Sm_Monthly Day 6
Title: 'Miles to Go Before I Sleep'
Author: Lils
Theme: Descent
Genre: Angst
Version: Animanga AU
Rating: PG-13
A prequel, of sorts, of a prompt way back in February: http://lilian413.livejournal.com/79878.html
She was shivering. It was cold in the Dark Kingdom, so very, very cold… she was usually quite comfortable during cold days, being the mistress of ice and all. But this chill was different: it was the kind of frigid temperatures that seeped into your bones one inch at a time, freezing you from the inside out. It began like a small tickle at the very tip of your toes, and then spread through your feet and up your legs, until the tickling sensation turned into a burn, and then into nothing at all.
The weight of the collar around her neck was heavier than it should be. It chafed, it itched, and it was slowly but surely driving her insane. Binding her powers was surprisingly easy; they had snapped a magic dampening collar on her and she was as weak as puppy. What good was training in self-defense when your opponent can blast you into a wall with just a thought?
Her fuku did little to protect her from the harsh elements. What was left of it anyway; her skirt was but tatters hanging from her waist, the silky cloth of her bows a distant memory. The body suit was jagged and torn, leaving several inches of skin completely exposed. She could see the red scars crisscrossing her midsection, recent and old wounds mixing and matching like a horrible quilt of pain. Her upper thigh still bled, pieces of crystal still imbedded in her skin. It hurt, and she knew she should pull them out, but the threat of infection was but a distant concern right now. Her gloveless hands - it had been the first thing he had removed when… when it had happened - were clamped together on her lap, a mimicry of prayer. But who would she pray to? There was no moon in the Dark Kingdom, no light at all. Who would listen to her cries for help and not revel in them?
A scuffling noise came from a few feet to her left. A pair of yellow eyes regarded her curiously, before the critter decided she wasn’t worth its time and disappeared back into the darkness it had come from. Mercury wished she could follow it-spending eternity meandering through the shadows of the Dark Kingdom seems a hell of a lot better than staying in this prison, awaiting a fate worse than death.
As if called forth by her thoughts, a shadow flickered in front of her and Zoisite stepped out of thin air. “And how are we doing today?” he asked cheerfully, kneeling down by her side. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her throat, and his smile turned even wider in response.
“That good, uh? My, it seems my youma did a number on you.” He flicked a fingers against the remains of her skirt, and she scuttled back, panic and disgust clawing inside her throat.
Not again, please, not again!
“Oohhh,” he giggles, almost clapping his hands in delight. Mercury cannot rationalize what she sees, cannot wrap her mind around it: he is a handsome man, beautiful even, some would say, but there is such wrongness about him! His eyes shine with crazed light, and he takes genuine joy in watching her squirm helplessly under his gaze. It shouldn’t be like that, she knows, he shouldn’t be like that at all. He should hold her, cradle her against his chest and whisper sweet nothings in her ear-he should hold her hand and kiss her lips, promises of eternal love echoing around them…
His hand grabs hold of her hair and yank her viciously towards him. She cries out, the pain cutting through a fog of semi-memories that vanish into puffs of smoke. “Are you dreaming again, my little snowflake? You know I don’t like it when you leave me talking to myself.” There are worlds of threat in that sentence, and she tries to shake her head but his fingers are too tightly wrapped around the short stands of her hair. He buries his face on the crook her neck, a twisted parody of a lover’s embrace and she stiffens; last time he did that it ended quite unpleasantly for her. But he seems to be in no hurry to rape he today… instead, he just inhales deeply, the warmth of his breath tickling at the sensitive skin of her nape.
“You smell so good,” he mutters, his grip on her hair loosening just enough for her to relax the abused muscles of her shoulders and fall back against the wall. She remains silent, knowing better than to provoke him when he’s like this. Perhaps if she bores him he’ll leave, she muses, all along knowing she has more chances of being rescued than of Zoisite getting tired of her anytime soon. He is obsessed with her for some reason, going as far as taking her from Nephrite - the one who captured her in the first place - and stashing her away from prying eyes. She had thought it a blessing at first; who in their right mind would wish to remain in Beryl’s presence more than a heartbeat than they had to?
