Faith

KaieAithne: Yesh, a cartmanism. and don't worry! I'll make it work, trust me! And yay for a story well done! I haven't forgotten about the other one, but two nights a week I don't get home from school until 11 pm -_-

DarkCrusnikMagician: I thought it sounded rather nice too, even though it's rather falacious for her to wear white.... wah wah waahhhhh.....-_-

Darkephoenix: you're such an inspiration. Hope you like the ideas I used in this chap, since you gave them to me! Thanks for the praise, and btw, you know quite a lot, maybe I should start consulting you before I write my torture/domination scenes. You make me feel unedumacated bought it XD

Caranril: Yeah, it's easy to forget one is naked sometimes. *a la the orbitz chick* Fabulous! No I'm not, but thank you. I'm really like... flabbergasted that I could evoke as much emotion as I attempted to >_< Thank you so much, I totally like...felt a swell of pride. Well, it coulda been gas, but I'm pretty sure it was pride! I haven't seen the fucking OVAs yet! are they good? :( Yeah, Alucard's like the coolest vamp in all of history. That's why he's going to be in m sequel. SHHH! don't tell anyone ;)

Lulu: Yesh, the stick worked! Let's not use it too much though, I work hard to stay pale by never going into the sun (it's burns us!) and I'd rather not be bruised :P And no, fucking all the fangirls think he's hot, no matter how demented he is. I think he's hot.... in a totally mad sort of way. Don't worry, they will be together again. It may not be exactly as you want it to be, but it'll be there! And I dunno... there's gotta be tragedy somewhere along the way. The sexagon can't last forever, it'd be like a never ending game of twister. I promise it'll work out! And not unoriginal like copied, I just think my situations are cliche.

winterfrau: It is disturbing, but I couldn't think of another way for this to work out. The ending it gonna send you all for a loop. I hope. and DING DING! you get the recognizing white symbolism award! If you look at the colors she chose, they are the colors of Cain's uniform, while Abel's are white and blue. *claps* good on ya! And yes, Cain was mightily cruel to Isaac for inviting him in and then shoving him out, because Isaac was under the impression that Cain only wanted her as a pawn. However, Cain's feelings changed and he didn't want to admit it to Isaac and bring about doubt in his abilities. And again, you guys are guessing my work before I post it in writing >_< I'm getting rusty! And no, no, pretty little Dietrich with and angel's face and the devil's sense of humor will not be the one suffering in the next chapters. Don't suffer too much with Isaac on this one, cause I made it pretty bad >_<

WARNING: This chapter is VERY VERY violent and VERY disturbing. Yes, I have torture/violence warnings in the summary of this story, but I am kind enough to warn you again! Bodily harm is involved in this chapter and it is graphic! If you do not wish to read it, skip over it. This chapter describes Isaac's punishment only and if you don't wish to read it, you won't be missing much. Suffice it to say he gets what he deserves.

That being said.... READ AND REVIEW! PLEEEASE! STARVING ARTIST! FEED THE PATHETIC STARVING ARTIST! Thank you and good night.

Chapter 27: Hell Hath No Fury

Cain escorted Alex back to the main hall where the rest of the coven was assembled. Instead of the light mocking laughter she’d heard upon her first introduction, she was now greeted with quiet awe. She and her Master were both clad in white and she looked elegant, strong yet small on Cain’s arm. He towered over her, surveying his coven, daring any to challenge her blatant new position. They all marveled at the firecat they’d seen little more than a week before, now wearing a posture collar, dangling demurely from their Master’s arm. Alex could feel Cain on the edge of her mind, calming her so that her fingers no longer trembled on his arm. She took a deep breath and she felt his question more than she heard it. She was ready and she gave his arm a slight reassuring squeeze.

“I present your Queen, Alexandra.” Heads turned in the crowd, shock rolling through them like a wave. Cain gave them a moment to recover from his proclamation, but only a moment. “Bow before your Queen and watch as she cements her position at my side.” Cain released her and she took a few steps forward, looking at Isaac’s form, hanging by his wrists in the center of the room, the chains attached to his shackles disappearing into the ceiling. Alex regarded Isaac’s back, watching him quivering in fear and anticipation, smiling at all the Methuselah that bowed before her.

She relished his fear, how his smugness had vanished in light of being half stripped and shackled in front of the entire coven. Alex hiked her skirt, pulling one dagger, then the other. Cain grinned appreciatively as the other Methuselah marveled at the tiny flash of pale skin, the show of muscle, and her impressive weapons. Walking around to see Isaac’s face, Alex leaned in close, grinning up maliciously at him. She raised a dagger tip, pressing it to his chin, forcing him to look up into her face. He glared at her, gritting his teeth, his fangs just hanging over his lips.

