harm me, not unless I was willing for the kind of recreational masochistic delights he had in mind.
Through the struggle the slash on my arm reopened and he looked at me and my stilled fingers. I saw the unconcealed hunger in him then, as soon as the organic stitches had strained apart. His eyes delivered the unasked question.
My mouth went hot and thick and his eyes remained on mine the entire time. His cool tongue and mouth gently flitted across the fervent, burgundy streaks which disappeared with the path of his mouth. A crooked smirk lit his face. "This conversation is not over."
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A/N: I've been m.i.a. for a good minute now but that shall change. This is a filler of sorts so I'm not quite pleased with it but that too shall change. I'm not sure if I'll do revisions but when that bridge comes I'll cross it. It's late and I'm suffering from sleep deprivation soo... All in all I hope you all havent quite abandoned Vesper's Cusp :/ cause I sure as hell havent lol. I'm having an early mid-life crisis/revelation/teen angst/whatever you name it so bear with me here. Come Wednesday I have a 8 hour roadtrip of sorts so I have no excuse to kill time to deliver something bitching. Much love.
By the way if you are into international flicks, especially asian check out this chapter's name sake. I'm a Cyborg, But That's OK. Hails from South Korea. Fantastically weird film. Loves it.