Inner Demons (12/?)
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Setting the heavy brush on the dresser, River leaned in and considered her reflection, staring into deep brown eyes that answered back.
As she scrutinized the mirror-girl, pale and small, she wondered if this is what Marcus saw and if he found her appealing, or rather, if he had just grown accustomed to her looks. She had seen his usual faire, in flashes of memories when his lust was loud and blaring.
She was nothing like those women, and there had been many. It was true that he didn't always desire her, but now, he was bursting with it. It was both frightening and thrilling, knowing that there was a flurry of want just waiting to be unleashed.
Standing straight, she gathered and twisted her long hair back, fastening the bulk with a pair of dainty, flowered chopsticks. A fresh eagerness trembled in her fingers as she thought of him, boding evil contained and safe to the touch.
She couldn't explain the magnetic draw that connected her to things dark and dangerous, but there it was, seeping through the cracks of her old shell.
Over time, her feelings for the creature had slowly twisted, shaped into what would outwardly resemble a normal relationship. A closer look would reveal that none of it made any sense, just like most things swirling about in her mind.
Finished, River pulled out her clothes, something more mature, and dressed, remembering the proper order of things. Feeling pleased with the change, she smiled internally, enjoying the normalcy of the moment. Most of the time, she was busy struggling for self-control or a hold on this slippery reality in which she was held captive.
Not that she was truly caged anymore, it was different now, a lot of things were. Marcus had set her free, kept by a willing leash.
River left the room and bounded down the staircase, curious to what the day would bring. The morning sun had filled the great house full of light, making it look like a dream. Perhaps it all was.
Making her journey through the hall and into the kitchen, she passed the bustling servants, who were sweeping about in a torrent, busy with the upkeep. They came in swarms and then seemed to disappear back into the walls as if they had never been there to begin with.
As she passed through the kitchen, she grabbed a peach from a bowl on the counter and bit into it, savoring the soft, tangy-sweet flesh. Everything tasted better now. Happiness made it that way.
The entrance to the patio was open, and she could see Marcus just beyond, sitting straight and proper, reading the morning flyer at a small, outdoor table. He was suited and clean shaven as usual, a picture of meticulous perfection. Just beyond the cover of shade, the pool shone a cool blue, mirroring the crisp sky above. Further still, landmasses floated in the distance, little worlds suspended by invisible string.
An unconscious smile formed at the sight of him, her well-mannered fiend. Coming to stand next to Marcus, a sharp thrill coursed to her heart, making it pound softly in his company.
"Good morning." She chirped tenderly, eyeing the focal point of his attention.
Electronic headlines ran horizontally across the bulletin he was reading, updating every so often with new information. A capture at the top right flickered and changed every so often, accompanying the breaking news.
Marcus turned his head slightly, just barely acknowledging River's presence. Her light scent overtook his senses, instantly reminding him how much he craved it in her absence.
Ever since yesterday's encounter, he had wanted more of her. It was just a kiss, pure and chaste, but there was a surge of something more potent behind it, like the undercurrent of electricity buzzing before a storm.
She had shown him exactly how she wanted things to be, and out of curiosity he allowed her to lead. It was unnatural, this sudden appetite for idle human affection. The fact that he wanted to learn her in ways that meant restraint and patience gave him pause.
It made him want to be rebellious.
Turning his attention back to the paper, he noted dryly, "It seems one of our neighbors slaughtered his entire family in their sleep. So, I say it is an excellent morning."
River raised an eyebrow, slightly thrown by the statement, but not deterred. Leaning in over his shoulder, she scanned the page quickly and smiled when she found what she was looking for.
"A mysterious stranger saves six from burning skyplex just before it is engulfed in flames." There was an unaware righteousness in her tone as she read the words aloud.
"I see what you are doing." Marcus chided, completely aware of her nearness. God she smelled delicious, sweet and virtuous and everything else that was bad for him. Resisting temptation was not one of his strong suits.
"Hmm?" River hummed the question innocently as she took another bite of her breakfast, resting her arm casually against Marcus' broad shoulder. He noticed that too.
Setting the paper down, Marcus smirked up at River. "I can assure you, most everyone is corrupt, and for those who aren't, well, they can be persuaded." Calmly taking a sip of his coffee, he added, "We're well on our way to batting a 1000."
