Perceptions

   Serlain paced the dimly lit room, muttering under her breath. Every few minutes she would stop mid-stride and pick up the object nearest her. For a few moments it appeared as though she was only admiring it, noting every detail, and perhaps she was, but with a tilt of her head and a sadistic smile she would turn and hurl it at the wall with such force that it shattered. Every object she threw shattered, it didn't matter what it was made out of. It seemed as though everything was as fragile as glass in her hands.

   After the object was destroyed Serlain would return to pacing and repeat the cycle again and again. When she finally decided she was done she turned to the corner I was standing in.

   "Come on you brat clean this up!"

   I moved out to clean up the disaster she had left in her wake. I pulled a towel from my apron and began sweeping all the shards into a pile.

   "What do you think you are doing!?" Serlain shreiked at me. I jumped, she was so silent, she crept up on all of us like a mouse, only to fly into a rage of terrible proportions. I shrank back against the wall.

   "I-I-I'm c-c-cleaning up l-l-like you s-said to," I whispered as I watched her face become very still. It was only the calm before the storm. I watched her waiting for the yelling and screaming.

   "You little witch!" She shreiked and grabbed my hair. "For your disobedience you will not be allowed to use a towel," she brought her face close to mine, "Instead you will pick up each peice individually, by hand. Now go! Get started!" She threw me to the floor as Nathaniel, the butler, walked through the door. He looked at me, lying in the shards, with disdain.

 

   I walked in on Serlain in the middle of one of her fits. The servant girl lying in a pile of something unidentifiable looked up at me fearfully. I felt no pity for her, I had seen Serlain do far worse, instead the only thing I could think was that she looked pathetic just laying there where Serlain had left her.

   " What is it Nathaniel?" Serlain asked obviously having forgotten her recent interaction with the servant girl.

   "Marconi is back and she has the...prisoner with her."

   "Wonderful tell her I'll be there within the hour, I have to get ready." The sadistic smile on her face made a shudder go through the girl on the floor. I bowed to Serlain and backed out the door.

 

   Serlain flew around the room getting ready. I handed her whatever she barked at me to get her. When she sat down to get her hair fixed she slapped my hand away saying I was too slow and took over for herself. Of course that didn't last long before she yelled at me to get back to helping her because what was I doing fixing her outfit?

   She was excited. No, she was ecstatic about interogating some poor soul. Well, I suppose that if they did something to upset Serlain this much then they couldn't even be considered remotely innocent. However, the way she took such pleasure at the thought of interogating someone was sickening. For the millionth time I wondered how I ended up in the service of this woman. I sighed not wanting to remember.

 

   The man in front of me was shaking, fear visible in his eyes. I smiled at the thought that I instilled fear in people. Of course, I was to be feared. This man had cheated me of something, come to think of it I don't even remember what it was. Oh well, he still has to suffer the consequences of what he did.

   I turned to Marconi, "Give me the witchblade."

   She handed the wicked blade to me. It curved violently and have a black aura, I loved this blade, it always made people talk. The fear in the man's eyes turned from fear to absolute terror. You could visibly see him giving up all hope, that was no fun. If he had no hope then I had no games to play, he would just tell me anything I wanted to hear immediately. I went over to him and bent over taking the rag out of his mouth.

   "What do you want from me?" He asked in a quiet, tired voice. I was disapointed, I much prefered it when they tried to be tough or make it seem as though they were in control.

   "Only my revenge," I smiled sweetl at him.

   He only sighed and looked me in the eyes, his an expression of pity. This angered me immensely, I had no reason to be pitied, only feared and hated. So I decided to draw his pain out. In my hands the witchblade carved runes into his skin. He screamed with each touch and I didn't stop until he went unconscious.

   "Put him in a cell, don't give him any food or beverage, and make sure he is ready for me tomorrow. I'm not done with him yet." Marconi moved to do my bidding. I stripped off my gloves and began humming to my self. I was already looking forward to helping him tomorrow. I sincerely hoped he would be more willing to talk then.

Reviews

[Sam]

building off your last comment C.E. questioning the genre of this piece I agree that it's a little difficult to pin down, however it does have an air of other worldliness to it, perhaps based on the names and the description of the blade and the use of runes...so I would venture to say fantasy or perhaps magical realism depending on (if you choose to develop the story further) how much of what you've created here interacts with 'real world' elements...

[C.E.Grey]

Thanks for the input :)

[Frieda P]

Intriguing, I want to read more!

[C.E.Grey]

Thank you, unfortunately my intention is not to expand on it :)

[hogan]

Not going to rate this one it is not my genre. I to like writing fiction, but tend to try and take a normal situation and give a twist to prove an edge of horror, if you care to look, try mirrors or the three free dreams of Justin Taylor, you will see why I don't want to rate this piece.

[C.E.Grey]

What genre would you say this is? I'm only asking because I personally couldn't really decide myself