(no subject)
COMM: fandom_muses - Stupefy
VERSE: canon
WORD COUNT: 1318
She watched as miniature planets danced over head, circling (or more precisely, 'ovalling') around a tiny yellow star. She had been forbidden from touching them long ago, and now she just observed, a wide grin on her tiny face. She didn't know how they worked, or how they remained suspended in the air, but what she did know was that it was all for her.
You're special, the man in black had told her. You're an unpolished gem.
She didn't know what he meant, but she giggled anyway. She liked being special. She was all of eight years old and she was being promised everything she wanted- when she was older. The man in black was her friend. She had told her parents about him, but they brushed him off and claimed him as imaginary.
Are you real? She asked him one day. Mum and dad say you're not.
The man chuckled. I'm real. Just like you.
She grinned up at him. Really?
Yes, really.
And that was all she needed. He said he was real; she had no reason to deny his statements. Even then, she knew all about imaginary friends. They were stuff like unicorns, or dragons, or people with wings; they were her age. They weren't grown-ups who looked normal and talked funny. Not to mention, imaginary friends used magic. He used science. All of it proved to him being real.
One day you'll get to see the stars, Allison. Won't that be a real treat?
She giggled. He was so silly sometimes.
By the time she was thirteen, she had begun to wonder if he really was just some sort of weird imagined thing. She did have a very vivid imagination, or so she had been told; what with all her talk about going to other planets and seeing stars. That was all his fault, too, since he had promised. She was thirteen now, a real teenager, and he still said she wasn't old enough!
She had been very cross with him for a long while. Every time he visited, which was once a month, she ignored him.
Allison, there is no point to this, he told her.
I am too old enough! I'm a teenager now! She crossed her arms and pouted in the manner spoiled children often do.
He always had given her what she wanted; toys, jewelry, pretty things from other worlds that danced when she commanded and lit her room with hundreds of colours. The fact that he was still denying her both baffled and angered her.
When you're older. Then I'll take you wherever you like, he offered as if it could assuage his apparent shortcoming.
She continued to pout up at him. Why not now? Why do I have to be older?
The man in black chuckled and brushed back strands of her blonde hair. You're not ready.
'Not ready', he said. Allison wasn't sure he'd ever think she'd be ready at all.
She had chosen a long, black dress for the evening. There were no frills, no silly pieces that glittered in light, nothing overly done. It was simple and it was elegant; she was certain he would love it when he saw her wearing it. She had even dyed her hair dark - her natural blonde didn't mesh with the dress, so it had to go. Everything needed to be perfect.
She had to be perfect.
He would be coming soon. Allison giggled to herself about him - he had gone from the man who offered her the universe to a would-be suitor (and he would accept, she told herself, because she was old enough). She had names for him: the man in black, Seta, Estram, Keller. They all seemed to be his and yet not, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was eighteen, and she was old enough.
When he appeared, stepping calmly out of a mirror, she had to do everything to keep herself from dashing to him. "Like clockwork," she said. "You always arrive right on time."
He smiled plainly at her. "I enjoy being punctual, my dear Allison." Then he approached, his cold eyes slowly looking over her body. "You have excellent taste."
"I kept you in mind when picking it. I thought you would enjoy it."
He chuckled. "You were right." Slowly he reached out for her, and she let him; he ran a cool gloved hand along her jaw until he cupped her chin in his hand. "Allison, my dear?"
"Yes?"
"Look into my eyes."
And she did.
She couldn't quite figure out what was going on; just that suddenly, she felt cold, stiff, she couldn't move as she wanted or as she willed. She could still feel him there, holding her chin, and she tried to say something, anything to him.
Nothing.
"Pity you weren't as smart as you thought yourself to be. You were easily fooled; easily manipulated by a constant in your life." She could hear a tone of malice to his words, and if she could have shiver she would have. "But you've finally come to your point of usefulness!"
He drew his hand away and stepped back. At some point he must've taken a vial (or she thought it was a vial) from his pockets, for in his hand he had one. He held the lip of it towards her mouth, and she felt him carefully force her jaws apart.