Upon finishing his cold sentiments, Marcus took a good, long look at River. She was dressed in a white, high-neck blouse, with ruffled half-sleeves and beige, form-fitting pants, altogether looking slightly less girlish. She'd even gone to the trouble of pulling that wild hair from her face. Her appearance and manner held a brand new air of confidence. It was bittersweet seeing her this way. He had grown quite fond of the broken mess of a thing.
She was looking at him softly now, more so than he deserved, and there was conviction in her voice as she refuted him. "But it exists, the goodness in people. With that, there's hope."
There was the girl again, all sixteen telling years.
"And what do you know of goodness?" Marcus questioned wryly. "I've seen your file." After all she'd been put through, he was constantly surprised she wasn't more of a cynic.
River was quiet a moment, searching within for what she knew to be true, what had to be. It was in memories of Simon, always mending the sick and broken; whether it be her doll or their grandmother when she took ill. It was the intern at the academy that slipped her books in-between doses, breaking up her tragic day with a glimmer of kindness. It was in the thoughts of strangers, not blaring, but pieces here and there that made her feel warm inside, if only for a moment.
"I feel it, bone deep and constant. Keeps me from fading away." River confessed. No longer feeling hungry, she set aside her unfinished food, and absently licked her sticky fingers clean.
Marcus watched as River ran her lips over her appendages one by one, her tongue occasionally darting out and taunting him with innuendo. Grimacing in restraint, he channeled his focus elsewhere, towards the more pleasurable torment of her.
"What if I were to take that? Completely smash what's left?" He pondered aloud. It would be so easy, and would solve this odd attachment issue he seemed to be having.
River walked slowly around the table, dipping her fingers in the metal grating, reflecting back to all the moments the creature had attempted to decimate her but ultimately failed.
It was a flicker of hesitation that had grown ever since he first put his fist through the wall, narrowly missing her head. His rage was all-consuming then, barely restrained, and now it was…confused.
Making the full circle, she was standing before him now, the confidence of her conclusion shining in her eyes. "You would feel unsatisfied. That thrill is fleeting."
All Marcus could do was glare at her. He learned long ago he couldn't prove her wrong, whether he wanted to or not. It was a bothersome technicality that came with the job.
The job. He had to constantly remind himself that she was a commodity and nothing more. Despite his wanton thoughts, this could lead nowhere pleasant, and only serve to distract him from the objective.
He had to ignore the fact that she was standing before him now, offering herself in ways no human or creature had ever dared before. This confused him the most, made him skeptical of her intentions. The world was black and white in his eyes, and her actions were made up of grays.
Watching her closely for reaction, Marcus spoke slowly, so that the words would sink in. "We have bigger plans, you know."
River remained impassive, all this she knew. Repeater.
Looking hard at the girl, he made up his mind and said it, gesturing between them. "This…whatever this is…is a fluke."
There it was, a waver in her stance, a slight hitch in breath. Her vulnerability was always exquisite.
Marcus pressed on, twisting the knife deeper with words. "When all is said and done, I will not hesitate to do what's necessary for the greater good, or bad, if you will." Folding his hands contentedly on his lap, he smirked coolly. "Interpret that anyway you like."
River could see the lie through the smile. He was pulling back, making himself stone again and he was going to sink them both. Her hands shook with longing, she wanted to touch him, show him what was real, but she didn't dare, for he was teetering on the edge in a bad way.
"This is not what you want." River refuted, speaking to the heart of the matter.
No, it wasn't what he wanted. What he wanted, involved less talking and complete abandonment of consciousness, but somewhere along the way using the girl for a bit if passing fun had been tossed out the window of options.
The mutual hate and respect he felt for the girl left him spun about.
Pushing back his chair, Marcus stood, towering over the small thing, his tone calm but patronizing. "Do you really think you can presume to know what I want? A little girl, barely grasping for her sanity? I bet you don't even know who you are, do you? What you're capable of."
River flinched at that, trembling in confusion. Sometimes she could feel herself splitting into two different people and it was hard to know which one she was. Maybe he was right. She never knew what she was saying.
