(Another experiment that was worked into Plaything, here. What do those poor, insane, chained-up Sanctioned Psykers feel, one has to wonder...Now, of course this is an extreme case. Still, Sheka and Alexos work together well.
All terrible grammar is intentional, so as to convey the deranged state of Sheka's mind (though, in this piece, she is never named))
the voices had gone away, and she was alone.
she preferred it when it was that way. when all the voices were quieted down to a dull mosquito buzz. when all the light of the world that shone in through her third sight—not the eyes of course, the other sight—was dimmed to a nothingness.
it let her be alone.
but when she was out, let out to be free, though, she could see Him. He never spoke to her softly because of what she was but she remembered-
it was only when she was hidden away from the light and the voices that He spoke softly to her. even then, enough of the voices crept through the suppressant collar that told her it was just out pity that He did this. she didn’t care, and she couldn’t respond when He did do this, but it made her so happy. she wanted to cry out, to laugh and jump whenever His hand briefly brushed her—but she could not.
the only way she could please Him was to hurt the others, the dim-souls and dirty-change-fleshed that tried to harm Him and His fellow clean-flesh whenever He let her out. even then it wasn’t Him she was pleasing but His sense of duty, but it made Him more content and so it was reason enough.
she hurt Him, she knew. she made Him cry at night when she was kenneled and He was bedded, alone. It hurt her so badly to hurt Him—it cut her so deep—but she couldn’t stop. she couldn’t stop without going away, and she couldn’t have gone away if she had wanted, because of the Bright Chains that bound her up. however, she knew that she would never want to leave Him. never ever ever, because she loved him, and He loved-
and He loved-
but He never even liked her when the collar and blindfold were off. so she was happy that the voices had gone away, and besides, the voices always hurt her. the only time she had control of her body, though, was when the voices were there with her.
but she could never tell Him that she she loved Him, not even when the voices were there and the collar was off. so it was better when she was alone. she liked being alone.
but she knew that it was a lie, that she lied to herself, that the voices lied to her, and that He lied to her and to Himself.
because she remembered when He spoke softly to her and she laughed, and she spoke softly back. because she loved Him, and she knew in her heart and mind and anima and soul and spirit and body, she Knew that He loved her still.
and she was so tired of being alone.
What sphinx of plascrete and adamantium bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Imperator! Imperator!
Last edited by Mossy Toes; 03-27-11 at 03:56 AM.