Saving me, Raping me
Entry Twelve
I awoke before sunrise and watched as the sky turned from dark misty midnight blue to a navy, an intriguing purple with just a dash of pink. The blazing golden yellow sun, climbing up the ladder, higher into the sky, illuminating it from it's once painters' pallette to the brilliant light blue that everyone wishes for every day. Some say the sky is just perfect cloudlessly, so they can see the birds flying into the air with nothing surrounding them, nothing to dodge. Just clear skies ahead. Yet, I disagree, the clouds remind me of all the hardships I've had to overcome to obtain freedom, (some might say otherwise) . . . oh who am I fooling? The clouds symbolize every obstacle that I had to tackle, and still to this day forward. But they also hold secrets, dreams, hopes, wishes, memories, happiness inside their fluffiness, that they're not white clouds, but yellow, orange, gray and so on. They represent everything and everyone, and today they're there too. I can't help smiling, and believing that maybe in the long run, things will be better.
I don't know what will happen. I'm laying on my stomach looking out the window, writing down here, about the future. And I don't know. All the power of premonitions and I can't even see what I'll be doing the next hour. Or, maybe that's the point? I'm not supposed to know, yet . . . ? Well, even without my power, I know this is going to be a long day, especially with that charade I pulled last night, Cole might be wondering what's going on in this head of mine. I would like to know myself. Oh, and here comes the morning 'grub' . . .
Afternoon
Nothing has happened to me so far. There hasn't been an investigation on my disappearing trick yesterday night nor an interrogation from Cole on my part. Can't say I'm exactly pleased. I do want to see him, yet I don't. I'm afraid of what I might encounter. I'm afraid of whom or what that man will be once I step back into his light. Lately, I've been feeling nauseous every time I'm around him. I don't know why, I just do. Sometimes I wonder about all these nightly visits . . . that can't be healthy.
But never mind about that. The puppets are here to take me to the showers. I need a good bath.
Evening
On my way to the showers, it seemed some of Cole's guests had an overnight stay. As the puppets lead me toward the all familiar shower room, the business men abruptly stopped their meeting and turned their eyes to favor upon me. I don't know what it is with demons and evil people alike, but the darkness the shadows are always cast over them, giving them even more an eerie glow, and in such a lighted hallway with their darkness blending in, their eeriness deepened. As their eyes stayed rooted to me, the closest one seems to be the leader in my eyes, because the other two men that happened to be with him, they retreated as he lingered on. Feeling uncomfortable, I took the other route and ignored the man, about to push the shower door and walk right in.
I've seen and vanquished so many demons before, this one was no different to me. However, as I put my hand out to push open the door, his hand grabbed my wrist swiftly with horrifying strength I thought he would snap it. The grip he had one my wrist was painful, and I winced as he twisted it slightly to show his superiority over me. Against a Charmed one, one of the powerful good witches. Especially since now I am a Charmed One that happens to be a slave. I've entered even lower in society. A society, which is governed by the evil, ruled with evil, seen with evil. Everything and everyone are evil, demons, warlocks, witches and even mortals. The world was corrupted, my Cole has split personalities, he's powerful and probably even more so than that man who grabbed my wrist. Those who did not succumb to the evil in the world were either two. One, dead. Two, slaves, like me. But my sisters, the only ones that I know of that are mortal and witches that are not owned, are not dead and are good. Considering that I am a slave and he knows it. I had insulted him with my quick getaway on entering the shower room and not showing him any type of authority over me or respect.
Slaves can be commanded by anyone, used by anyone, anything can be done to them. I feel our world is falling back into the past, where we were property, yet now we're replaceable if say, one of the higher leveled demons 'accidently' killed us or damaged us in some way.
I felt his grip tightening as I stood there looking at him, his face full of anger and resentment. I knew he wanted me to bow my head at him, but I wouldn't lower myself to someone like him.
"For Cole's personal slave, you've no manners at all." He drawled. He had an English accent, and said all like tall. So he knew, that I was Cole's personal slave, his favorite, that Cole pulled all the strings on me. I stared hard at him, unblinking, I wanted to see where he was going with this. His grip on my wrist loosened but it made no difference because I still couldn't take it out of his grasp. I carry the red mark he made on my skin since that encounter earlier. His other hand pushed me up against the shower room door, it didn't open as I leaned against it which I knew was he using his power to control the door. I looked out the corner of my eyes and notice the puppets had fled. What a great time to leave someone actually in distress, now I knew it was up to me to get out of the mess. I looked at him firmly, and scrutinized his appearance, as his face was in the artificial light now that came down from the ceiling above us, and since it was much closer to mine than it was a minute ago.