“You have brought this on yourself, Isaac. Did I not tell you that you were not to touch me? Did I not warn you that I would leave you in a bloodied heap?” Alex’s voice was low so that only Isaac could hear her. If Isaac hadn’t been in his current situation, he would have said her tone was rich and seductive, but given the situation, he thought it quite sickening. He realized then how very unnerving he must appear to others.

“I will not make a sound, Terran. You cannot hurt me any more than a child can hurt an adult.” Alex stood and laughed, a deep haunting sound, her head falling back slightly.

“We shall see.” As Alex rounded his side, taking her position at his back again, a few coven members rolled a makeshift serving cart towards her. It was covered in gleaming instruments of torture and she smiled quietly, some small part of her hating herself for wishing this on someone else. She stood, running her fingers over metal hooks, knives of various sizes, some serrated, some just smooth and razor sharp. Thoughts of her mother, of her life struggling to find proper work, to avoid the less than savory types of work that were always available to women, Cain’s capture, Isaac’s smug face. All of her life, every miserable event swept through her mind and she felt hatred rise in her throat like so much bile.

She fought it down, her eyes falling on a curious bowl filled with clear liquid. She plucked a hair from her own head, dipping it into the liquid. There was no theatrical hiss, no small plumb of smoke, but the hair disappeared as it entered the liquid, wilting like a rose in winter. She smiled, knowing just what she wanted to do first. Raising her daggers, she dipped them into the bowl, covering them in the clear liquid, approaching Isaac slowly, her boots clicking sharply, torturously on the stone floor. She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, her dagger hovering over his skin.

“I will leave a roadmap in your skin. Though it may heal, as your bodies are wont to do, I daresay you will never forget the path you took to bring you here. Your flesh is mine to decorate, an open canvas for my hatred.” Alex had unknowingly bared her dull Terran teeth while she nearly spat the last sentence in his ear. She pulled back, her face a stoic mask, much like the one Isaac himself wore, and she noted the tension in the room. She gently pushed his beautiful hair forward over his shoulder, exposing his bare back. She slowly, almost lovingly, ran the flat of the dagger down his back, her face never changing even as his skin seemed to boil and crack apart like a piece of paper caught in a blazing fire. His skin peeled away, revealing the muscle beneath, and before she’d finished her swipe, from his shoulder blade to his hip, the skin where she’d started was already sewing back together, leaving only an angry red patch of skin. She chuckled, low and deep, a mirthless sound that shocked even herself. Isaac was panting, but had otherwise made no sound. Alex leaned forward, laving his other side with her treated daggers, whispering to him.

“Not as pleasant as the last time you felt the sting of my daggers, hmm?” Isaac glared at her from the corner of his eye as she hung her chin over his shoulder from behind. He bared his fangs at her and she licked her lips, turning the blade to slice into his back. She watched, some part of her revolted by her own behavior, but a larger part, a part she’d kept hidden even from herself, reveled in the feeling of power it gave her. Power radiated through her being, knowing that the man huddled before her was completely at her mercy. Every last event in her life, every tear she’d shed had hardened inside her and created a wall of stone that could only be surmounted by her anger, and it did not fail her. She felt embittered then, watching his face contort in silent pain, wondering why she should hold sympathy in her heart for such a loathsome creature, when no one had held sympathy for her, even as an orphaned child. She had never done anything wrong, yet she should feel pity for Isaac who had tortured countless people indiscriminately?

She drew back, making slice after slice into his skin, watching as his pale skin sealed back together as if her ministrations were nothing. She knew it pained him, even if he didn’t vocalize. She was willing to bide her time until he did. She made tick marks in his skin, counting the hateful things her mother said, the bosses she’d had to swallow her pride in front of, the men that had tried repeatedly to take advantage of her. She only stopped when her thoughts fell on Abel. Abel would not do such a thing as this, and if he ever knew she did it, he would be appalled. She stopped, seeing the last cut sew together, leaving only angry welts, like cat scratches across his back. She stood back, watching as even these grew pale, disappearing so that it appeared she’d never even touched him. She returned to the table, setting her daggers down. A coven member stepped forward, retrieving the daggers, disappearing to clean them.

