A Fallen General.
His name is Cole Lorily. He’s arrogant and an asshole, but I think he’s good. Deep down.
The only problem with that is that by doing so, I invited the devil into my life. Some people call him the God of Nightmares, but his real name is Trick Michael. High Kingof the Fallen.
He put a magical collar around my neck, it looks like a necklace but let’s just call it as it is, you know? Shackles. I don’t know why he’s chosen me, I’m nothing, but it hasn’t detoured him. Apparently, he’s been following me for a year, but now he’s making contact. I don’t know what’s changed, but I hate it.
I need to hate it. Rational people would hate it.
He…he warned me not to have relations with anyone, and I was stupid, a thrill seeker, so I tested him. I tested the High King of the Fallen, how fucking stupid was that? Now that I’m writing it to you, I just want to go back in time and punch myself in the face.
My mom’s already done enough of that though.
I rolled my eyes and scratched the last sentence out.
I pushed Cole to have sex with me. Not really so much pushed him as allowed him to push me, I guess. I don’t know. I didn’t…Cole is very attractive. Muscles and an amazing smile, and he makes me smile. He tries. I think we have a real chance at being friends.
Could you imagine? Gods, I haven’t had a real friend since…well, since you. It’d be nice, you know? To have a friend.
I tapped my pencil, rereading the words, remembering how I had felt being with Cole. What my body had wanted, what the High King had done to me.
Tears welled in my eyes.
Is it rape if you like it?
Not just have an orgasm, I know that’s just a response. I know you can’t always control it, but I mean really like it?
Is it…is it rape if you want more of it?
Can I call it that if it’s what my body responds too?
I’m so fucked up, aren’t I? Gods, this is why I needed Cole. Maybe…maybe if I can just…maybe if I tell him, we can go somewhere else and fuck. He can reform me. He can make my body realize how fucked up I am and maybe I can fix myself.
Gods, I wish you were here. But I suppose if you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, huh?
Maybe you’d be able to fix me. You were always so soft. If you had stayed, maybe I wouldn’t have become such a…such a…freak.
I shut the journal with a finality and shoved away from the table. I needed to get home. Before dinner this time.
~~~
Trick
I hadn’t been to see my Angel in seven days. It felt as if I had been without water for years.
But I had a job to do.
I used the tool to pull off another toenail, the man screaming through his lips as his nailbed gave, the skin tearing.
It’s all he could do after I stitched his lipsshut. I had considered stitching his eyes shut too but opted for removing them altogether. If he couldn’t see, his eyes couldn’t leer on any new victims.
Although he was never walking out of here again, the point of it was to give him just a little hope. If they still had hope, they still had something to fight for.
But hanging upside down from a chain on the ceiling, the tendons in his wings severed, one foot gone and the other being slowly torn apart, I wondered if he had realized yet that he was never going to leave.
Cole stood across the room, unable to look, but ever the faithful soldier. It was one thing I could never help him with: looking people in the eyes. He did it from time to time without wavering, but more often than not, unless he was commanding his warriors, he couldn’t hold a stare.
I blamed his father for it, and had he still been alive, I may have allowed Cole to aid in the torture, but that putrid animal had been dead for over 1,000 years. It was the one session that Cole had approved of without hesitation.