Double Drabble: Driven
Title: Driven
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Suzie.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 452: Addiction at tw100.
Spoilers: Everything Changes.
Summary: The glove has Suzie gripped in an unbreakable addiction.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: This one’s a double drabble.
Suzie tells herself over and over again that she doesn’t have to do this; she can stop any time she chooses, because she’s the one in control. But at the back of her mind, a little voice keeps whispering, “Are you really?”
She should listen to it, and yet she knows she won’t, because a louder voice in her head keeps urging her onwards. For a long time she managed to convince herself that voice was her own, pushing her to try again, but it’s not; it’s the glove. Perhaps she’s known that all along, just didn’t want to admit it to herself.
It doesn’t speak to her in words, as such; it’s more impressions, like promises whispered so softly, so enticingly, that she always gives in, takes another life only to restore it for a few brief seconds. She learns more every time, but complete mastery still eludes her.
Part of her wants to put the glove away and never look at it again, but she’s driven to continue by a gnawing hunger that won’t let her abandon her experiments. Using the glove makes her feel so good, so powerful, she’s like a God!
Hopelessly addicted, she’ll never quit.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Suzie.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 452: Addiction at tw100.
Spoilers: Everything Changes.
Summary: The glove has Suzie gripped in an unbreakable addiction.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: This one’s a double drabble.
Suzie tells herself over and over again that she doesn’t have to do this; she can stop any time she chooses, because she’s the one in control. But at the back of her mind, a little voice keeps whispering, “Are you really?”
She should listen to it, and yet she knows she won’t, because a louder voice in her head keeps urging her onwards. For a long time she managed to convince herself that voice was her own, pushing her to try again, but it’s not; it’s the glove. Perhaps she’s known that all along, just didn’t want to admit it to herself.
It doesn’t speak to her in words, as such; it’s more impressions, like promises whispered so softly, so enticingly, that she always gives in, takes another life only to restore it for a few brief seconds. She learns more every time, but complete mastery still eludes her.
Part of her wants to put the glove away and never look at it again, but she’s driven to continue by a gnawing hunger that won’t let her abandon her experiments. Using the glove makes her feel so good, so powerful, she’s like a God!
Hopelessly addicted, she’ll never quit.
The End