My Power, Your Love by The StoryTeller of Old

The non-feelings are mutual

Seth MacFarlane was playing on my record player. I didn’t plan to make my thoughts melodramatic or end on a pretentious note about how I hated God or evolution. I thought calling and telling someone about it would be more embarrassing than anything. And, I didn’t want it to end on that note. I wanted it to end on a good note. A resounding note. A resonant note. A clear and loud sound that overtakes one’s body. The type of music you feel in your bones and makes your muscles tingle. It all disappears. Your worries, I mean.

You leave the music feeling more invigorated and filled to the brim with inspiration. If a beggar stopped you on your way, you would feel even generous. The best of humanity begins to bubble through you. I wasn’t accomplishing this as I stared down at the burgundy dark liquid in the glass. I felt nothing. It wasn’t even a feeling worthy of calling numbness. It was pure nothingness.

But, it was too late for second tries and thirds. It was happening. And, since it was the end, who cared? I put down the wine on the coffee table. My shaved tan leg was crossed over another. I decided to wear black for humor’s sake at least. That joke fell on death ears. The music was blaring to the point the glass walls of my living room vibrated. I lived in a stylish modern living room with a black and beige color scheme that I had paid some overly expensive home designer to create. It didn’t matter anyways.

I didn’t marry. I didn’t have children. On second thought...I picked up the glass and threw my head back, letting the bloody urine trickle down my throat. When I slammed down my glass and came back, my eyes were watery. I rubbed my eyes with my black sweater. This sweater cost one-hundred and twenty-eight dollars. Neiman Marcus.

I needed to fill up the glass with something stronger--I paused at the pantry--scotch? Beer? Whiskey, my old friend. I wanted to feel the burn down my throat. Anything. Any feeling was welcome to finally grace my empty heart. I used to say I hated feelings. They complicated life. That’s all. Or at least, that was my philosophy. I began to dance slowly with the music, smiling. I was a very prude child growing up. Never playing with other children. Never--well, I can’t say fucking boys was truly synonymous with falling in love.

I swayed with a really full and goofy smile on my face. Maybe I should’ve spent my whole life drunk instead. I grabbed the walls walking towards the dark bathroom that was just a couple yards away from me. I paused. I had the itch to pleasure myself just once more.

