Princess

Part 9: Snapping the Heartstrings

"Princess," the monster crooned, his taunting and cruelly 'kind' tone sending alarm bells off. He stood in the doorway, his intimidatingly broad frame casting an ominous shadow across her room. Chills ran down her spine whenever the monster would say her name. She whipped around, yanking her gaze from the stars to his ugly face, a forced smile painting itself on her lips. 

"What?" she said, keeping her voice as sweet as she could. Her eyes narrowed as she saw he held his hands behind his back, the darkest parts of her mind hoping he concealed the blade that would end her. She shut that part up quickly, telling herself that there was still some hope left. 

"I just wanted to check on you," he said, "Can't a man check on his fiancee every once in a while?"

Her title of 'fiancee' made her skin crawl and the hairs on the back of her neck stand bolt upright. She wanted to rip out his tongue for calling her that. Who would want to be wedded to such a beast? Not her, that's for sure. But she had to be, against her will. He saw the expression of disgust cross her face and snarled, lunging towards her and grabbing her shirt collar, lifting her close to his cruel face. His breath smelt of alcohol and she noticed a half-smashed glass bottle in his hand. Was that what he was going to kill her with? Her breath hitched in her throat as he hissed his insults at her.

"You uptight little bitch," he sneered, his terrifyingly sharp teeth curling into an expression that filled her with dread, "Think you're too good for someone like me, don't ya? Don't ya, you uppity whore!" he roared, slamming her back into the window, spidery cracks skittering across the glass as she collided with it. Their breathings were raspy and heavy. His crimson eyes were narrowed into a malicious stare. Her heart began pounding, her head a cluttered mess of 'what ifs'. She tried to deny the fact that she knew what he was going to do to her, but no avail. She knew. His hands began roughly moving to her untouched areas, concealed to all. She didn't try and alert anybody else by screaming, nobody would care. Nobody was allowed to care. Nobody wanted to care. 

She let it happen. It would have always have happened at some point. She turned, feeling like an object. She was an object. A broken, unloved, uncared for, failure of an object. The darkness beckoned her. Oh, how she wanted to answer its calls. But she couldn't. Not with people in need and a kingdom in ruins. Maybe, just maybe, she could fix everything. No, she told herself, she couldn't. What part did trash play in welding gold? None. She was useless. Maybe she should go. It would be for the best. She didn't benefit anybody except the monster, who only wanted her for his sick fantasies about traumatizing her with all the gore he probably got off to. 

A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she tossed and turned, still feeling disgusting and dirty. She wanted all traces of him gone. Her skin had been scrubbed raw but still, the lingering feeling of filth was there. She knew it was all in her head but it felt so real. It was the tingly sensation that set in with pins and needles. It was driving her more insane than being stuck in this place alone was driving her. 

"Nutjob," she murmured to herself, accompanying her statement with a noise as close to a laugh as she could muster. It resembled the choking breaths of the innocent Toad that Bowser had strangled in front of her just the day before. A new wave of despair washed over her, mourning the lives that had been lost because of her fucking existence. 

"They don't need you, just kill yourself. You don't care, you don't care, you don't fucking care!" she said, her voice getting louder and shakier as she swung her legs out of the bed, her feet mindlessly propelling herself towards the window. Her hands shook uncontrollably as they traced the cracks. Her breath hitched in her chest, beginning to chant the same sentence over and over again, drilling into her brain and numbing every sense.

"You don't care!" she screamed, slamming her elbow into the glass, pain spiking through her arm but the drilling of the mindless chanting drowning it out. She repeated the action, the chanting getting louder as shards of glass nestled in the mangled and bloodied flesh of her arm. Tears started dripping down her cheeks, mixing with the blood and staining the carpet. She felt several hands land on her arms, trying to resist the demons that were gnawing on her soul and leaving her as the nutter who wants it all to be over. She wrenched her arms out of their grasp, they didn't matter. This was her moment. This was about her. Not them. 

The hole in the glass appeared, the edges as ragged as her breathing. Shards littered the floor, nestled in her wounds, but she didn't care. She slammed her fist into the window. A few battered knuckles but the glass didn't shatter. Her hands, slick with sweat, grabbed the nearest Koopa to her and before she knew it, an ear-splitting scream escaped the poor thing's mouth as it fell 50ft to the grass outside. She felt something, she didn't know what it was amid the other swirling masses of emotions in her head but she knew it would bite her later when she had gotten her shit together.

The monster watched the scene from the doorway, his narrowed eyes wandering over his prize's bloodied clothes. She'd finally snapped. A slow, sick, twisted smile spread over his face. He wasn't the only psycho now. 

He walked forward, roughly grabbing her shoulder and spinning her fragile body around to face him. She froze, fear kicking in, snapping out of her trance. Her beautiful blue eyes widened with fear, just how he'd wanted them to. Her soft lips trembled as she tried to form a sentence. A low, dark, sinister, chuckle escaped his lips. He lived on other people's terror. Like a leech from hell. The overlord. She stumbled back, trying to escape him. Of course, she couldn't. Nobody could escape him. He owned everyone now. 

His hand moved to her throat, tightening his grip until she lost consciousness and became his pet for the rest of the night. Oh, how her skin was so soft. Oh, how it was all his.

She was his, he could do whatever he wanted with her.

She would never find out, what was there to be concerned about?

He made the rules.