Katarina Alexander

I feel my hands tied with flesh, it should be something new, it should be strange but it's known, pain is an old friend the darkness brings back their faces side by side walking towards me and for the first time I don't scream, I don't wake up from the nightmare with the certainty that they will come, for me and me alone.
I open my eyes to find a darkened shed, the heat making the wires stick to my back, my jeans stuck to my mud-smeared thighs and my black T-shirt clutching my breasts. Strange bare feet on top of the bench melting betraying any movement I could give, I see the pair of black leather boots leaning against a far wall, I am still able to feel the hands rubbing against the skin last night and the pleasure running through all my veins.
I smile into the void, of all Beatrice must be the only one who knows that side, after all we are two halves, each push, each hug and each whisper at dawn was her way of feeding the imprisoned animal. Her manipulation mixing with my cruel thoughts, her dirty ideas mixing with my lust.
Perfect princesses, perfect wives, perfect mob dolls.
We would be like this, in an ideal world maybe this was our dream to be like the others, Beatrice clung to hope being shattered over the years, Giacomo painted a world of illusions to sustain what needed to be, and I just faked the dementia it was easier though tedious now the perfect loose monsters molded to roar to life, the lust for the pursuit of bloodlust, underneath so much pomp and etiquette our family was built to destroy.
I take a deep breath, letting my mind escape to the pain, the latent desire for pain and the fascination with feeling it.
So when the executioner opens the door, I don't blink my eyes only to feel the pain starting in my retina burning after several hours in the dark, I smile at the confident man that way he must be a soldier. The motherfucker smiles like he's been given candy, his dirty hands touch my jeans, I let a childish smile appear along with the perfect doll.
One unwary, one blink, one moment and the serpent strikes.
I smile like the harlequin in that movie bragging about being a doctor, feeling her body squirm between my legs, my wide eyes reddening as my skin turns purple from asphyxiation like a fed snake, satisfied sigh as my body falls lifelessly to the floor , breaking the tattered bank.
The door opens again and there is the night terror that haunted it.
He should have known that a good student always learns the teacher's tricks.