the best of us can find happiness in misery (utterbasketcase) wrote,
the best of us can find happiness in misery
utterbasketcase

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(A short story that came to me in a dream) (Any beta-volunteers?)

I am.

I was created by my husband, Dionysus, to be his faithful companion.
This is all I know, and all I need to know.

It is all about to change.

He is dying now, betrayed, murdered by his best friend.

I attempt to bring him some comfort, trying to warm up his cooling flesh, but it gets colder nonetheless.

He opens his eyes for what I know is the last time, and whispers something.

Incantate?

Suddenly I am thrown back, hit by an invisible force.

As I lie on the floor, I gradually become aware of this knowledge surging through my brain, strength flowing into my body.

I am sure now that my love is dead, for I am liberated.
And I know exactly what to do.

One word. "Marcus". The betrayer stands before me, fear in his eyes. He does not know how he got back here, but he knows I'm in charge now.

"Please," he begs, but I am not moved by this pathetic creature's plea.

I reach to my right and snatch a small bottle filled with a dark liquid out of the air.

"Do you know what this is?" I ask him.

"Please, mistress," he says, almost whispering now. He does not know what game I am playing, but it scares him.

I lean forward and hold the bottle right in front of his face. The liquid inside seems to move around on its own, mesmerising him.

"This," I explain patiently, "is the most powerful poison known to man. Touch it, and you die."

I can smell the fear on him now, which exhilarates me.

Slowly, slowly, I unscrew the top.

"Are you ready to die, Marcus?" I ask, my voice light, playful almost.

He just makes a whimpering noise and starts crying.

"Where shall I put the drop?" I continue, edging closer to his face.

He screams, finally tries to run, but I hold him firmly in place with my thoughts.

"I think the eye would be a good place," I conclude, and let a drop of poison fall.

He blinks a few times, confused, but there is no pain, and he looks up to me with wonderment on his face.

I smile benevolently at him, amused.

The joy on his face melts away as his eye slowly comes to a boil, the flesh around it already heating up as well.

He screams, to no avail.

Touch it, and you die.

"I never said it was going to be fast," I tell him, as I close the door on his screams and find myself standing in the cool night air.

This is the first time I've left the house.

I am not scared.
I am not alone.
I am free.
Tags: writing
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