He is murmuring something in a language she can’t understand, but it makes the tiny hairs on her arm stand on end. It’s not a nice feeling-she can feel power around them, summoned here by his will, and it’s oily and sticky, like a scorpion’s poison. With a start she realizes his hand is moving up her waist, dangerously close to places she doesn’t want him approaching ever again. She tries to get him off her, but the air has gotten heavy and she can’t breathe, and darkness seems to close in. He holds on like a demented parasite, his hand squeezing her breast until she screams in pain. Only when tears fall does he stop, and he slowly, almost tenderly brushes them off her cheeks.
“Now, now, snowflake, don’t cry.”
She closes her eyes, unable to stand the sight of his eyes; what dances in those green pupils could never be mistaken for compassion, and yet why does her mind insist in doing so? Mercury feels him shift against her, turning her so she knows rests on his lap. She bites her lip to avoid mewling in despair. She knows what’s coming, she was a fool for thinking she might be able to distract him.
Almost half-heartedly, she tries to summon ice to her. For a moment, unseen wind stirs Zoisite’s hair, but his smile comes a split second before the pain does. The collar sends bolts of electrify through her and she arches as it runs through her abused body, unsuccessfully trying to dispel it. When current stops, the collar emits one last buzz, accompanied by a burst of blue sparks and falls silent.
“Tsk, tsk. I thought you had learned by now. And this is the girl genius I’ve heard so much about?”
His mockery stings even more because he brings back memories of her life before-before this. Before the Dark Kingdom. She is tempted to curse at him, but it would only serve to amuse him further. So she just falls limp in his embrace, defeated, spent. She has nothing left in her to fight him with, not will, not reason, nor magic.
And he knows it.
“That’s it, just let it go,” he murmurs against her hair, his tone soft and intimate, belying what he intends to do. Mercury says nothing, just watches out of empty, colorless eyes as he begins to undress her.
When they find and rescue her, almost a week after that, she will not speak of her time in the Dark Kingdom. She will not speak at all for a long, long time.
Author: Lils
Theme: Descent
Genre: Angst
Version: Animanga AU
Rating: PG-13
A prequel, of sorts, of a prompt way back in February: http://lilian413.livejournal.com/79878.html
She was shivering. It was cold in the Dark Kingdom, so very, very cold… she was usually quite comfortable during cold days, being the mistress of ice and all. But this chill was different: it was the kind of frigid temperatures that seeped into your bones one inch at a time, freezing you from the inside out. It began like a small tickle at the very tip of your toes, and then spread through your feet and up your legs, until the tickling sensation turned into a burn, and then into nothing at all.
The weight of the collar around her neck was heavier than it should be. It chafed, it itched, and it was slowly but surely driving her insane. Binding her powers was surprisingly easy; they had snapped a magic dampening collar on her and she was as weak as puppy. What good was training in self-defense when your opponent can blast you into a wall with just a thought?
Her fuku did little to protect her from the harsh elements. What was left of it anyway; her skirt was but tatters hanging from her waist, the silky cloth of her bows a distant memory. The body suit was jagged and torn, leaving several inches of skin completely exposed. She could see the red scars crisscrossing her midsection, recent and old wounds mixing and matching like a horrible quilt of pain. Her upper thigh still bled, pieces of crystal still imbedded in her skin. It hurt, and she knew she should pull them out, but the threat of infection was but a distant concern right now. Her gloveless hands - it had been the first thing he had removed when… when it had happened - were clamped together on her lap, a mimicry of prayer. But who would she pray to? There was no moon in the Dark Kingdom, no light at all. Who would listen to her cries for help and not revel in them?
A scuffling noise came from a few feet to her left. A pair of yellow eyes regarded her curiously, before the critter decided she wasn’t worth its time and disappeared back into the darkness it had come from. Mercury wished she could follow it-spending eternity meandering through the shadows of the Dark Kingdom seems a hell of a lot better than staying in this prison, awaiting a fate worse than death.
