WC: 643.
She lay there, staring at him. In some sadomasochistic chamber of her mind, she could feel her pulse racing. There was something strangely appealing about this situation – perhaps it was the possibility of death, or even just the rush she got from staring the sick bastard in the eyes. Daisuke’s silence, though almost certainly filled with thoughts of her demise, did not seem to phase the ebony canine. It was only when his maw parted and the words spat across from his tongue to her ears that she really began to take into account how twisted this male actually was. There was something seriously wrong with his mind, especially when it came to the fact he seemed convinced of Snake’s life – it was like he had been stalking him… in fact, Lucia was positive that that was the case, and because of that, she knew she had to tread on eggshells. There was thin ice on this river tonight.
It was interesting how many insults he seemed to fit into one sentence. Fucking this, shitting that! It seemed to go on and on – Lucia’s eyes wrinkled in the corners, small creases signifying her amusement for all to see. As such, it was difficult to hold off the smirk. Stealing her ebony lips like drunken spider scrawling across parchment, pale canines gleamed from their sheath, as though encouraging his ranting, and begging him to continue. It wasn’t until Lucia began to feel slightly odd that the expressions in her face shifted.
All of a sudden her blood seemed to freeze. The temperature dropped, everything went cloudy. It was like being trapped in a goldfish bowl, watching the world react and powerless to stop it. Her eyes grew heavy, only briefly though – her breathing sharpened, lungs tightened. It resembled one of her usual panic attacks, anxiety riding through her system like the headless horseman – searching, wanting, hunting… Yet, as quickly as it came, it seemed to disappear. The fog lifted, and just as it did, Lucia’s malachite gaze fell upon the swipe of Daisuke’s hand. The shriek of claw on flesh ripped into the air, the scent of copper wafting up her nostrils. Momentarily stunned, it was as though Lucia had no idea where she was, or in fact, what she was doing here. Confusion swept her gaze, but as soon as the blood trickled atop her pinkish tongue, that confusion seemed to fade. Her face twisted, it seemed to move on its own. There was something dangerous in her eyes, something psychotic. She smiled casually, as though nothing had happened and she wasn’t creeping ever closer to having her throat ripped out. Was it even her?
“Well, well, well,” she cooed, her voice teasing the situation, trying to aggravate him one more time. “The little poodle has balls… Who knew!” She winked, her smile turning into laughter. Not the shrill, jovial laughter she once possessed when she had enjoyed the taste of alcohol earlier in the day, but the cold and calculated laughter of a maniac. Daisuke had hit a nerve so to speak – the black outs, if that’s what they ever were, revealed their true form. Another personality – an alter ego. Whatever it was, it was a dark streak in the fragile female’s mind, and there was almost no question about it, Lucia would have no idea it even existed.
“You know,” her mouth parted again, gaze boring into Daisuke’s skull – imagining tearing away his flesh, peeling away the muscles. She wanted his skeleton; she wanted his soul. And, if that wasn’t possible… well, she’d just have to skull-fuck him mentally instead. “Hit me like that again,” she licked her lips, smearing the blood across herself, “…And I may get too turned on.” Her eyes flashed coldly, and another wink was sent to the straddling male. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”