Twisted Victim

[Emmelin]

It was strange how life was. Every day passed as if it were nothing. Today was especially cruel. She could steal feel it- could still taste it. The bitter taste of disgust and shame. When had she become so weak- was she even weak- but she was a demon, wasn't - she? Her head hut thinking too much. What had happened wouldn't have been prevented and for once.. coming home dead wasn't an option. Her mind stopped and fluttered on the word. Home. She had one of those? When had been the last time she'd had an actual home to stay. Strange.. her hands twitched a bit and her body proceeded to limp. Wait- how long had she even been limping? With a second's movement, she fixed the boot she'd replaced way too hurriedly. The backing had been chafing her leg, which must have made her limp and not even realize it.

The memory was flesh and deeper than any wound and she tried desperately to hide it. Even as she walked into the house, she rushed past him and went straight to the bathroom. She needed to shower.. to scour the filthy moment away. It was her decision.. but.. it didn't.. feel the same... it only reminded her of that moment in time. Her life had changed that day.. She could still see THAT MAN"S face. No- not even a man. His for was that of a beast and just the glimpse caused her to shiver violently. The water felt good but no amount of time could clear away the clouds around her. So, not wanting to waste Zabulon's water, she stepped out, dried off and walked out. Without a single word, she flopped on the couch.

Silence. She hated it. It let her remember, to feel those moments she thought she'd never think of again. She had wanted to forget, but things like that never go away. She needed to be occupied or else she'd drive herself crazy with restlessness! She fished under the couch and pulled out a magazine. It wasn't as if she was reading it, but the pictures let her space out enough to not think. This was alternatively a much better process than reliving the damn determined memories that made her suffer. She deserved it. That's what they would say. This was revenge from beyond the grave, for the witch that killed heartlessly.

[Guest]

It was a quiet week day, and for the next couple of days, he was working at home examining the fresh reports and updates he had received from the various cities and outposts scattered across their country. Some of the artillery and weaponry in the outer sectors needed improvement, and others were barely manned at all. It would be concerning if they were to be attacked again for some reason or another. Moscow was, for the most part, rebuilt though it was hardly the gem that it had been before. It was surprising to him that St. Petersburg hadn't been hit at all with all the wars, his lips tightening as he sat in his big, comfy wing chair in the corner facing away from the windows and into the living room. His desk was laid out before him with papers and maps scattered all over, a couple of notebooks lying open to pages with more scribblings and some drawings. When one looked at it, they would probably wonder how any of it made any sense or even pieced together, but for him it all made perfect sense.

All that was really missing from the scene that would make him almost stereotypical were glasses perched carefully upon his nose. He had perfect eyesight, however, so no stereotypes for the apartment. Sveta was at school and it was around the middle of the day at this point, Zabulon standing as he stared at the map of Vladivastok to their Eastern border. He was pondering it when the door flew open and Valeria came in, looking up at the sound of the door closing. He started to straighten to talk to her except her speed and movements told him that she wasn't planting on stopping at all. It made him blink as he watched her breeze right to the bathroom, whose door closed rather sharply. It made him.... a little apprehensive. She wasn't just his roommate anymore, she was... his.... He glanced back down at the map of that distant city, his jaw tightening slightly as he forced himself to think of the whole word. Girlfriend. Yes, they were.. dating? Perhaps girlfriend was not the right word? In any case, the whole situation was something that was as foreign to him as 80 degree weather would be (or whatever that would equate to in Celsius). He had NO idea what wise to do, and so he only continued to proceed as himself.

Sighing, he placed his pen down and walked away from his desk for the moment to go and pour himself a glass of wine while she showered. Was there was something he was supposed to do last night that he didn't? She had left rather early that morning and hadn't come back until now, not leaving a single word to tell him where she had gone. Normally he would be fine with that, she was entitled to go anywhere she desired to whenever she wanted to, but... His hands paused as he was about to tilt the bottle to pour it into the glass, raising his eyes to stare distantly at the wall. This whole thing really had him messed up. He had felt concern when he had come out and helped Sveta get ready for school, yet Valeria was nowhere to be found. Sveta had to tell him that she had left when the sun was an hour or so from dawning on the horizon. The red liquid swirled into the glass as he filled it to halfway, recorking it before he lifted the glass in his gloved hands to take it back over to his desk.

Sitting back down, he went back to work, not even noticing she had come back until there was the creaking from the couch as she flopped into it. His head rose up and he blinked twice, looking over at her as she pulled the magazine out from beneath the couch. No. Something was wrong. "What is on your mind?" He asked in his deep tenor, placing the file he held down onto the top of his desk, his brows ever so slightly knitted together. It was odd for her to not say anything to him, much less ignore that he was even there.

