Gender: Female
Age: 31
Sign:
Pisces
Country: United Kingdom
Signup Date: November 09, 2017
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02/24/2021 04:41 PM
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Blackhole Part 3
There's an ache in my body that's smacking my ribs with the force of a battle-axe and I swallow the pained groan that threatens to escape me. I want to take her in my arms, and remember the way her skin felt under my hands and my lips and how it sounded when she moaned my name, but another look at her cold, beautiful face dispels any hope. She is not my Portia anymore and I realise in a twisted way that he hadn't lied, she did die. She died the second the demon DNA fully merged with her own. Fists clenched so tight I can feel my nails breaking the skin and the pain reminds me to not drop my guard, not even for a second.
"Why are you here? Now? After so long?" I don't think she'll give me a proper answer, but I need to keep her distracted, watch for signs of attack although thinking about hurting her, despite who she is now, makes the battle-axe of pain inside me whack harder. I know if it does come down to a fight, she won't stop until I'm dead and therefore I'd have to kill her instead although everything inside me is screaming 'no' at me. She smiles, a slow, sexy smile that looks familiar but there's a sinister twist to it that makes me shudder. "I missed you of course." she notices my disbelieving expression and just smiles wider. "You don't have to believe me, but I do."
She steps towards me and my whole body tenses but her body language doesn't seem aggressive and so she steps towards me, every step slow, measured, with the grace of an angel, which is cruelly ironic. She stops when she's right in front of my and leans forward until her lips are centimetres from my ear and another shudder, half pain, half pleasure runs through me. "I'll be seeing you soon." she whispers dangerously, and I know what she's telling me. I'll be killing you soon.
F***.
1 month later.
Nerves so tightly wound that sometimes my whole body vibrates with tension. Everyday this past month I've awoken and thought; is today the day she tries to kill me? I know she's watching me, every so often she'll let me see her so that she knows, that I know that she's there and she's biding her time, waiting for a moment that makes sense to her, but not to me. I barely sleep, and I know I should try because I need to be at my best, but memories I've tried to forget resurface and pull me down into their depths to suffocate me until I wake, gasping and sweating. Last night I couldn't stand another restless sleep, so I did what I swore I would never do, I took sleeping pills, and not the weak kind either. A part of me resisted because, what if she attacked then? However, intuition told me she wanted a proper fight, to enjoy it, so I took a risk and it paid off. I felt refreshed for the first time in weeks and my mind was clearer and I knew what I had to do.
I had to stop playing her game and come up with one of my own.
I spent most of the day preparing everything meticulously, selecting clothes that were fighting fit, all sleek black leather, except for my top, which was made of fabric, but clung to my body tightly. Nothing hung off them so that she couldn't grab and pull at me unexpectedly. My weapons too, were carefully selected. No guns, not my favourite crossbow, just two knives that were fitted to a holster that was on a belt that tied around my hips, and another small one that was attached to my ankle. I dress slowly, making sure everything was on right and secured tightly.
I was ready.
1 hour later.
Her eyes bore holes into my back as she follows me. I'm sure she's annoyed at me, wondering what the hell I was doing, where I was going, but I pretend I don't know she's there. I duck into an alley between two warehouses because I know this area well and there is plenty of room to fight, without being heard, or seen, which is good because I know she'll use her abilities at some point and I don't need some random person walking by and getting in the middle of us and seeing anything they really shouldn't. I turn on my heels and wait, knowing she's not fair behind.
She doesn't keep me waiting long. She's already got a weapon out in her hands, some sort of blade that seems lit up from within and I don't know if I'm hallucinating or that is something she'd doing to it, but I wonder if she's retained some of her angelic abilities because it reminds of what I can do. She's smiling, but there's no warmth in it, it's as cold as her eyes, which were now almost fully black, I could barely see any white from where I was stood. I concentrate on my right hand, knowing without looking that it was glowing, but instead of stopping it, like I usually would, I keep my focus until a blade forms out of the light and manifests in my hand. It glows just like hers does, but brighter because mine was made from pure light, unlike hers. To anyone else, it would look like some weird crystal, but to be honest I had no idea once it formed fully what it was made of. All I knew is that it could cut through steel like it was butter.
"So, tonight's the night huh babe?" she teases me.
"I guess so, babe." I respond mocking her.
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02/24/2021 04:35 PM
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Blackhole Part 2.
Grief has made a permanent home in my bones and it's never leaving. It's been there long enough that it's made marks so deep that they will never heal. I've learnt over the years to cover them with sarcasm, anger and revenge so wholly that I can pretend that they don't exist, but every now and then, when I'm alone, they like to remind me they're still there. I've learnt to notice the signs and now I just let it come in tidal waves, sitting in a corner of a room in the dark until it's over. I've stopped asking myself when there will be a day when it will be over and I won't be reduced to a quivering mess because I know the answer, it will never be over. I'm doomed to grieve like this until the day I die because I deserve to suffer.
I wonder what my parents would think of me now.
Tonight is just like the other nights the panic attack comes and for once I am home when it happens. I retreat to the corner of the room closest to my bed, back against the wall as my breathing quickens, my heart rate bumps up and my hands begin to shake. The grief grows hands and tries to claw it's way up my throat but I cover my mouth with my own shaking hands to stop it escaping the confines of my hollowed out body. It takes two hours for it to fully run its course and I am left with aching muscles and clammy sweat on my skin. I shakily get to my feet and rid myself of the clothes I was in and shower, the warm water relaxes those tense muscles, but it does not wash away the grief, or the memories it's attached to.
After my shower I dress in a loose fitting nightdress, wrap a blanket around my shoulders and step out onto my balcony that leads off my bedroom and stare out into the night, but not really seeing anything. I wondered why I was having a panic attack now, when I hadn't had one in months and it took me a while to realise a possible reason. The anniversary of Portia's death was coming up. Although there wasn't an exact date, mainly because time didn't mean much in The Lab and instead we measured everything by the season which we could determine by looking out of our tiny windows and Portia died some time early winter and I escaped with the others sometime at the end of the Summer after that Winter.
A shiver that makes the hairs on my neck stand up runs down my spine, but it's not from being cold and I freeze in place, I recognise the feeling instantly but its been over a year since I felt anything like it. It was a warning that one of the ones with demon DNA in them was close. I curse myself because my nearest weapon was under my pillow a few feet away. There's footsteps behind me, but not where I expect, they are on the roof and stop and I guess they've got to edge and can see me. "Well, well, well." the voice, a woman's, is full of hatred and vaguely familiar and there's a thud as she lands behind me, I can feel the vibrations through my bare feet.
"Aren't you going to look at me and say 'hi'? I thought after all this time you'd be happy to see me." Dread hits like a lead weight in my stomach, but it's impossible, she died. "Turn around Eleanor." cold, demanding, far from the soft girl I remember, whose hands and mouth could make my body tremble. Turning slowly I finally look upon the intruder and my worst fears are confirmed. She almost looks the same, hair as black as midnight, a body to die for, but that's where the familiarity ends. The way she's standing is wrong, all aggression and as tightly wound as a spring about ready to break. The biggest change is her eyes, they are now as black as her hair as she stares at me with disgust and my fingers twitch as I want to wipe that expression away and replace it with the Portia I remember.
"Portia? But... but you're dead. They told me you died." I don't how but my voice is calm, though I feel anything but.
A disgusting smirk spreads across her lips, "They lied darling."
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