Hot tears stung her cheeks, and she couldn't tell them to stop. Her emotions were an open book, there was nothing to contain them. She hated feeling this way, raw and exposed.
Marcus slowly reached up, as if on autopilot, and tenderly thumbed away a tear. "No, I suppose not." He answered for her affectionately. So much so, River almost believed it.
He let his thumb brush down her cheek. Her skin was so soft, he couldn't help but linger there. "Your moment will come." He continued. "Until then, we must quit these games. They're trite and useless." His thumb had absently found her lips, full and damp under his touch, beckoning him.
What the hell, he thought, and bent down to kiss her, one last time, he promised himself. He was gentle, running his tongue lightly across lips that still tasted of peaches. She was trembling, barely responsive to his prodding and he had to fight his carnal instinct to pull her close and devour her completely.
River remained stationary against Marcus' kiss. His words were saying one thing and his lips another, and it was so very cruel. Turning her face, she reluctantly broke the contact that left her feeling weak and wanting.
Taking a moment to collect herself, River looked back up into those familiar eyes, appealing to the part of him that wanted this as much as she did.
She raised her hand, wanting to pierce the armor, the cold formality of his suit and tie. Reveal what lie dormant. "You convince yourself when you're uncertain." River avowed softly. This much, she wasn't scared to call him out on. "I make you uncertain. But it's all just words. You're full of them, but they ring emptier every day."
All too suddenly, his gaze seemed unbearable and she needed to escape its impenetrable force, along with the uncharacteristic volume of his thoughts which were escalating with each passing moment. Brushing passed Marcus, River stumbled blindly towards the house, needing to lay down, but was instead caught hard by the wrist.
Marcus' strength was incapacitating as hesitated, battling differing urges. Hold on, or let go? No matter how he tested her, something else beckoned, something beyond any of their control. She made him forget who he was, and if he didn't remind them, he'd easily give into this other reality.
But it wasn't real. In this place, they weren't who they were.
Pulling her back to him forcefully, Marcus grabbed River's other wrist, and yanking her up by them, forcing her to balance on the tips of her toes. He glared at her, enraged, ready once and for all to trump her prying ways. He hated that she saw straight through him.
"You can't change me." He threatened, looking so far into her, she could feel her insides burn. "This is who you desire." He pointed out darkly. "You need to face that."
Knowing her fragile psyche would feel the blast of atrocity and buckle, he thought of every horrendous act he'd ever committed. There was no way she could possibly accept him as is. It would be madness, and at the moment, she seemed very much sane.
Leaning in, he whispered right next to her lips, "Can you live with that? You can't pick and choose. It's all or nothing, little girl."
River's knees bowed as waves of ugliness pounded her, a relentless storm of truth. She fought to hold on, weathering the hurt, and not for the first time, recklessly confused by the attraction. Logically, she could not drink her poison and still live.
Mustering the last bit of defiance she had left, she glared back. "Can you?"
It hit him then, his own truth catching him off guard. He couldn't.
Marcus released River and she stumbled back, immediately nursing her tender wrists. She didn't belong with someone like him, he would turn her black, destroy the opposing forces that had attracted them so fiercely.
He couldn't ruin her. So instead, he turned and walked away.
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For the next several days, neither saw much of the other. Marcus steered clear, and River didn't impose, letting him have his distance.
This new-found consideration wasn't something Marcus was used to. If any of his colleagues knew he'd picked to spare the girl by choosing not to corrupt her, well, let's just say he'd be out a job.
When being in the same house became too much, Marcus started taking trips to the city, immersing himself in the work that normally filled him with a great sense of satisfaction. But staring out his large office window, the bright lights of Londinium filling his vision, he was distracted, itching for the one thing he denied himself.
Marcus looked at the clock, automatically calculating the time in Bellerophon. It was approximately 1600 hours there. He imagined that River was swimming in the pool as she often did in the golden afternoons, floating still and silent as death. Puzzled by the routine, he had asked her once what she was trying to achieve, and she had simply answered, "It's quiet."
He wanted to be with her now, hear her talk about random things, her perspective never dull. He wouldn't even mind if she teased him in that way she did. It had become almost endearing, much like everything else he originally found trying about her.
Pulling out her file for the hundredth time, Marcus read through it, trying to understand this creature who enraptured him so. Maybe if he could figure her out, she could be simplified and discarded along with the rest. There was always a way around these things.
