A/N: Hey all my loyal readers and reviewers, my musi decided to drag my attention kicking and screaming to a new direction. I mean this came outta left field thanks to a video posted on youtube "Tainted Love" a tribute to Hellraiser. I couldn't help but to be inspired. Just be warned this is a song fic and I don't know if I'll expand on this one-Rei
Summery: Her soul was his, and she knows it. Despite her denials, desperate in her evasions, the truth lay bare in their last encounter. He had but to wait for her to give in.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellraiser or any associated material with it. The song of this fic belongs to Evanescence.
The being formally known as Xipe Totec gazed intently into immaculate pool of congealing blood. Blood of an innocent unwittingly dragged into hell by his treacherous brother. But what has been done cannot be undone, and so despite all the attempts to the contrary, the man was still sentenced to leviathan's keeping, his sweet blood providing physical nourishment to the minor creatures of his hell. A valuable commodity and it was being spent in a seemingly frivolous matter, because without the lament configuration being opened, the prince of pain couldn't see 'her'.
Stoplight, lock the door.
Cupping his pale palms into the chrisom life force, the black pope of hell drank deeply of it. Not to take nourishment as the lesser demons did, but to pick apart the different flavors that was the Cotton gene pull and pin point the part that belonged to him. This was a skill not easily learned even with centuries of practice, like aged wine blood of an innocent only became more potent over time and humans were pure chaos, so it was nigh impossible to do. But for him it was but a looking glass to dreams, and he did so now, finding the path to the soul that had escaped him more than once.
Don't look back
And she was there, standing before him. Reliving their last encounter, his poor broken hearted child stared at him in horrified resignation. She had changed much since her adolescence, skin no longer pale under the glow of Leviathan through the cracks in the walls, hair not quite so long and bushy as he could remember. But yet still, in all her fragile humanity, desperately craving a normal life through the light of day, Kirsty was still beautifully cold. "We meet again, Kirsty." The words easily flow off of his tongue like a well rehearsed script.
The dark haired woman gazed upon him with the same desperate rage that had captured his attention when she had summoned him and his ilk in her hospital room. The time between then and now was merely a blink of an eye for him, she was sure. But for Kirsty it had been nearly a lifetime, torturous in its memory. Kirsty forcibly directed her thoughts back to 'why' she was here. Desire now cleverly hidden behind grief that had mangled her heart almost beyond all recognition, Kirsty glared at her would-be tormentor.
Undress in the dark,
Even terrified she answers, her movements restlessly jerky in her fright, but her mind very much functional nonetheless. And sometimes in the dark of his own domain, alone with no one to witness his loss of control Leviathan's favored one cursed her for it. "How did you find me?" It was more a stalling tactic than actual curiosity that drove her, he knew. But he indulged her, as it suited his purpose just as well. "I never lost you. I've waited. Watched and waited. Seen how the bud blossomed and ripened into firm fruit. But what to do? pluck it and consume it? Or watch it fall from the bough, rot and wither into dirt?"
The dark eyed woman felt sick with fury, fighting the bile that rose swift and sure up her esophagus and burned on her tongue. Forcing herself to swallow, Kirsty's eyes began to roam the familiar place that had long since haunted her every waking nightmare. He knew she was once again stalling for more time, trying to think through her terror and was fascinated by it. Fascinated by this new form of torment his soon to be plaything was unwittingly part taking in. "He wanted you here, not me."
And hide from you,
Kirsty's look of rage was very telling of how much of her soul had been corrupted by him. When the box came into her possession she was innocent, free of any wrong that could have called their attention. That is what they all thought, he and his subordinates that is until they felt her desire. And it was so akin to theirs, trenched deeply in the very center of her soul. And he knew even then she belonged to him. The fact that this latest betrayal only brought her closer into his keeping was a bonus. He had forever to wait, but that didn't mean that he would not coax the process along any way he could.
All of you.
