Satan Reincarnate

Mascara

***

I sat up, ears ringing and mouth dry. My joints cracked, as did my neck as I moved around slowly. My forearms were strangely numb, sort of a pins and needles feeling. The familiar smokey scent of bill engulfed me, the more intense it got the longer I stayed wrapped in his jacket. I sat up, feeling's a strange surge- a different kind of sensation running through my body. I craved something, like a food or drink. But I couldn't immediately put my finger on what it could possibly be. Thinking of food actually made me sick, but my body was desperate for something that I didn't know what was. I touched my face with my stinging hands, my textured skin felt warm and flushed. I slightly grimaced as I felt the itches running up my spine, flowing down my limbs. I shifted uncomfortably, deciding to stand up. I looked down to realize a large black shirt had been draped over me in my slumber. I had no idea what Bill had put in that cigarette, but it was definitely stronger than cannabis. I felt drowsy and my heart felt slow as it forced itself to pump. As I inhaled, i felt sharp pains from my diaphragm, to my lungs. I looked around the plain room, confused as I held my tight chest, forcing oxygen through my crowded airways.

"Good morning, sunshine." A slight mutter came from behind me.

I stepped around, not instantly recognizing the voice, nor the face. I squinted my eyes, and was a bit surprised.

"I didn't recognize you." I stated, wearily looking him up and down as he sat gently in the recliner across from me.

"Not my usual attire, no?" He asked, a smile curling softly on his pierced lips.

I shook my head, looking at him. His skin was completely clear, milk white at that. Bill usually wore intense, thick clothing with lots of fur, chains, and leather. From what I understand, he always had that and dark makeup smeared over his already dark, deceptive eyes. But right now, he looked so innocent. Maybe you could even say beautiful. His lips were a warm pink, and his cheeks flushed a similar color. His eyes looked less menacing without all the black, and he looked far kinder than he was. He was wearing plain black sweats and a gray zip up, just a normal outfit. Nothing extraordinary, unlike how he has been every time I had seen him. His thin dreads were pulled back behind his face with an elastic band, exposing the beauty of his face to me completely.

"Come closer." He purred, holding out a lanky hand.

His sleeves were rolled up, revealing a tattoo on his forearm I hadn't ever seen before. It was thick cursive lines swirling around eachother, looking as if they were dancing with one another under his pale skin.
I glanced back up at him, attempting to take a step. I stumbled, and Instead of walking over I just tripped right into his arms.

"Strong.. isn't it?" He whispered down Into my sensitive ear as he caught me, holding me tight against his chest.

"What'd you do?" I struggled to choke out, my eyes still heavy.

"You've seriously never had heroin?" He muttered, a laugh in his throat.

My heart felt like it practically stopped.

"What?" I gasped, my mind racing as my heart struggled to.

"I'm taking that as a no." He remarked smugly, putting a hand on the back of my head to rub it.

I blinked, struggling to understand what he had said. I forced my head down, and there were large yellow bruises on my forearms surrounded small red holes.

"You... injected me.. with heroin?" I breathed, my eyes gaping as I realized what I was craving.

He rubbed my head, and put his nose against my scalp. Snapping back to reality, I didn't know why I was in his arms. Us hover myself off of him, and stumbled to the ground as I began to tear up.

"What the hell?" He groaned, grabbing my ankle. "Stay with me."

I kicked him, freeing my foot.

"No!" I shrieked. I didn't think I was being dramatic. I felt violated and afraid, wondering if he had done anything else to me as I slept.

My hand reached for my chest in a panic as realization began to set it.

"Where ls my bra?" I shuddered.

I looked around the room, frantically trying to stand up. As I made it to my knees, he leaned forward and used the tip of his converse shoe to aggressively push me back down to the ground. I landed on my back with a loud grunt, and tried to catch myself as he stood up.

"You didn't answer my question." I mustered, my breath fast as it came out of my mouth.

Bill stood to his feet, and bent over. He placed two large hands on my shoulders, and pressed into the wound on my arm from the wall. I winced, inhaling sharply as I grabbed his arm to pry him off. He held me tighter, and pushed me back down onto my back with a smile.

"I don't think I need to answer anything." He whispered down to me, his breath invading my senses.

I closed my mouth, refusing to let myself think as subtle panic screwed me over. I choked back tears as he held me on my back.

"Be good for me.. please?" He falsely pleaded. His eyes were large and dilated, matching the large smile on his face.

I glanced up at his eyebrow, noticing the chunk I tore off a couple nights ago. I smiled internally, wishing to relive the moment.

"And why would I do that?" I snapped, my teeth gritted.

"You wouldn't want anymore of... you know." He smiled. "Would you? Or, I could just give you so much until you couldn't physically function without it, until you beg me for more. Until being without it hurts. I suppose you can misbehave if you want that." He let out a devilish grin.

I swallowed, a small tear spilling over the edge. I closed my mouth, losing to him was humiliating to me. He used a thumb to wipe my tear.

"Don't cry, your mascara is running." He whispered, leaning into my face as he held my mouth closed with one hand, and restricted my hands with the others.

***