Fear. Such a powerful word taken far too liberally. Such a silly little word to be so powerful. F-E-A-R; a laughable four letter word with no impressive syllables or word arrangement. A ridiculous word that cannot possibly contain its intended meaning within it mere four walls. No, just as it is rarely experienced in its truest form, so can it never be truly expressed in man's limited linguistics -
For how often has one truly felt overwhelming and all powerful FEAR?
It wasn't fear that ate her alive now, not fear which picked away at a tattered soul - it was anticipation. Anticipation - now there's an impressive word!
So it had to be accepted as thus - it couldn't be fear, for this moment had been predicted, she just ignored the simple truth. She knew, and for quite sometime, didn't care. So here she was, the bitter nails of anticipation scratching her raw nerves, because the inevitable had arrived -
There was nowhere she could have ran. There was nowhere she could have hid.
But she should have known better.
The girl crouched in her corner, trying to pull the velvet darkness around her as a child hides under their blanket. Stupid, stupid, stupid...
Her tormenter, her silent antagonist only smiled his damned smile, marble shining in synch with the absolute darkness.
She held a whimper in her throat. She wouldn't cry, it was a sign of weakness, and weakness was beneath her.
A gloved hand reached out and cupped her soft cheek, turing her head in his direction. Reluctantly, she allowed herself to gaze in the broken amethyst shards he called his eyes - into the swirling chaos that dwelt within. The girl's throat was immovable, her voice dead - it was all she could do to receive him in silence. It was all she wished to do.
"It's your own fault you know," he said softly, his voice desecrating the stillness with as much terrible clarity of silver bells.
She knew that. She knew, it was an inevitability. If only... if only she had never....
"I'll be quick about it," he promised.
That terrible anticipation again. Wailing softly, she squirmed in his grasp, but he paid her no heed. His unbearably perfect, nimble hands reached for her and she stiffened - anticipation nearly overshadowing the painful torture awaiting her...
SHHHRRRRPPP
"YEOWCH!!"
Xelloss sighed and removed his earplugs, grinning cheerfully. "Honestly Juuoh-sama, I know you want to quit, but whatever possessed you to use the entire box of nicotine patches?"
Zelas turned red and grumbled intelligibly.
And lo, Xelloss happily continued his task of removing the damnable patches from his master's per - ah, demon. And let this be a lesson - smoking is bad, boys and girls.
What? You thought this was some dark, angst-filled ficcy about Xelloss and Lina? Maybe Xel and Fillia? Sylphiel? Amelia even? Well...
YOU WERE WRONG!! GWAHAHAHAHAHAA!! Now go! Go sit in the corner! Lay your head down! Honestly, didn't anyone ever tell you never to judge before you know the whole story? Yeesh.
THE END.
"NO!! Don't pull on that one - KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
"Zelas-sama! You use a self tanner?! O.o" holds up piece of tan
"That's my skin, you dolt!"