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Back on the island, there was a scratching sound somewhere in the distance, pulling River awake. Opening her eyes, she blinked and listened for the sound, but only heard the light blowing of the wind as she stared up at the dim ceiling.
The atmosphere felt chilly, and the light from the moon cast her room in an ethereal hue. Turning her head towards the cool air, she noticed that the blue-glow was brighter just beyond the billowing curtains.
She watched as they blew freely, rising and falling along with the gusts. It was a gentle dance that was almost hypnotizing. It suddenly came to her that there was nothing separating her from the open air and balcony beyond.
River carefully crawled from her bed to shut the glass door. Every night was like this, waking to a fierce chill because she couldn't seem to remember to lock up. As she slid the door closed, the room became still, warming instantly.
Then she heard it again. A clicking sound. It was louder this time. She tried to place it among the noises she'd grown accustomed to, the creaks of the settling house, but it belonged nowhere.
Click, click, click. It was advancing, drawing nearer. River froze in terror, unable to rationalize the noise. There was a pattern to the clicks, sets of four repeated. Then they ceased abruptly, right outside her door.
River slowly backed into the far corner of the room, a feeling of dread knotting in her stomach, causing her skin to tighten, every molecule aware. Except, she did want to know. Her back hit a hard surface and she slumped down, shutting her eyes and mind, refusing to reach out and determine the source.
The door handle rattled, jerking her back to reality. As River watched the long lever turn, she tried to shrink further into the wall, digging her heals into the ground and pushing futilely against the unmoving mass. The door creaked as it was pushed open, the sound long and drawn out, propelling her anxiety further.
"I'm sleeping. REM. A flight of the imagination. I'm not right and this is not real." River whispered the words internally as a hulking figure emerged from the dark hall, sniffing like something wild.
The clicking was sharp now, and River realized with horror that the sound was from its claws tapping hard against the floor as it walked. There was a smell, like something rotting, something that had died ages ago.
Then she saw it and it her, its blazing yellow eyes still and unblinking. Its skin was dark, and it was larger than a man, hunched, with clawed hands dangling at the end of abnormally long arms. One swipe from those blades would cause insurmountable damage.
A wave of nausea washed over her as it inched closer, stalking sideways as if trying to figure out the best angle in which to pounce. Her heart was pounding, blood racing and for all the times she wished she was dead, she had never wanted to live more.
A whimper escaped past her trembling lips. "Please. Don't."
The creature cocked its head, and she swore it grinned at her, its long, skinny teeth looking razor sharp. River swallowed thickly, this was it.
In a flash, it was upon her, pinning her small body to the ground. Her head smacked the floor hard, causing everything to become unfocused. As she tried to thrash, fight the useless fight, she found she couldn't move under its tremendous weight. The air had left her lungs, and she was certain she was being crushed.
A sharp pain stabbed her thigh, and she cried out, everything a blur. Its hind claw had pierced her leg, sinking in deep and hitting bone. The pain was so unbearable, she now hoped the thing would be quick, show her mercy before it devoured her whole.
Then she felt a sudden weightlessness, and for a split second imagined she was gone, it was over…until she heard the creature let out a guttural cry as it hit the opposite wall with a thunderous crash, causing the room to shudder violently.
River scampered up blindly, straining through the haze. The room was dim, and her vision swirled. But there it was, the familiar outline of Marcus, squaring off with the thing that had already risen to full height.
It shrunk back defensively, crouching to all fours, and snarled viciously at Marcus who stood impassive, simply waiting, a game. The thing grew easily impatient and leapt up. Marcus raised his arm, batting it down with the back of his fist in one swift motion.
Hitting the floor with a bone crunching sound, it faltered a moment before scrambling up and striking again. This time, its face connected with the end of Marcus' foot as he lashed out, its teeth shattering as its head snapped back. Blood oozed everywhere, making the insistent thing slip on its own fluids.
Marcus reached down, grabbing the creature by the neck. It flailed, shredding the arm it was held by with its razor sharp claws. But Marcus flinched not.
He said something to it in a language River didn't understand, and then dropped the damaged thing to the ground where it scampered off like a dog, running out of the room and leaving behind a thick trail of blood.