"You see, you are currently the host of a Trifelgun's Leech. Terrible name for the thing, I admit, and not an appropriate description for what it is, but one that shall suit our discussion well enough. Now, as I had been saying. Trifelgun's Leeches are amusing little things..."
She felt something twist in her.
"When used appropriately, and in the right quantity, these things can stir up paranoia like none other. Toss one into a peace treaty and you'll end up with the corpses of a dozen delegates, all slain by one another."
Pain shot down one side of her face and she wanted to scream. Why was he doing this? He promised! She was old enough-
"Another interesting little fact is that the body of the leech, when outside of either a host or a proper balance of certain chemicals, dies within an hour of constant exposure to oxygen. The body itself turns to dust minutes after."
He promised. She desperately wanted to cry, both out of betrayal and the increasing levels of pain.
"The only drawback is they take years to grow. They need a host. Something to take root in, so to speak. Something to feed off of. Thoughts, intellectual stimulation, anger, hormones, so on and so forth. Chemicals alone cannot properly create one of these little creatures. Should a person wish to have one, they need a suitable host." The man in black grinned widely at her. "You, Allison, served that purpose beautifully."
She felt the need to choke as something began touching her tongue, the back of her throat. Something that wasn't quite solid, but obviously there. She knew the word for it, it was just on the tip (or the back) of her tongue. It was just out of reach.
"The thing is, with Trifelgun's Leeches, is they have the unfortunate tendency to damage said hosts when extracted. Sometimes it's a loss of intellect, other times it's just motor skills. A few, though... oh, they were rather unlucky. Brain dead."
Something purple began to slide into the vial. Tears streamed down her cheeks. No, no, this wasn't fair. This wasn't what she had been told, what she promised. He was supposed to take her to see the stars, to make her his. Not- not this.
"Let's see how you fair."
The last thing she heard was him corking the vial. Then her body crumpled limply to the ground, lungs still breathing, heart still beating. All the signs of life were there- but her eyes, great green things, stared blankly up at him, as if in accusation.
He sighed. "As expected."
The Master turned and stepped back through his mirror, leaving the crumpled and empty body of Allison in his wake.
VERSE: canon
WORD COUNT: 1318
She watched as miniature planets danced over head, circling (or more precisely, 'ovalling') around a tiny yellow star. She had been forbidden from touching them long ago, and now she just observed, a wide grin on her tiny face. She didn't know how they worked, or how they remained suspended in the air, but what she did know was that it was all for her.
You're special, the man in black had told her. You're an unpolished gem.
She didn't know what he meant, but she giggled anyway. She liked being special. She was all of eight years old and she was being promised everything she wanted- when she was older. The man in black was her friend. She had told her parents about him, but they brushed him off and claimed him as imaginary.
Are you real? She asked him one day. Mum and dad say you're not.
The man chuckled. I'm real. Just like you.
She grinned up at him. Really?
Yes, really.
And that was all she needed. He said he was real; she had no reason to deny his statements. Even then, she knew all about imaginary friends. They were stuff like unicorns, or dragons, or people with wings; they were her age. They weren't grown-ups who looked normal and talked funny. Not to mention, imaginary friends used magic. He used science. All of it proved to him being real.
One day you'll get to see the stars, Allison. Won't that be a real treat?
She giggled. He was so silly sometimes.
By the time she was thirteen, she had begun to wonder if he really was just some sort of weird imagined thing. She did have a very vivid imagination, or so she had been told; what with all her talk about going to other planets and seeing stars. That was all his fault, too, since he had promised. She was thirteen now, a real teenager, and he still said she wasn't old enough!
She had been very cross with him for a long while. Every time he visited, which was once a month, she ignored him.
Allison, there is no point to this, he told her.
I am too old enough! I'm a teenager now! She crossed her arms and pouted in the manner spoiled children often do.
He always had given her what she wanted; toys, jewelry, pretty things from other worlds that danced when she commanded and lit her room with hundreds of colours. The fact that he was still denying her both baffled and angered her.
When you're older. Then I'll take you wherever you like, he offered as if it could assuage his apparent shortcoming.
She continued to pout up at him. Why not now? Why do I have to be older?
