Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.
Isabelle frowned at the intricate, deep red lines covering the length of her arms and forced her bile down. Weeks now and she still couldn’t stand the sight. Her bare arms bare a constant reminder of her deal. A reminder Luther Roe relished in, her preferences be damned.
Why had she made the deal? Her traitorous heart beat an answer. Isabelle glowered and raised her chin. She was used to heal. Just not to it including her serving tea.
Hands shaking, she nudged his study door open. His clock ticked away, steam from his experiments curled through the room, but the man, loosely meant of course, wasn’t present. Good. Isabelle she’d be gone before he returned.
A cable pulled taut beneath her feet. Isabel stumbled, desperately grasping the tray to keep the rattling porcelain in place. A second cord snagged her ankle sending her sprawling. Shards dug into her hands as she caught her fall. The forgotten tray banged against her knee.
Fingers scrapped her scalp gathering her hair into an unforgiving clutch. Isabelle didn’t resist as she was hauled to her knees, head was driven backward. He was there of course, grinning at her sadistically in his demon glory. Skin the color of blood. Black eyes which absorbed light. “I’d like a day without punishing you.”
“Then stop inventing them.” Isabelle grinned. She’d not be frightened of him. She had strolled through hell, one of its mistresses, as long as he had. What was a new damnation in eternity?
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