Death Becomes Her

"Castor, what have you done?"

I had thought not to visit him, especially given the fact that I had so boldly tossed him out of the room last night. Of course, I also knew he wasn't a man to be thrown out of the room of anyone unless he so wished. So with that in mind, I decided it was safe to seek him out. What I found, however, is not what I expected.

What lurks in the deep dark depths of a man's mind? I was soon to find out. The door opened on what seemed to be its own volition, an eerie gloom permeating the room, the walled shell filled with the scent of sex, liquor and death, my attention easily focused on the reason. The body of a woman, naked and obviously dead sprawled out on his couch.

My revulsion was apparent and I made no further entrance into the chamber of horrors, a macabre, grisly theater of death.

"What have you done?"

"Get out, No one invited you here. Lest of all not to judge me." He grumbled something and rose to his feet, I now seeing he was covered in what could only be her blood. Only then did it strike me odd that he had none on his hands.

Any sane woman would have promptly followed his orders. Would have turned around and run for her life, but I wasn't quite.. sane. It wasn't until he moved into the bathroom that I stepped closer to the dead. Perhaps here a clue would be found. One hand reached out to touch, though it was something I couldn't quite bring myself to do. Did I really want to see what terrors the woman had in the last few ehn of her life? Or was I better off not knowing? The latter, no doubt. But still, temptation over came sense.

I watched from the corner while she rode him, the sexual frenzy of the room an electric vortex of sinful strife. Her fingers were digging into his chest, the under nails of claws catching small dots of blood beneath. As I watched from the inner shadows, I had felt a moment of hatred, of betrayal, the urge to kill the woman intensely overwhelming and I fought for control. When I looked down at my hands, I could see the dagger, my fingers wrapped so tightly around the hilt that my knuckles had turned white where the flow of blood had been restricted. The hand that held steel was no longer mine, but it was one most definitely male.

For a moment I felt dizzy and my stomach dropped a hort or two, the pang of regret so tangible I could almost taste it. The dagger that had been displayed in my hand melted away and I could hear a woman groaning. One steeped in the fabric of ecstasy.

I was on top of him, the tips of my nails biting into his chest, Castor’s chest, even as he rocked upwards into my body. Now, Denarus, now! He was right where we wanted; a man caught unaware, one on the brink of mindless oblivion. Exactly where a man should be. I had taken hold of his wrists, pulling his hands to my hips. So close.. so close! I could feel Denarus behind me, the light of vicious vindictiveness wild and bright, then dulling with death’s realization, the dagger protruding from my chest. He was killing.. me.

No, not me, the woman whose eyes I had become.

Perhaps it had been his plan all along. A thousand realities passed by in that one fleeting ihn. The man had been the woman’s lover, she knew him. They, together, had laughingly plotted the demise of Castor, counting their coins long before gained, but something had gone horribly wrong.

I pulled my hand away, clutching and cradling the one that had so recently touched with my other as if I’d been burned. Only then did I turn towards the bathroom, peering inward, my voice odd, even to me. "Are you hurt? Do you need anything?" I would go, just as he wished, but only after I made certain he was alright.

"Come here." Wraithlike, I moved towards him, he taking me and setting me on the sink before him. "Touch me.. tell me what you see?"

I did not. Having only recovered from one scene, I did not wish to so quickly immerse myself in the cold waters of another.

"Did you see him?" His fingers had curled into fists. "Tell me all that you see."

When I did not comply, he took my hands and pressed them against his chest. "All of it?"

I felt as if I was going to be sick, seeing only bits and fragments of what followed. The fight, the man fleeing, the last shattered breaths of the woman who lay open and raw in a pool of her own blood, in a prophecy of her own making. A crazed Castor, unlike I had ever seen him before, wounded only by his unnerving lack of detail, having been inept in the diligence he was known for. The sensation was agonizing, the spill of emotions almost more than I could bear, the sound of my voice discomforting. It was like a shocking bolt of electricity and I tried to pull my hand away, but I could not. I was forced to see.

"They knew each other well, plan perfected and executed without remorse. She's been watching you, but not so much that you would know. Something happened, went wrong, he's..."

The terror I felt was sure to be mirrored in my gaze, the look of horror frozen on my face. The hand still held to Castor's chest curled into a claw, the protruding dig of nails raking across flesh. "Let go! Let go!" I couldn't breathe, gasping for what little air seemed to be allowed to pass. "It hurts! It hurts!" Only now did I fight against him, tears pricking behind my eyelids. "It wasn't the first, it won't be the last."

He did let me go, separating me from his touch by way of towel, hugging me, but no measure of comfort was gained, even as much as I appreciated it. I knew he was a man that did not offer comfort often.

"If you saw him again could you describe him?"

"Yes. I could stay if you wished. Help you.. clean up."

"No ..go back to the boy. I will come find you. It's not safe for you here."

Caught in the flood of feelings.. I stood there for several moments, unsure if I should leave or not, even though he told me to. I'd only continue to worry if I did go, and probably get on his nerves if I stayed.

I relented to his wish, pausing only when my hand had grasped the knob of the door. "I don't want to leave you here alone, you do know that, don't you?"

"And what do you think you are going to do? Kiss my wounds? I have none. I'm more trained than most assassins. Protect me? You can't protect yourself.. your sentiment is sweet.. and I do wish that that mattered. Do not fret I will take up residence a bit closer to you and Helix."

The twist of knob brought further affirmation that he was right, a nod offered as I pulled the door open and stepped outside, closing it with nothing more than a click. But still I didn't move, hovering just beyond the darkened womb of his room, still undecided. "Do as you are told Astraea, it's what is expected of you." Slave moved past me, having come from one of the other rooms, that being the catalyst that shifted me into motion, not at all certain I was happy about the fact that he would be closer to me.

.. and Aiden.