Mockery laced his response, loving the flash fire flickering in its last death troughs of her eyes. "Still playing the innocent Kirsty? You disappoint me. After all these years haven't you realized that it's you that wants me here? You opened a door long ago, and it will not be closed until I get what I came for." He moved closer, allowing his black presence to brush against her fledgling senses. Watching as dark lashes involuntarily flutter against flushed cheeks, "my soul."She shook with the chill of fate's cruelty, causing all sorts of thoughts and feelings to vie for dominance in her already near shattered mind.
You'll never know the way your words have haunted me.
Tears that longed to roll fat drops down once full cheeks stubbornly refused to fall. Even though all she wanted to do was scream, Kirsty didn't dare disobey the order he long ago issued to her. She fears that tears would only draw his attention further. Kirsty then wonders how she could have effectively drawn his attention in the first place. She was but a mortal woman, a child when they had first met. Was her resistance truly so captivating? Was he truly so bored with his calling that anything even slightly unusual was considered worthy of his exclusive attention? Suppressing a shudder, Kirsty hoped with what was left of her heart not.
A grin almost involuntarily curled ghastly pale lips. It was an expression that had no business being there. Somehow Kirsty couldn't imagine any other expression other than the stony superiority that she had seen as a child. And yet here he was, smiling. Knowing her thoughts all too well, Pinhead spoke with a certain cruel pleasure the truth of the nature of his pursuit. "It is mine Kirsty. I possess it utterly, more completely than your pathetic Trevor ever could in his haphazard couplings. I touch the deep, dark, secret center of yourself. And you know it. You welcome it."
I can't believe you'd ask these things of me.
Rebellion welled in her throat, "no you're wrong." The denial was not unexpected, and indeed welcomed to an extent, seeing as he could afford to wait. But he was all too aware of how stubborn Kirsty could be. Maliciously he went on, savoring in the agony that he could cause her with only words. He had been so sure that this latest betrayal would be her downfall and that she would come into his keeping. "It was you loving husband who did all the hard work, he made it quite easy for me. It seems your family always does."
Kirsty's eyes became wide, nose flaring with the enraged fury at the dig on the destruction of her young life. Old wounds never completely healed suddenly forcefully tore open with salt and lemon coated blades. She wrestled against the urge to sink to the unforgiving floor, and wrapping her arms around herself as her the slivers of her soul would come undone. Kirsty would not give him the satisfaction of her aching all be it shattered heart. "That was Frank; I gave him back to you. I did what I promised."
You don't know me.
Unsurprised by the sudden outburst he looked upon her in fond amusement, his bland expression cracking further as she became more desperate. "Don't think I'm not grateful. I am, eternally grateful. But there was another bargain, wasn't there?" He paused, taking in the tension that turned the air heavy, idly wondering if it would crush her to death. It was easy to imagine as Kirsty jaw became slightly unhinged. "You will not have forgotten that I gave myself to let you run. Did you think that gift was noble and freely given? Did you?"
She flinched, powerless to stop the racking chills up her spine. Wrapping her arms around herself Kirsty ducked her dark head bitterly aware that once again she had been tricked. Unable to resist changing this part of their reunion, Pinhead moved, suddenly upon her in an instant his breath ghosting across her cheek, "I will not rest until I have what I want, and what I want is you." He abruptly grasped her hips, the hooks at the end of his digits digging into soft tissue. Kirsty clamped her teeth down on the sound that was clawing its way up her throat.
She screamed. Pure unadulterated terror ripping its way passed her lips, giving voice to the words she dared not utter, admitting to the fear she dare not let show in her waking life. Kirsty Cotton quaked, but couldn't sit up, couldn't see passed the living nightmare she had prayed feverously was gone when she had given up her name for the second time. "The box will never let you go", he had said, yet it was he, and to some extent Kirsty herself that wouldn't let go. And so screams gave way to sobs of self pity, rare, raw, and racked with desolation. Lyrics floated over her still form, her alarm clock signaling the reawakening day in her hell.
You belong to me,
My snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.
Soon I know you'll see,
You're just like me.
Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you.