As if called forth by her thoughts, a shadow flickered in front of her and Zoisite stepped out of thin air. “And how are we doing today?” he asked cheerfully, kneeling down by her side. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her throat, and his smile turned even wider in response.
“That good, uh? My, it seems my youma did a number on you.” He flicked a fingers against the remains of her skirt, and she scuttled back, panic and disgust clawing inside her throat.
Not again, please, not again!
“Oohhh,” he giggles, almost clapping his hands in delight. Mercury cannot rationalize what she sees, cannot wrap her mind around it: he is a handsome man, beautiful even, some would say, but there is such wrongness about him! His eyes shine with crazed light, and he takes genuine joy in watching her squirm helplessly under his gaze. It shouldn’t be like that, she knows, he shouldn’t be like that at all. He should hold her, cradle her against his chest and whisper sweet nothings in her ear-he should hold her hand and kiss her lips, promises of eternal love echoing around them…
His hand grabs hold of her hair and yank her viciously towards him. She cries out, the pain cutting through a fog of semi-memories that vanish into puffs of smoke. “Are you dreaming again, my little snowflake? You know I don’t like it when you leave me talking to myself.” There are worlds of threat in that sentence, and she tries to shake her head but his fingers are too tightly wrapped around the short stands of her hair. He buries his face on the crook her neck, a twisted parody of a lover’s embrace and she stiffens; last time he did that it ended quite unpleasantly for her. But he seems to be in no hurry to rape he today… instead, he just inhales deeply, the warmth of his breath tickling at the sensitive skin of her nape.
“You smell so good,” he mutters, his grip on her hair loosening just enough for her to relax the abused muscles of her shoulders and fall back against the wall. She remains silent, knowing better than to provoke him when he’s like this. Perhaps if she bores him he’ll leave, she muses, all along knowing she has more chances of being rescued than of Zoisite getting tired of her anytime soon. He is obsessed with her for some reason, going as far as taking her from Nephrite - the one who captured her in the first place - and stashing her away from prying eyes. She had thought it a blessing at first; who in their right mind would wish to remain in Beryl’s presence more than a heartbeat than they had to?
He is murmuring something in a language she can’t understand, but it makes the tiny hairs on her arm stand on end. It’s not a nice feeling-she can feel power around them, summoned here by his will, and it’s oily and sticky, like a scorpion’s poison. With a start she realizes his hand is moving up her waist, dangerously close to places she doesn’t want him approaching ever again. She tries to get him off her, but the air has gotten heavy and she can’t breathe, and darkness seems to close in. He holds on like a demented parasite, his hand squeezing her breast until she screams in pain. Only when tears fall does he stop, and he slowly, almost tenderly brushes them off her cheeks.
“Now, now, snowflake, don’t cry.”
She closes her eyes, unable to stand the sight of his eyes; what dances in those green pupils could never be mistaken for compassion, and yet why does her mind insist in doing so? Mercury feels him shift against her, turning her so she knows rests on his lap. She bites her lip to avoid mewling in despair. She knows what’s coming, she was a fool for thinking she might be able to distract him.
Almost half-heartedly, she tries to summon ice to her. For a moment, unseen wind stirs Zoisite’s hair, but his smile comes a split second before the pain does. The collar sends bolts of electrify through her and she arches as it runs through her abused body, unsuccessfully trying to dispel it. When current stops, the collar emits one last buzz, accompanied by a burst of blue sparks and falls silent.
“Tsk, tsk. I thought you had learned by now. And this is the girl genius I’ve heard so much about?”
His mockery stings even more because he brings back memories of her life before-before this. Before the Dark Kingdom. She is tempted to curse at him, but it would only serve to amuse him further. So she just falls limp in his embrace, defeated, spent. She has nothing left in her to fight him with, not will, not reason, nor magic.
And he knows it.
“That’s it, just let it go,” he murmurs against her hair, his tone soft and intimate, belying what he intends to do. Mercury says nothing, just watches out of empty, colorless eyes as he begins to undress her.
When they find and rescue her, almost a week after that, she will not speak of her time in the Dark Kingdom. She will not speak at all for a long, long time.