"Cats got your tongue, love?" He asked, lifting one of his pale hands up to my chin and running his thumb across it, then grabbed it hard, pulling it even closer to his own face that I could smell his expensive cologne.
"No manners at all . . . " again he said to me, as though I was a mentally challenged eight year old. "Maybe I should teach you some, eh, love?"
He slammed my wrist, up against the door, and used his body to back me up that I was having even a hard time breathing due to the lack of space between him and myself. Lowering his face to mine, I knew what he was going to do, like any other demon out there, what they all do when they come across a pretty slave all alone. I turned my head so that his mouth clashed with my cheek, he didn't seem to mind. He just opened his mouth to bite my cheekbone which took me by surprise and made me turn my head and center it at him. That was when he struck again but captured my mouth. I struggled against him, and tried to bite his tongue, but didn't succeed in any of that, the last thing that came to my mind was to do the one thing that we women could only do. I brought my knee up with enough force that I thought I shattered his manhood in two. He crumbled onto the floor holding that tender spot, spewing off curse words. I was about to kick him in the ribs, when a shadow fell over me, stopping me dead in my tracks.
The guest on the floor began to wither in agony, the pain he was suffering reflected in his shocking light-blue eyes that stared right at me, but really at what was behind me. I winced as I heard his groans and moans turn into agonizing screams that could rupture anyone's ear drums. I clapped my hands over my ears and backed away, bumping right into the man inducing the pain into the helpless rag doll of a man on the floor. My hands left my ears and I took a look up at Cole, his face his body it was all passive, but I knew the source of pain, anguish, jealousy, hurt would be in those eyes of his. And that's where I found it all, I looked away immediately as I realized what he could be feeling, what could be happening in that mind of his. Memories and incidents, flashing on and off in his mind.
I had never seen that look in his eyes, the look of murder, revenge, hate, of rage. He looked so savage at that moment, I cringed as my stomach churned. I know he was doing it for me. But that way he did it . . . it was not exactly the violence that seeped out of him, but the way he induced it into the guest on the floor. The way he stood there silently and gracefully, squeezing his fist as though he was bringing back the feeling in it because it fell asleep. His body held a natural stature, it didn't droop, it didn't stand erect, it had a leaning look to it even if he wasn't leaning on anything.
I wanted to dig a hole and crawl in there as the scene I was witnessing grew gruesome. I kneeled on the floor, my hands flew back over my ears, but that didn't keep out the screams that echoed in my head, I looked at Cole's hand. It gradually closed into a fist and opened again to repeat the process. I watched the man laid in a pool of his own blood, long deep cuts form across his face, along his arms and leg, his clothes were soaked in blood. I never saw a power as this, it could be so horrible, so dark and meaningful, it was something that I've never seen a demon possess before. It didn't even look like a power. More like some unseen force or person ripping this man apart right on the floor. With one more final deep cut along the man's neck he was gone. His screams stopped abruptly from the unseen coming of the cut there, his body laid still, lifeless when only minutes ago he had me up by those hands of his against the wall.
I took a peek at Cole, his hands were gathered in fists, then he circled his shoulders, stretching. Slowly he turned around to me, a look of satisfaction was smeared on his face, he open his hand up and put it out waiting for me to receive it. I flinched when I saw him move, what I just saw still played in my mind, but for him, it seemed like all in a day's work. He saw my flinch, and closed his hand into another tight fist, his face changing into a grimace at my sudden fear toward him. I breathed deeply, and he bowed to me, then in a low whisper told me, "No one should ever treat you less, even me." Still, in his bowing position he shimmered out.
I shivered and knocked open the shower door. I needed to get rid of the horror I saw on the floor, but as I walked and stole another look at the floor where the man laid it was gone, the mess, the man himself. The floor was sparkling clean, as though nothing ever happened. But it did happen, and Cole treated it as nothing. My fear ran deep, if he could treat that as nothing, the thought of me crossing the line over into Cole's hate, I know I would never survive an attack from him. I knew now I didn't anticipate seeing him tonight, I didn't want to see him for a long time, even if he did save me from that man. The thought of Cole made my stomach lurch, I wanted to throw up, I wanted to get as far away from those mystical haunting eyes that lurked, embedded in my mind.
