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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1621595
Its absolute rubbish, I just need critique please
And there He stood. Tall and erect, towering it seemed over the highest of buildings. He was a man, no more than a man. A god. When He spoke it was as if with every word He roared, the depths of Hell would roar back in agreement. Aggression and power were etched onto his pale white physique. Emerald veins ran along his skin like an intricately drawn map. Where it led I did not know, but I prayed I would find out. His scarlet crimson eyes blazed so violently that when He looked at me I found myself involuntarily dropping my head to his feet in submission. He always noticed this. I think He liked it.



Once He walked towards me and I foolishly attempted to run. He knew my thoughts before I did and caught me before I had even moved. He held me in place, in front of Them All. I began to cry softly, I am still unsure as to why. As I cried his arms, arms as powerful as the pacific is wide crept up like snakes to my waist. He held on tight, not enough to hurt but enough so that I knew who was in control. He told me to look up at him. But fear had completely taken me and it was a struggle just to breathe. Each breathe felt like jagged pieces of glass being maneuvered through me. There was silence, only my short intakes of breathe and soft crying could be heard. The silence was deafening. I knew He’d wait until I looked at him, if it took 3 days then it took three days. But I couldn’t. I would rather suffer some unimaginable torment than look up at him. I heard him smile, He’d heard my thoughts. He shook me gently and pulled me closer. I knew what He was doing. If I wouldn’t willingly look up at him then He was more than willing to force me to do so. As soon as my body touched his temple, an unspeakable pain ripped through me. My body began to convulse and I screamed out in pain. I begged him to let go of me. He did not. My screams increased both in length and volume and I began to revoke all I’d said about the ‘unimaginable torment’. Knocking at death’s door I whispered ‘I give in’. I knew He would hear me.



Immediately the pain began to subside. Though my screams quietened I knew the pain was there waiting for me to make one wrong move. A hand moved to my face, his reminder that He had not forgotten my words. I closed my eyes and whispered ‘Please’ a thousand times. He whispered back ‘No.’ The pain began to rise and I screamed out, then it stopped. ‘Do as I say’, as He spoke I could have sworn Hell growled accordingly. My eyes opened. I would do it, I would look at him, I had no choice in this matter. He took my tremulous arms and placed them on his waist and we stood, torsos touching, head to head, human to god. I felt his limbs against my own and yearned to feel more. My chin slowly ascended as my head fell back. I saw his mouth, a beautiful mass of pink flesh, then his cadaver white nose and finally our eyes met. His eyes, a colour I can only describe as carmine, blood red penetrated through me and my body gave in. I knew He was looking straight to me. He did not look at me, but stared at my past, my present and I hoped our future. I hoped I pleased Him. With his eyes locked on mine, He forced his mouth onto my own inferior lips. I could not understand why and my arms thrashed weakly in defence, my body had been left to his mercy. When He was done with me, He released me and I fell to the floor on my back, howling hysterically like an injured animal. He walked to where I lay screaming and stood over me. I was instantly silenced. In one graceful and powerful movement He picked me up into his arms and cradled me, in that moment He was my protector. He whispered



‘You are mine now.’



And I hoped it would stay that way.



I woke up, my body sore, my mind unable to recall how or when I had indeed fallen asleep. I soon after discovered that I lay on a bed covered in dark sheets. I knew not who’s it was only that it was not my own. I sat up, attempted to rather and in a black chair parallel to me sat Him -sans shirt. He smiled a smile that could only belong to man. Bewildered, I looked down and found that I was wearing His shirt and just his shirt. I became nervous at my exposed flesh and pulled a sheet towards my body when my hand was stopped. He didn’t want me to cover myself. He wanted to look at me. From the look that possessed his eyes he did not intend to stop at ‘just looking’. He crept from his chair to the bed and sat on his knees in front of me. His eyes scanned my body and fear seared through me, the trepidation of our previous meeting was still present but it was fused with something new. A yearning for him. He pulled me up so that I adopted the same position as him. I stared, hard. I knew then why he kept himself so hidden. The pleasure I derived from staring at him was more than the pleasures my mediocre life had amassed. But what pleasure did he gain from looking at me. My brown gaunt body could not provide the delights that his did. My grotesque features did not merit adulation, no I was well aware of what looked back at me every time I foolishly dared to look at my reflection, I knew what The Others whispered about my appearance how could he then look at me and enjoy looking at me. I fell back onto the bed, my eyes dead on his. He was still looking at me, but how? How? His stare broke. He had heard me. Like an animal he crawled down on his limbs until his body was perpendicular to mine and his face was but two inches to my face. His hands on their way down had picked up my legs and he lay in between them and my legs folded besides his torso. Like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together.



Disbelief had overcome my fear and I found myself speaking. I was so afraid that I forgot to stutter and stammer and my words came out as hushed whispers but clear nonetheless.



‘Do you want me?’



I said very slowly, enunciating every syllable of every word.



‘Yes’



He replied, enunciating every letter as I had done. He was mocking me.

© Copyright 2009 Liv Wilde (livwilde at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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