More of the torture scene at piece_of_metal
"Good idea, kitten! Why don't you do that? Grab that old ceremonial dagger of Jonathan's from the bookshelf and get to it."
"Oh, very inventive. You're doing okay for a first timer."
Good idea, kitten... good idea, kitten... good idea, kitten...
A smile of epic proportions exploded across my face.
Good idea, kitten.
Right. I was doing things right! I was making him proud! More... I-I have to do more. I have to prove myself to him. I need to make him even more proud! I need to impress him! I need him to tell me again that I'm doing a good job!
Nodding wordlessly to Warren, I went to the desk to pick up Jonathan's dagger. I considered trying to find the venom while I was over there, my eyes skimming all the vials and containers we had resting on the shelf by the desk, trying to remember which one I'd left the venom in. But then I heard another muffled scream as Anya took the scissors from Warren and slashed at Xander before adding more rubbing alcohol.
"Look, Xander. Look at how beautiful she is, like this."
I paused dead in my tracks.
No! No no no! No, she doesn't get so much praise from Warren! She can't just waltz in here and... and show me up! I'm Warren's favorite, not her! She... she's not allowed to do that...
Confused, I gripped the dagger in my hand so tightly that I could feel the gilded jewels of the handle cutting into my palms.
And then, he kissed her. But not like he'd kissed Jonathan at the jail today. Not some quick little peck on the lips to freak Anya out. No, he grabbed her and kissed her like he'd been kissing me earlier. Kissed her like he was... like he was going to do things with her, things that Warren and I were meant to do, that we were going to do today before she came to the door!
So she interrupts us, and now she gets Warren?! Just for cutting Xander once, is that it? Is that her reward or something?! NO. N-no, she can't... I won't let her. She better not even start to think that she can replace me, or... or outdo me! I'm Warren's favorite!
My expression had shifted from the nervous-sick look I'd had before. No, I was angry - you heard me, angry! - and I didn't care now if any of them saw it. I marched over to where Xander was tied to the chair, pushing past Anya's shoulder as I did. There I dropped down to my knees, brandishing the dagger at Xander. I paused to look over my shoulder at where Warren still had his arms around Anya. I gave Warren a serious look, glared thinly at Anya for a moment, before whirling around to grab the fingers on Xander's bound hand.
I didn't need to think about it now. It wasn't about how I pressed the sharp edge of the dagger between his middle and index finger. It wasn't about the way it sunk into that junction, cutting further and further in at it's own leisurely pace until it reached the resistance I assumed to be muscle. It wasn't about Xander's muffled cries of pain. No, this was about me and Warren, and making sure that Anya knew that she couldn't just come in here and steal Warren away just because she happened to be an ex-vengeance demon turned beautiful woman!
I moved to each section of Xander's hand, not so carefully parting the fingers each time, following a sick sort of organized pattern before moving to the other hand. Once or twice I even looked up at Xander, but it wasn't to glare or gloat at him, just to document the amount of pain he seemed to be in and weight it against the amount given to him by Anya. I had to surpass her, you see. Had to prove myself.
After I'd done both hands, I calmly reached to the side, picking up a roll of duct tape that had been lying on the floor (one of many rolls, as a good geek is nothing without duct tape). Tearing off piece by piece, I forced Xander's fingers against the armrests of the chair, taping them firmly in place (each with about six inches of tape to wrap around the armrest each time) so that they were spread, pulling the eight little fresh wounds apart so the air could rush into them.
Pushing myself to my feet, I dared not look at Warren or Anya as I stood, but I did grab the rubbing alcohol away from Anya before turning back to face Xander. I spilled enough of the funny-smelling liquid on both hands to soak them both, and to allow more to slowly run down his skin into the wounds as time passed. With a clenched jaw I examined just how much pain he seemed to be in before turning back to look at Warren again, this time meeting his gaze straight on with a very faint sort of smug look in my thin smile.
"Was that better than ok, Warren?"
"Oh, very inventive. You're doing okay for a first timer."
Good idea, kitten... good idea, kitten... good idea, kitten...
A smile of epic proportions exploded across my face.
Good idea, kitten.
Right. I was doing things right! I was making him proud! More... I-I have to do more. I have to prove myself to him. I need to make him even more proud! I need to impress him! I need him to tell me again that I'm doing a good job!
Nodding wordlessly to Warren, I went to the desk to pick up Jonathan's dagger. I considered trying to find the venom while I was over there, my eyes skimming all the vials and containers we had resting on the shelf by the desk, trying to remember which one I'd left the venom in. But then I heard another muffled scream as Anya took the scissors from Warren and slashed at Xander before adding more rubbing alcohol.
"Look, Xander. Look at how beautiful she is, like this."
I paused dead in my tracks.
No! No no no! No, she doesn't get so much praise from Warren! She can't just waltz in here and... and show me up! I'm Warren's favorite, not her! She... she's not allowed to do that...
Confused, I gripped the dagger in my hand so tightly that I could feel the gilded jewels of the handle cutting into my palms.
And then, he kissed her. But not like he'd kissed Jonathan at the jail today. Not some quick little peck on the lips to freak Anya out. No, he grabbed her and kissed her like he'd been kissing me earlier. Kissed her like he was... like he was going to do things with her, things that Warren and I were meant to do, that we were going to do today before she came to the door!
So she interrupts us, and now she gets Warren?! Just for cutting Xander once, is that it? Is that her reward or something?! NO. N-no, she can't... I won't let her. She better not even start to think that she can replace me, or... or outdo me! I'm Warren's favorite!
My expression had shifted from the nervous-sick look I'd had before. No, I was angry - you heard me, angry! - and I didn't care now if any of them saw it. I marched over to where Xander was tied to the chair, pushing past Anya's shoulder as I did. There I dropped down to my knees, brandishing the dagger at Xander. I paused to look over my shoulder at where Warren still had his arms around Anya. I gave Warren a serious look, glared thinly at Anya for a moment, before whirling around to grab the fingers on Xander's bound hand.
I didn't need to think about it now. It wasn't about how I pressed the sharp edge of the dagger between his middle and index finger. It wasn't about the way it sunk into that junction, cutting further and further in at it's own leisurely pace until it reached the resistance I assumed to be muscle. It wasn't about Xander's muffled cries of pain. No, this was about me and Warren, and making sure that Anya knew that she couldn't just come in here and steal Warren away just because she happened to be an ex-vengeance demon turned beautiful woman!
I moved to each section of Xander's hand, not so carefully parting the fingers each time, following a sick sort of organized pattern before moving to the other hand. Once or twice I even looked up at Xander, but it wasn't to glare or gloat at him, just to document the amount of pain he seemed to be in and weight it against the amount given to him by Anya. I had to surpass her, you see. Had to prove myself.
After I'd done both hands, I calmly reached to the side, picking up a roll of duct tape that had been lying on the floor (one of many rolls, as a good geek is nothing without duct tape). Tearing off piece by piece, I forced Xander's fingers against the armrests of the chair, taping them firmly in place (each with about six inches of tape to wrap around the armrest each time) so that they were spread, pulling the eight little fresh wounds apart so the air could rush into them.
Pushing myself to my feet, I dared not look at Warren or Anya as I stood, but I did grab the rubbing alcohol away from Anya before turning back to face Xander. I spilled enough of the funny-smelling liquid on both hands to soak them both, and to allow more to slowly run down his skin into the wounds as time passed. With a clenched jaw I examined just how much pain he seemed to be in before turning back to look at Warren again, this time meeting his gaze straight on with a very faint sort of smug look in my thin smile.
"Was that better than ok, Warren?"