The man in black chuckled and brushed back strands of her blonde hair. You're not ready.
'Not ready', he said. Allison wasn't sure he'd ever think she'd be ready at all.
She had chosen a long, black dress for the evening. There were no frills, no silly pieces that glittered in light, nothing overly done. It was simple and it was elegant; she was certain he would love it when he saw her wearing it. She had even dyed her hair dark - her natural blonde didn't mesh with the dress, so it had to go. Everything needed to be perfect.
She had to be perfect.
He would be coming soon. Allison giggled to herself about him - he had gone from the man who offered her the universe to a would-be suitor (and he would accept, she told herself, because she was old enough). She had names for him: the man in black, Seta, Estram, Keller. They all seemed to be his and yet not, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was eighteen, and she was old enough.
When he appeared, stepping calmly out of a mirror, she had to do everything to keep herself from dashing to him. "Like clockwork," she said. "You always arrive right on time."
He smiled plainly at her. "I enjoy being punctual, my dear Allison." Then he approached, his cold eyes slowly looking over her body. "You have excellent taste."
"I kept you in mind when picking it. I thought you would enjoy it."
He chuckled. "You were right." Slowly he reached out for her, and she let him; he ran a cool gloved hand along her jaw until he cupped her chin in his hand. "Allison, my dear?"
"Yes?"
"Look into my eyes."
And she did.
She couldn't quite figure out what was going on; just that suddenly, she felt cold, stiff, she couldn't move as she wanted or as she willed. She could still feel him there, holding her chin, and she tried to say something, anything to him.
Nothing.
"Pity you weren't as smart as you thought yourself to be. You were easily fooled; easily manipulated by a constant in your life." She could hear a tone of malice to his words, and if she could have shiver she would have. "But you've finally come to your point of usefulness!"
He drew his hand away and stepped back. At some point he must've taken a vial (or she thought it was a vial) from his pockets, for in his hand he had one. He held the lip of it towards her mouth, and she felt him carefully force her jaws apart.
"You see, you are currently the host of a Trifelgun's Leech. Terrible name for the thing, I admit, and not an appropriate description for what it is, but one that shall suit our discussion well enough. Now, as I had been saying. Trifelgun's Leeches are amusing little things..."
She felt something twist in her.
"When used appropriately, and in the right quantity, these things can stir up paranoia like none other. Toss one into a peace treaty and you'll end up with the corpses of a dozen delegates, all slain by one another."
Pain shot down one side of her face and she wanted to scream. Why was he doing this? He promised! She was old enough-
"Another interesting little fact is that the body of the leech, when outside of either a host or a proper balance of certain chemicals, dies within an hour of constant exposure to oxygen. The body itself turns to dust minutes after."
He promised. She desperately wanted to cry, both out of betrayal and the increasing levels of pain.
"The only drawback is they take years to grow. They need a host. Something to take root in, so to speak. Something to feed off of. Thoughts, intellectual stimulation, anger, hormones, so on and so forth. Chemicals alone cannot properly create one of these little creatures. Should a person wish to have one, they need a suitable host." The man in black grinned widely at her. "You, Allison, served that purpose beautifully."
She felt the need to choke as something began touching her tongue, the back of her throat. Something that wasn't quite solid, but obviously there. She knew the word for it, it was just on the tip (or the back) of her tongue. It was just out of reach.
"The thing is, with Trifelgun's Leeches, is they have the unfortunate tendency to damage said hosts when extracted. Sometimes it's a loss of intellect, other times it's just motor skills. A few, though... oh, they were rather unlucky. Brain dead."
Something purple began to slide into the vial. Tears streamed down her cheeks. No, no, this wasn't fair. This wasn't what she had been told, what she promised. He was supposed to take her to see the stars, to make her his. Not- not this.
"Let's see how you fair."
The last thing she heard was him corking the vial. Then her body crumpled limply to the ground, lungs still breathing, heart still beating. All the signs of life were there- but her eyes, great green things, stared blankly up at him, as if in accusation.
He sighed. "As expected."
The Master turned and stepped back through his mirror, leaving the crumpled and empty body of Allison in his wake.