"Rebel Angel" 4.5/5
anonymous
August 23 2009, 01:58:53 UTC
That evening, Gilbert was on his way to his room to turn in when something hit him from behind. He went down instantly unconscious. When he came to, he was tied to a chair in a darkened room. Picking his head up off his chest, he could just make out the figure of his Rebel Angel tied in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and knew immediately that it was the Russian.
“Fuck it, Ivan. What the hell are you doing?” Gilbert tried unsuccessfully to free himself.
Ivan stepped out of the shadows, a pipe in his hands, and a mad glint in his lavender eyes.
“I am teaching, Gilbert. You need a lesson. And I will teach you.” He stepped forward, drawing a knife from behind his back, smiling gently all the while.
“What the fucking hell do you have her for?” Gilbert asked, trying to sound innocent.
Ivan’s eyes flashed in the dark room. “Consider this an object lesson.” He cocked his head.
“Fuck no! You goddamned communist, leave her the hell alone!” Gilbert struggled fruitlessly against his bonds.
Ivan brought the knife to Alloise’s semi-conscious form, drew it across her face caressingly. The silver of the blade shimmered, reflecting in the Russian’s purple eyes, as he continued to stare at Gilbert. Watching Gilbert squirm seemed to give him great pleasure. He placed the point of the blade on Alloise’s left cheekbone and drew it downward, relishing the sight of the crimson blood there. He made a matching mark on her right side. She moaned lightly from the pain, and Gilbert screwed up his eyes against the sound.
“I saw you enjoying her earlier. She was enjoying you as well. You wanted to make her scream, da? I will make her scream for you.”
Ivan’s tone was so light, one would have thought they were discussing the weather.
“You goddamned son of a bitch!” Gilbert roared.
Ivan merely gazed at Gilbert, a twisted, cruel smile playing on his lips, as he thrust the blade of the knife deep into Alloise’s shoulder. Gilbert imagined he could hear the knife graze the bone, before she screamed. Her scream of pain caused Gilbert to let loose an incoherent string of curses, insults and threats.
Ivan only laughed lightly as he pulled the blade out quickly. He replaced the blade with his fingers, twisting the broken flesh, causing Alloise to scream out loud again. Ever so carefully, Ivan dislocated her arm from the socket, his eyes never wavering from Gilbert’s.
“Fuck you for this! You fucking communist bastard! Fuck you!”
Ivan made a light clucking sound with his tongue.
“My, my… Such language, and in front of the lady, too. You should watch your tongue, Gilbert. Wouldn’t want to lose it, da?”
He smiled once more, yanking his hand carelessly from the Rebel Angel’s bloody shoulder, and moving to stand before Gilbert. Gently, he caressed Gilbert’s jaw, then forced his bloodied fingers inside Gilbert’s slack mouth. Gilbert could taste the blood of his angel, metallic and tangy on his tongue. When Ivan finally removed his fingers from Gilbert’s mouth, he replaced them with his tongue, dancing forcefully with Gilbert’s, cleansing it of his angel’s blood. Smoothly, he wrapped a gag around Gilbert’s mouth, tying the knot tight.
“No, you wouldn’t want to lose your tongue…” He murmured. “And, incidentally, I will be the one doing the fucking here, not you.” He finished, crossing back over to the Rebel Angel.
He knelt beside her chair, licking the blood from where it was drying on her face. He kissed her too, not as harshly as he had kissed Gilbert, but harshly enough.
“Fuck it, Ivan. What the hell are you doing?” Gilbert tried unsuccessfully to free himself.
Ivan stepped out of the shadows, a pipe in his hands, and a mad glint in his lavender eyes.
“I am teaching, Gilbert. You need a lesson. And I will teach you.” He stepped forward, drawing a knife from behind his back, smiling gently all the while.
“What the fucking hell do you have her for?” Gilbert asked, trying to sound innocent.
Ivan’s eyes flashed in the dark room. “Consider this an object lesson.” He cocked his head.
“Fuck no! You goddamned communist, leave her the hell alone!” Gilbert struggled fruitlessly against his bonds.
Ivan brought the knife to Alloise’s semi-conscious form, drew it across her face caressingly. The silver of the blade shimmered, reflecting in the Russian’s purple eyes, as he continued to stare at Gilbert. Watching Gilbert squirm seemed to give him great pleasure. He placed the point of the blade on Alloise’s left cheekbone and drew it downward, relishing the sight of the crimson blood there. He made a matching mark on her right side. She moaned lightly from the pain, and Gilbert screwed up his eyes against the sound.
“I saw you enjoying her earlier. She was enjoying you as well. You wanted to make her scream, da? I will make her scream for you.”
Ivan’s tone was so light, one would have thought they were discussing the weather.
“You goddamned son of a bitch!” Gilbert roared.
Ivan merely gazed at Gilbert, a twisted, cruel smile playing on his lips, as he thrust the blade of the knife deep into Alloise’s shoulder. Gilbert imagined he could hear the knife graze the bone, before she screamed. Her scream of pain caused Gilbert to let loose an incoherent string of curses, insults and threats.
Ivan only laughed lightly as he pulled the blade out quickly. He replaced the blade with his fingers, twisting the broken flesh, causing Alloise to scream out loud again. Ever so carefully, Ivan dislocated her arm from the socket, his eyes never wavering from Gilbert’s.
“Fuck you for this! You fucking communist bastard! Fuck you!”
Ivan made a light clucking sound with his tongue.
“My, my… Such language, and in front of the lady, too. You should watch your tongue, Gilbert. Wouldn’t want to lose it, da?”
He smiled once more, yanking his hand carelessly from the Rebel Angel’s bloody shoulder, and moving to stand before Gilbert. Gently, he caressed Gilbert’s jaw, then forced his bloodied fingers inside Gilbert’s slack mouth. Gilbert could taste the blood of his angel, metallic and tangy on his tongue. When Ivan finally removed his fingers from Gilbert’s mouth, he replaced them with his tongue, dancing forcefully with Gilbert’s, cleansing it of his angel’s blood. Smoothly, he wrapped a gag around Gilbert’s mouth, tying the knot tight.
“No, you wouldn’t want to lose your tongue…” He murmured. “And, incidentally, I will be the one doing the fucking here, not you.” He finished, crossing back over to the Rebel Angel.
He knelt beside her chair, licking the blood from where it was drying on her face. He kissed her too, not as harshly as he had kissed Gilbert, but harshly enough.
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