Marcus shot River a look, and then turned, leaving her behind to follow the creature.
Trying to stand on shaky legs, River used the wall for support, wavering a moment before moving forward. The pain in her injured leg was an afterthought as she followed the slippery trail. Then slowly, the feeling began to return, every step causing her to wince in agony as she trekked through the large house, down the hall, up some stairs and through another corridor until she reached a circular room.
Marcus was standing across the room with his back towards her, facing an open door and looking down at something just beyond. Instantly, River knew that this was all her fault. Her heart stuttered faster with a mixture of guilt, fear and apprehension.
Wind screamed out the narrow opening, blowing a torrent of icy air into the room. River's hair whipped around her, her scant nightgown plastered to her flesh by the velocity as she stepped closer, peering down into the black cavern situated impossibly in the middle of the mansion; through the very door that she had opened hours before.
Slamming the entry shut, Marcus muttered something and turned to face River, his eyes shouting at her before his words could. How could she do something so stupid? Opening a portal to another dimension, one that happened to be filled with carnivorous demons. She was lucky only one had found the opening. These types usually traveled in packs.
As Marcus looked River up and down, taking in her tattered gown, the blood streaking down her leg, he had never felt so furious. She had been inches away from death. If he hadn't come when he did… if he hadn't been missing her, he corrected, everything would have been lost.
River opened her mouth to speak, to apologize, but found she couldn't. The room was spinning faster and faster and there was a distant high-pitched laughter that grew more shrill. Marcus faded in and out as River wavered, as she desperately tried to focus on him, fight the thing that was sucking her back inside herself, but there was no strength left, and in an instant, everything went black.
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When River woke next, it took her a moment to place herself. She was in a large bed, soft and lavish, not her own. Struggling to sit up, she still felt woozy and drained. The arms she pushed herself up with bowed against the effort, but she managed, plopping back against the pillows and headboard, breathing heavily from the effort.
It was quiet and still very dark, but she could feel she wasn't alone. His presence was always grand whether he was asleep or not. Turning her head to the right, she found that Marcus was in fact slumbering, lying flat on his back next to her, bare down to where the sheet came up to his navel.
He was so still, it was unnerving.
The image of that thing lingered in her recent memory, but at least the stench was gone and she felt clean. River lifted a hand to her hair, the locks still slightly damp, and realized he must have bathed her during her sleep. Looking down, she found she had been redressed in a nightgown, one not shredded and drenched in blood.
Moving her right leg, River grimaced. The ache was dull and raw as she heaved it up, the sheet falling away. She pulled back the silky material of her nightdress to reveal a large bandage covering her injury. Lightly, she ran her fingers over the thick layers which covered a good part of her thigh, noticing a faint outline of red seeping through. He had done this too. Fixed her up and put her back together again.
Looking back over to the large form next to her, River was filled with a sense of warmth, and despite everything or maybe because of it, she couldn't help but love him.
Scooting the short distance, River ignored the pain and sunk down into Marcus arms, where she carefully fit her body alongside of his, nestling her head onto his chest. She felt him stir beneath her, so she held on, anchoring herself to his strength, never wanting to let go.
Tensing as she curled her fingers into his side, River waited for him to chuck her, reject her as he had weeks before. She knew he was awake, he always slept light, and she hoped against all hope to remain in his arms.
Marcus shifted and placed his large hand on the small of River's back, where it lingered heavily before he smoothed it up over the silken material to the naked skin just below her shoulders. As he touched her, slow and deliberate, River had to remember to breathe.
Then he pulled her closer, caging her to him, his strength encompassing and the heat from his body sedating. A flood of relief washed over River, and she buried her face in Marcus' skin, euphoric at finally having her affections reciprocated. Tears pricked out of the corners of her eyes, excess from the uncontained emotions she felt.
"I'm sorry." River mumbled against him. She could taste her own salty tears as she pressed her lips against his skin, kissing him softly.
Marcus raised his other had to River's hair, stroking it softly, and holding her as close as possible without crushing her. "Just Sleep." He encouraged, reveling in how good their bodies felt together. He could feel her heart beating, fluttering and small but steady, and he supposed that was the way he preferred it.
TBC…
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