Io's Jacket.

Io stands still as the guard slips his

Large, callused, dirty hands beneath the jacket.

He shifts her arms like she was a doll,

Uncappable of moving for herself.

He moves her arm forward and up,

Lingering just long enough to be innapropriate.

Io doesn't move.

Io doesn't speak.

Io just stands as her guard pulls her arms

Back. Together. Up.

A tightness settles in her shoulders

As he tightens the straps and buckles

The shiny silver buckles that keep her trapped.

Io doesn't care.

Io doesn't feel.

Io knows that someday she will get out.

Soon she slips her shoulders from their sockets

In a sickening, wet, crunching pop,

And ducks from her lily-white jacket.

Io frightens her guard,

Io frightens everyone,

So no one thought to look

For anything sharp.

Once she is free from her lily-white strap jacket,

Io pulls the slender, black, shining blade from

Where it was slicing into her oh-so visible ribs.

The guard didn't know what hit him

When Io sliced his neck open

And bathed in the crimson shower

Of a sliced jugular vein.

Io smiles,

The first sign of emotion she has shown

Since she killed her father.

She was tired of the screaming.

The man had done nothing but scream since

His wife hung herself over their bed.

Io was tired of his screaming,

So she cut out his tounge

And fed it to the dog,

Apparently, the great grey wolfhound liked it.

Oh yes, Finn must have liked that bit of tounge

Because he went back to Io's father,

For more.

So here Io stands,

Bathing in the blood of her gaurd

Smiling.

Io paints her jacket in blood

And smiles at the red.

 

Reviews

[Last Lying Look]

oooo.
Very good and graphic.
Love the details!