[Emmelin]

The silly pictures had been working in a way. She doubted it was really them that caused her to space out so. In fact when she came to, her eyes weren't even looking at the papers before her. Instead, they were more towards the wall in front of her. As for what had brought her back, she wasn't sure, but she did catch Zabulon's voice not a second later. "What is on your mind?" For a second she felt chilled. What was on her mind? HER mind? Hardly a place many people would want to visit. Especially now, with the turmoil within, it was nothing but a shit-storm of confusion. In fact, her head ached dully from uncertainty, which was a rarity for her. The last time she'd felt this way, there was whiskey in her hand.

Her eyes looked toward Zabulon, not at him, but in his direction. "That's a brave place to try and venture, Zabulon. You sure you want to go there?" Her normal joking attitude was flavored with the darkness she felt. She tried to smile and failed. She knew a charade would not work for him; he could see right through any mask she chose to take up. Now that she thought about it, it was probably MORE suspicious to ACT like nothing was wrong: A phenomena for her, as normally she could get anyone to think whatever she wanted. He was different. At times, it felt like he knew her, the real her, more than most people even knew one of her 'roles'. There was no point in hiding she was bothered, but she wasn't exactly good at conveying real feelings. The last couple times ended with a kiss and the time before, she shot someone in his foot.

"It's... ugh.." Her nose scrunched while she grimaced. She felt the grossness flow over her skin, like little creatures trying to devour her. She tucked the magazine away and sat up on the couch. Wet hair pressed cold on her clothes and she was stumped on how to even speak for a moment. Should she even tell him? What would he think? "I had.. a very bad day, yesterday." She paused. "Last night namely, in fact." Why was she even talking about this? Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. Violet eyes found him and she motioned with her hand, beckoned him to come sit by her.

[Guest]

Come to think of it, when had he really seen her reading a magazine? When he did get to see her after work or in the mornings she was never doing anything with magazines. It was another oddity that made her current mood all the more concerning for she was not herself. She didn't even look AT him to answer his question, his lips tilting downward in the slightest hint of a frown on those impassive features of his. "That's a brave place to try and venture, Zabulon. You sure you want to go there?" His hands placed whatever they were holding down and smoothed them out, glancing down to them for the moment. Had she truly asked him that? She knew that he was willing to delve into whatever darkness she held within her. Or... had he actually said that? Perhaps he should actually say it. This "relationship" thing was just so very odd and he very much needed to learn the rules and regulations for it.

Still, she began to speak, "It's... ugh.." This.... was an extremely difficult topic. This wasn't like the raging at the hospital when they met or any of the times she had dodged his inquiries gracefully. He had permitted it then, for he guessed that she would tell him when she was ready to. At this point these signs she was giving off were so strange he had to ask, and it seemed she was willing to tell. "I had.. a very bad day, yesterday." The day previous? Truly? Whatever---"Last night namely, in fact." He felt an odd sort of clenching in his stomach, his lips tightening against the sensation. What... was that? Crimson met violet and he rose at her beckoning, taking two long strides to the couch to sit down beside her. "I noticed you were out late. What happened?" He swore if it was another bar fight brawl or scream in the streets he was going to have to tighten his already iron grip further. The police and military needed to kick it into gear to protect this city and if they would not, then they had no place in their ranks. The war was long over, the time for civil service was at hand.

[Emmelin]

"I noticed you were out late. What happened?"

Where to start? It wasn't a long story as much as it was just.. a mouthful. She took a heavy breath and fell against him. Her feminine form pressed against his chest, while her mind tried to sort out the best way to say this whole incident. Her lips pressed to his chin affectionately. Her lids lowered as did her pupils to look at her lap. "Last night I was placed in a situation." Her body tensed and she could still feel it, the way his hands had been on her, the way she didn't really want to.

"A man was sent. I'd been found out; my history unfurling before me and well.." She swallowed a massive lump in her throat. What the hell had happened that made her so passive and frightened? When had the terrifying murderess turn docile as a pet? "I was going to be killed and I thought I would kill the men first but- I just couldn't. In the end.. he ended up.." She paused and bit her lip. That wasn't how to word what had happened. Words were just meaningless noises that didn't click in her head. It.. didn't translate her non-existent thoughts, so she had to pause and restart. "I ended up in a position where I had to... sleep with him.. to stay alive." Her hand roamed to her neck, cold steel feeling there. "He had a gun to my chin.. I didn't know- what to do." Her eyes turned away from him and her whole body tensed from something she didn't understand.