I walked towards my bedroom, falling childishly on the bed. My hair became messy. ‘I thought we were going to do this with more grace, Kagome,’ I thought. I fell onto my back, stretching my limbs, still smiling. I regretted making the speakers play the same song on repeat. I grabbed my purple long vibrator, intent on making myself feel. Just anything.

~~~

I had my mask on. I didn’t know what I was doing out here. I didn’t even really have the need to kill. But, I was bored. And, besides--killing was good to get the blood pumping. I could take up exercise, but why not killing? I spied some loft with all the living room lights on. The windows weren’t even shaded at this time of night. Anyone could just break in. As I stepped closer, I noticed the music was blaring. Would anyone even gain fun from a game just soo easy? Eh. What the hell.

I trekked down the hill towards the living room and stared inside. Not a soul. Hmm. I began to examine the front door. It was a lock that would only take some foil and a pick. I could have it done in fifteen minutes flat. As I grabbed the knob, ready to do my work, the door opened slightly. What? I turned away in disbelief.

I walked in the expensive living room. There was none of the tell-tale signs of children, but there wasn’t even pictures on the walls of anyone that lived here. I had hardly ever came to houses without anyone on anything. I glanced at the music stereo blaring music and contemplated turning it off. The same song was playing over and over. I walked down the dark hallway. Another light--a lamp light--lead the way into what would most likely be--aha! A bedroom. I saw a woman with loose curly raven hair sprawled out on her bed with what I was assuming was a vibrator tucked in her pants.

She glanced up at me and smiled--I could see the dimples on both sides of her cheeks. She had a full row of white teeth. I gathered from the empty wine glass that she was drunk. No rational person would stare up at a stranger with an animal mask on, uninvited, and smile.

I bent my head to the side and stared at her, my signature look that scared and tore screams from throats. But, she just smiled back at me--her eyes now fixed on me. She suddenly stopped smiling and her mouth slightly opened. Her dark hazy pupils dilated as her chest convulsed. She was all around beautiful. I wondered whether or not I was in the mood for a mercy rape before I killed her. Sometimes, I would let my captives live a little longer enough for me to please myself before killing them.

I fondly remembered the red haired woman with pale pinkish skin that begged--screamed for me to “just rape her”. “Just rape her and then leave her alone. Because she wouldn’t tell anyone.” She reminded me of a white rat for some reason. And, I fucked that white rat. All the while, she was grateful. She thought she had convinced me to spare her life and that was why I was fucking her. Ha. Ha. But, I never promised that…

The music static-ed for a second before turning off. I panicked. Was someone else here now? But, I turned back to the girl who was still lying down as if I were her husband, simply entering into the house. No emotion. No care.

No! This bitch was going to writhe of my own doing! She wouldn’t take this from me. The feeling...the passion...she would not win.

I grabbed a knife that I had slipped inside my hoodie and held it up in the light.

“So, would you like it down the throat? Perhaps the stomach? I’m desperate to see what you’ve had for dinner. Maybe in the cunt? Hmm?”

No response. Her eyes lifelessly resting in her eye sockets like a doll.

Suddenly, I noticed my own heart palpitating in my chest and constricting. The sweat on my palm made it harder to squeeze the knife. What was this feeling? Adrenaline?

-------

I opened my eyes to a blurry vision of a man standing over me wearing an animal mask. I wasn’t going to stop masturbating if that’s the reaction he wanted. I saw frustration cross his face at my apparent lack of emotion. Then, he pulled out a knife. I saw my own reflection in it.

He was my own personal death angel, here to bring me...well, the obvious. However, he did seem rather disappointed at my excessiveness of apathy.

So, I turned over and put my face in the pillow. I soon felt his whispering voice in my hair.

“Are you afraid to die?”

------

She turned around so fast my grasp on the knife slipped. She brought her hand to my mask and felt the fur. I didn’t expect this. It bothered me that she held the control now. I wanted to do something, but curiosity set in. She wasn’t trying to overtake me. That would be stupid. She wasn’t running away. I would catch her. But, she was also not afraid.

She slipped the mask off my mask. Dammit. Wrong move, bitch.

----

I was wondering why he wasn’t stopping me from touching his mask. But, I continued anyways. It didn’t matter what he would do. It would all end.

My gaze fell down to the dark tan skin on his neck. If I removed the mask, would he be attractive? Would he be the ugliest man I ever met on earth?

He wouldn’t like it if I removed his mask. In one swift movement, I threw back his mask.

-----

I straddled her and held the knife poised above her left cheek. She gasped as her eyes widened. Tears fell from her eyes. Her gasps quickly became laughter as she closed her mouth with her hand.

My eyes narrowed at her as I scoffed. Women. There was a reason I kept on my mask.

------

I didn’t expect him to turn out so beautiful.  His tan-golden skin glowed in the lamp-light while his eyes reminded one of a sunset that was forged with gold. He had long dark eyelashes that looked like they belonged on a girl with even longer hair---silver.

The unexpectedness of this made my voice quiver. What was this? Fear? Sadness? Elation? I didn’t know. But, whatever it was, I was feeling it.

----

The girl slowed down her rapid breathing and obnoxious noises. Should I just kill her or leave? I wanted to leave. Now that she had seen my face…

Tch.

“Gee. I wish you would’ve wandered into my college dorm room in 1997 instead of Adam.”

“What?” I asked her, glancing towards the strange creature.

“Adam--well--” She looked as if she had just remembered that she was talking to her killer instead of a random guy off the street.

“Adam was my college boyfriend for a while because he wandered into my dorm room when I was drunk. And, we fucked. But, I was only his because I thought I might get pregnant.”

I sat down on the bed and sighed. This was not how I had planned out my night. I motioned to the walls with my knife.

“Do you want to explain why you have no pictures on your walls?” I asked, turning towards her.

She swallowed. “I never married. I never had children. I just existed.”

Why? I wondered, perplexed. She was young and attractive. I could imagine all the men that would of loved to rape--marry--fuck her.

“Why not?” I said, suddenly. “Why didn’t you get married?” I said a little louder.

She looked at me as if she truly didn’t want to tell me.

“Hey, keep talking or I’ll get bored. And, the sooner I get bored, that means that your time has run out. So, I suggest-”

“-I didn’t want to. Get married, that is. It was some construct made to keep women from achieving things and pin them down...Or at least,” She blinked.

That’s what I told myself.” She finished, wiping tears from her face.

I got a little pissed to say the least. “So, you won’t cry when I threaten your life, but you will when you think about how you’re not married..That makes a lot of sense, lady.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t really have a life worth living.” She smiled. “I was--um--going to kill myself tonight.”

So, that was it. The loud music. The unlocked door. It wasn’t that she had forgotten or was even that stupid--she simply didn’t care.

Scoff. Well, if my own captives didn’t care about their own life, why should I care about taking them? That wasn’t any fun.

I got off the bed, facing away from her, I said-

“You can keep your life. Call the authorities. I don’t care.”

“I would still kill myself. You’re safe,” she said, smiling and raising her calves up in a playful manner.

“Then, I’ll kill you-” I said, whipping around and pointing my knife to her throat.

And, I’ll make sure it’s more painful than you could imagine. I’ll make sure it lasts for weeks,” I said. Her breath hitched.

“Get married. Have a family, my little cat. That’s your task for me. And, don’t worry. I’ll be back,” I said, turning and leaving. I left the bedroom and paused at the living room. I hit play on the stereo and the speakers began to play Seth MacFarlane My Way again.

I made sure to lock the front door as I made my way out the door. She would fall in love with my parting gift. Think that someone actually cares about her pathetic existence. Get married. Have children. Forget about me. But, just when her life is going well…

I smiled under my mask while I stood on the hill, staring at her lit-up house.

Yes, I would be back. Never fear, my little cat. I would be back. And, I would have the power. Your chest would throb and convulse while I stared at you, my knife plunged inside of you. This is gonna be fun.