A more serious look returned to his face as she made her request; he didn't like people asking him for things, especially not freaky little mad girls who sucked on his emotions as if they were eating candy. Still, she'd made him realise a few things and added weight to the decision that had been weighing on his mind. The least he could do would be to throw her a bone.
"Just a bite-sized treat for you. Wouldn't want your poor little mind to grow fat on all the bad things in here."
Snarling, a growl in his throat, he gathered together a pile of memories that he thought she'd like; rape and murder, torture and a slow death, bloodlust and sexual violence all rolled into one. He even threw in a few new ones for her to play with, including a couple of the guards he'd murdered at the facility with Pyro - as well as the blonde he'd killed in St. Petersburg. That one would probably be the centrepiece of his emotional feast. Staring at her, he consciously threw them at her, his own way of thanking her for what she'd done for him. He'd never voice his gratitude, but she'd know it from his mental gift.
She giggled gleefully, taking everything he offered and storing it. Some of it she just allowed to wash right over her. Loving the way her skin tingled at every single dark desire and emotion he had.
She knew most of them were attached to memories, she knew these were all things he'd done. She didn't care. If it were up to her she'd drape herself across him and take every single thing from him until she was just a happy little empath, full of all the darkness he carried.
But then he'd have none, and she might never get a refill. Best to just leave him with the darkness, and take bitesize chunks.
"Got to get out, got to go play. You know it's the only thing to make them stay. Fight and rut and get a kill. It's the best way to get a fill."
"Just a bite-sized treat for you. Wouldn't want your poor little mind to grow fat on all the bad things in here."
Snarling, a growl in his throat, he gathered together a pile of memories that he thought she'd like; rape and murder, torture and a slow death, bloodlust and sexual violence all rolled into one. He even threw in a few new ones for her to play with, including a couple of the guards he'd murdered at the facility with Pyro - as well as the blonde he'd killed in St. Petersburg. That one would probably be the centrepiece of his emotional feast. Staring at her, he consciously threw them at her, his own way of thanking her for what she'd done for him. He'd never voice his gratitude, but she'd know it from his mental gift.
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She knew most of them were attached to memories, she knew these were all things he'd done. She didn't care. If it were up to her she'd drape herself across him and take every single thing from him until she was just a happy little empath, full of all the darkness he carried.
But then he'd have none, and she might never get a refill. Best to just leave him with the darkness, and take bitesize chunks.
"Got to get out, got to go play. You know it's the only thing to make them stay. Fight and rut and get a kill. It's the best way to get a fill."
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