She returned to the cart, examining the implements as Isaac tried, in vain, to shift into a more comfortable position. She smiled as his chains rattled, echoing through the hall. Reaching down, she unhooked a cat-o-nine tails, watching the thin thongs as they tumbled to the floor. She raised the whip to eye level, inspecting the carefully braided tails, finger the knots where each tail split into three more thongs. She weighed the handle in her hand, getting a feel for the balance of it before using it. She moved over toward Isaac, standing only steps away, and let fly three strikes with blinding speed. Isaac loosed a pained grunt, but still refused to vocalize properly. Again, Alex felt the pain and rage that she’d hidden all her life rise and take hold of her heart. A chill ran down her back at the cruelty she felt coursing through her veins. Her thoughts settled on her mother, the one person she would never again have the chance to rage at.

This is for being so cold.

Thwap!

This is for hating me for being born.

Thwap!

This is for blaming me for my father’s ignorance and abandonment.

Thwap!

This is for never being there when I had no one else to comfort me.

Thwap!

This is for telling me no one would ever love me, that I was a waste of time and space.

Thwap!

This is for making me hate you.

Thwap!

This is for making me hate myself.

Thwap!

Alex stopped when Isaac finally cried out, his back painted red with his own blood. She’d lashed at him with all her strength and had shredded the skin on his back. Once again, she could see underlying flesh, and his blood ran freely down his back. There was nervous shuffling in the crowd and Alex smiled to herself to see that it was beginning to take longer for his skin to seal back up.

“Remove his clothing.” The two coven members that stood on hand as assistants to her punishment session glanced nervously at their Master. Cain nodded his head and they moved forward to strip his pants away. Alex lashed out at Isaac again, her blows falling furiously on his exposed backside and thighs, her face contorted in unadulterated fury. Her thoughts passed once again to the various men in her life that had basically told her she was useless. In that instant of fury, Isaac became the channel for all those men. He was growing weak from his beating, and even he couldn’t keep quiet as Alex’s well muscled arms doled out his punishment. The loose tendrils of hair stuck to her sweat dampened forehead, and she only stopped Isaac’s lashing when her arm began to burn and ache. She smiled, the sensation giving her an idea.

Alex beckoned one of the assistant Methuselah over and smiled as he stepped close, uncertain of her intentions. He drew close and she whispered in his ear. His eyes grew wide, a look of panic painting his features as he blanched. He nodded, sputtering his reply, and turned to leave and retrieve the requested implement. Alex stepped forward, picking up one of the daggers they had cleaned and returned to the cart. She walked up to Isaac slowly, watching him tremble at the sound of her sharp heels clicking unmercifully against the stones. She pulled his hair back into place, letting it fall against his ravaged back. Even though the wounds had started to heal, his hair fell against the fresh cuts, making them sting. He hissed in pain and she grabbed his long gorgeous hair.

“I do hope you’ve learned your place. Didn’t you once say something about destroying everything I am? I will take away everything that gives you pride, Isaac. You will remember this the rest of your days.” Without another word, Alex fisted his hair and swiped cleanly through it with her dagger. She let his bloodied raven hair fall to the floor unceremoniously, chuckling at the butchered look she gave him. She knew his hair was a sense of pride for him and it would take at least a few days to grow back to the length he’d had it.

The assistant returned, carrying what appeared to be a metal wedge, the tip glowing an angry red. She chuckled and came to face Isaac again, grinning at the look of dismay that painted his face. Knowing this would be the last wound to heal, she pressed the poker into the curve of his hip, inches away from his sex. She held it there for a few moments, making sure it made it’s mark. She applied the poker twice more, creating a crude “A” in his flesh. Isaac shrieked, his head thrown back in pain, his fangs gnashing at the air. The smell and his screams made her stomach roil, but she had an odd sense of satisfaction when she pulled away. His eyes were rolling into the back of his head, his earlier smugness wiped away by the torture she’d inflicted. She came back to her senses, her anger, her hatred melted, and she stared at him, terrified by what she’d done. She dropped the poker to the floor with a painfully loud clatter and turned, striding over to Cain. He opened his arms wide and swept her into a tight embrace, gazing in awe at the lashes on Isaac’s back that were still struggling to heal. He cooed softly to her, letting the coven shuffle in unease at the scene laid before them.

“Let this be a lesson to all. Alexandra is your new Queen and she will be treated with the respect befitting a Queen. If I hear the tiniest whisper of action or speech against her, you will suffer her wrath as well as my own. Someone get Isaac fresh blood so he might heal.” Cain offered his arm and Alex gladly accepted, hooking her tiny arm through his. He swept her from the room, bringing her swiftly back to his bedchambers, her fingers trembling violently against his arm. Once in the bedroom, Alex sunk onto the edge of the bed, trembling from head to foot, her face an emotionless mask.





Hey, Miss Murder, can I make beauty stay if I take my life?