They told it that it would hurt. They warned it a million times, but it ignored everything and everyone, for it was her duty.
The two creepers met in a dark little room. Catherine smiled creepily, in that weird way only she could smile. Her new apprentice stared at the ground, scared. It was alright, thought. Soon, it would be over and in the end…she would forget the concept of pain itself.
"Well, then, it is all settled…What about a new name, dear? After a week, more or less, I bet your parents would hate to have such a stain in the name of the family…"
"Ah…I…don't know…"
"I will choose a new one, then…Even my guys have new names, you know? One doesn't need to be sent to these amazing Players to be a disgrace!"
"What…will…it be?"
"Umm…I know! Yours. You are the fifty Yours, to be exact. The controlling guys just plain love it! Umm…I will ask Zipper for some of her things for you…oh, yes, you seem like the kind that would be perfect for the violent persons!"
She shivered.
"Oooh! I should sell you, you know? I generally give you out for free, but this is a special case…a violence taker newcomer! All clean…and so small! Plus, I need money…"
Catherine kept on talking to herself like the lunatic she was.
One day of expectation. The second day, bought. The third day was a travel and gifts from the hands of her new, opened up friend. The fourth day was a day of suffering and malice. The fifth day was the day after the pain, a toy thrown to a side, a new routine.
It will never hurt again.
It keeps happening for…let's see three years. It is enough. From someone to just Yours.
A missing eye, a wide smile, standing on her own little room, cheerfully clawing on her little diary as if to write something. She is writing down the ones she wants to meet yet. The most disgusting, sick and sadistic creatures…the worse they are, the more apprentices wish for them!
An eternity of plain and simple suffering is a paradise if you don't feel pain. None of them can be hurt, even if they can still die. Agony, happiness, pleasure, lunacy…whatever! They just play around with their own lives, looking for their loved ones and kneeling down before them.
Their soul is made out of submission on its purest state…if something "pure" is left in them, that is!
Their dream selves are tainted and twisted into Player Dolls for the Real Players. Creatures made for them, just for them and for no other purpose…
She giggles and looks in the chests. Where is that thing?
Ribbons, collars, swords…things of all shapes and sizes, made for several different reasons. Mostly for hurting.
There it is!
A short, colorful blade. This one is for her neck, for the one that liked to open it.
This was a part she usually liked a lot. It had been a while since Catherine had sorted her out for these clients who dreamed to actually eat something while still alive and agonizing. She mostly worked in dreams, thought, as a little child with a big smile.
Over time she got addicted to herself.
Using her mouth, her pawns and the ground, she takes off pieces of her neck, breathing quickly and heavily. She takes as much as she can without fainting due to blood loss.
Salty…tasty…it takes everything away with it. She could be sharing this right now, but she isn't. One can't have everything, can they? It is inebriating, impossible to stop. She will kill herself doing that once again…but it will all be worth it.
Someone else enters the room, stopping near her.
"What a shame…you are wasting your respawns, you know."
It gets another knife and cheerfully joins the child for dinner.