It felt so sincere and yet confusing when from her lips fell an "I'm sorry." What was she sorry for? It was strange.. it didn't make sense.

[Guest]

Within moments of his sitting down, he found her resting against him, brows furrowing further as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. How he managed to not blush, he had no idea. It was probably because of the seriousness of this situation, but normally he would have felt a type of flustering at this sign of affection. He still wasn't used to these sorts of things from people who weren't Sveta. He could feel her lips against his chin and then he felt the slight heat in his cheeks as he cleared his throat, yet his expression remained as impassive as always. Such was the nature of Zabulon Goncharovich, ah well. "Last night I was placed in a situation." Her body tensed at that, his hand running up and down her arm comfortingly, a darkness descending in his eyes (not that it was directed at her). "A man was sent. I'd been found out; my history unfurling before me and well.." History? Who sent this man? What relation did he hold to her? Who was this man?!

Zabulon could feel the fires of anger growing ever so slightly within him, his jaw tightening as he gazed down at her with those crimson orbs of his. "I was going to be killed and I thought I would kill the men first but- I just couldn't. In the end.. he ended up.." No. No Zabulon already knew. What would a man demand of a woman at gunpoint, rather than simply killing her? It wasn't money, and it wasn't any favors. His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, holding her a little tighter against him, to him. "I ended up in a position where I had to... sleep with him.. to stay alive." The words stung him, hurt him, but it wasn't her that had done the hurting. It was his failing to keep this city safer, this COUNTRY safer. He sensed her moving, opening his eyes to observe how she touched her neck, his eyes narrowing. Someone was going to die. He was going to find this man, and he would kill him. He had the resources to make this possible and by god would he do it. Legal laws be damned. "He had a gun to my chin.. I didn't know- what to do."

She didn't look at him. She couldn't look at him. Zabulon relaxed in his entirety, gently pulling her up onto his lap with her head still on his shoulder and legs swung over his own as well as the edge of the couch. He held her close then, one hand wrapped around her waist with the other in her hair, gently running his fingers through those soft, wet tresses. "I'm sorry." "You have nothing to be sorry for. I am sorry I could not protect you, or be there to help you." He said quietly, his voice resonating low within his chest, taking a deep breath as he sighed. "...This isn't the first time... is it?" He dreaded to ask, but he had to because of what she had said earlier. That her "history" replayed itself in front of her. "You do not have to answer any question I ask if you do not want to Valeria. I am merely concerned." He added as he kissed her forehead oh so gently, his fingers continuing to run through her hair slowly.

[Emmelin]

"...This isn't the first time... is it?"

Her blood ran cold and Val gripped her throat some. The pain was almost suffocating to her. Disgust.. she felt disgust in the memory. The replay was different men. Why was it she got put in similar situations like that? Why did it hurt to breathe? Though the history was spoken only once to a man that had vanished, she felt just as much pain to remember it all.

"You do not have to answer any question I ask if you do not want to Valeria. I am merely concerned."

"No. You have a right to know. I won't give details, but..." she clutched her fists and took a deep breath. Hands felt heavenly in her hair. Normally Val wasn't too fond of being touched randomly, unexpectedly, but something about how his digits feathered through her hair was relaxing. "The act in question has happened twice before, but under separate circumstances." She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "I am no saint, Zabulon and in fact I am far away from it." Her eyes closed and she laughed lightly. "I suppose in the end two of the three times was my own fault for being a cruel witch." Her head moved to his lap, carelessly. "But in the beginning, I was just as innocent as anyone else."

Her back stiffened as if she stretched while her words paused. "Remember the hospital with my freak out?" She rolled some and stared up at him with her violet eyes. For once eyes that were normally without a care were rigid with slight pain. "The man whom I referred to, was my own father."

It made her laugh to say it. Not a pure or sick laugh, but a dry one that held only weight in it. Even that didn't last long at all. "Zabulon, I've always wanted a family, but.. I have to wonder if I would be capable of it." Her eyes closed again and she held her breath. "I was so jealous back then. All I could see was such purity all around me and it- just wasn't fair. I acted as a child and at times, still probably still do." The answer was a bit vague, but it was enough. The rest could be revealed on another day when she wasn't suffering from the night before. She sat up in his lap, and stared him in the eyes.

"So there you have it." For emphasis, she held up her hand with three fingers up. "You are only one of three to know the truth."

[Jay Furor]

~BUMP~

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