Title: The privilege to feel
Fandom: Hellraiser
Pairing: Kirsty/Pinhead
Wordcount: ~ 545
Rating: PG-13
Warning: violence, torture ... I mean, hello, Hellraiser :D
Challenge:
daswaisenhaus - [#_1697] If everyone gets to die, then no one will really value death.
Challenge:
100_women - 099. Writer's Choice - Pain
„I knew you would love it here.“
His voice echoes through her mind, being everywhere, just like his caress. Kirsty feels her skin being cut apart, feels the warm sensation of her own blood covering her body … or the pieces of her body that are still left.
She doesn’t know what is left of her today: just her torso, brutally dismembered, or just her head, alone with the pain in her mind. Not that it would make any difference; the pain is never fading, just varying.
Sometimes she tries to tell herself that it is all in her head, that he can’t do anything to her what he hasn’t already done. But then comes a new wave of soreness, one that she doesn’t know yet, and it starts all over.
“Don’t you enjoy it?”
The razorblades draw pictures on her skin, the pins driven into her spell out his name on her chest.
“Isn’t it the loveliest thing you were ever allowed to feel?”
Kirsty hears the tenderness in his voice, feels the genuine emotions he offers to her. Sometimes she feels guilty for not being able to return them.
No matter what he does to her, in which way he penetrates her body, her mind, she can never figure out how to copy his honesty.
She opens her eyes and sees him standing in front of her, that little wicked smile on his face, almost not there.
“Do you feel how fast your heart pounds?” he asks and lifts his hand to show it to her, her very own heart, beating so strong, so loud, so fast. Even faster when his hooks tear at her, free the girl from her useless limbs … once again. And she knows, when another ‘day’ in hell begins, they will be there as if nothing ever happened. As if she was never torn apart, only to feel the pain over and over again.
This time it is too much, it drives her truly mad. She starts to scream, starts to cry, even though she thought there were no tears left.
“Why won’t you let me die?” she sobs and tries to fight the chains that hold her torso firmly in place. “Please, kill me already! Please, please, please!”
She hears his cruel laughter and it makes her scream louder, trying to drown out this gruesome sound.
“Oh, my dear … if everyone gets to die, then no one will really value death. Why don’t you consider yourself lucky? There are not many people who can reach these highs in their existence. They are restrained in their pleasures, knowing so little, having so limited imagination of what is possible, what the human body can endure. You on the other hand have the privilege to experience each and every single facet of pain and pleasure, my love. And we have all eternity to do so. I wonder how many decades will go by until you finally see the gift I present you as what it is: a gift.”
Kirsty shakes her head as far as the chains allow her as she whispers a last “No” before the skin on her skull is ripped off, leaving her no lips to speak.