Down With The Sickness
Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes (oh no)
There is no turning back now
You've woken up the demon in me
-Disturbed, "Down With The Sickness"
Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly. For I have a little something here. Oh yeah, baby, I got a little something something right.. here and I grab shoulder tight. Shoulda done this a long time ago, killed Fangface and chained you to the wall, B. Those pretty green eyes wide when you realize I'm not as dumb as Xander looks and I figured out your little plan, beat you at your own little game. Don't fucking play me, B, don't do it 'cuz a playa's a playa and a game's a game and what was I talking about?
Right.
Don't try to beat me. I'm damaged goods already and I know every mindfuck in the book 'cuz I've had 'em all pulled on me at one time or another. And I've had 'em played on me by the best and you're sure not the best 'cuz here you are all chained up looking like a pretty little slut-toy.
Mine.
My ther-rapist used to tell me I didn't get enough love as a kid. No shit, Sherlock fucking Holmes, I got plenty of love.. I got love from my dad, the neighbor, and once from the fucking dog 'cuz my dad thought it'd be funny to get the dog to lick me down there down there and that's where I grab you now, just so there's no mistaking what my intentions are gonna be.
You let out this little innocent gasp like you didn't fuckin' know, bitch. I've wanted into those perfect cotton panties since day one and everyone knew it. Even prissy little Willow knew it, and to be completely honest with ya B, I think she'll be a little jealous when she finds out that you an' me are a thing now.
'Cuz you can't rape the willing and my finger's so wet right now I could give a fuckin' Mustang a lube job with it. I know you want me too, you can't fuck a fucker.
Forcing those thin thighs apart and shoving two fingers deep inside you and you moan, fuck how you just let it out and get even wetter if that's possible. I rub you in all the right places and you love it, you love every second of it. I know. Slayer connection, remember?
I want to tear into you like a wild dog with my teeth and rip you apart, bite your head off like a praying mantis. Like some violent predator and you are my willing victim. The sacrificial lamb, spread out against the wall, eyes wide like some chibi anime character, hair falling down around your shoulders in damp waves.
I imagine tearing open your stomach and eating you from the inside out 'cuz I'm hungry like the wolf.
I take a knife and cut your clothes down the front, slicing open the front of your body just a little bit. Just enough to sting and make you pant. I cut myself every day like this, wanna see the scars? But I won't take the clothes off for you, that's not how I work. I'm not the vulnerable one ya see. I always land on top now.
Pretty little tits hanging loose, nipples hard in the cool air and I twist them hard and listen to you cry. Cry, cry, cry. Crybaby. My uncle used to burn mine with cigarette butts and laugh with all his friends. Don't be such a pussy, B. You mean to tell me Angel didn't like a little pain when he was fuckin'? Pounding in and out of you like I am now with his big fat dead cock? I put the knife up to your throat and ask you if you want me to end it. That's all you keep saying, right? Stop it, Faith, stop it. You really want me to stop it?
Do you?
Answer me, you little twat.
You shake your head no and I run the knife down your body, sliding the handle into your panties and up inside of you hard. You're fuckin' lucky. I got the other end pushed inside me once while they held me all down and told me not to move while they made me come by rubbing my little eight year old clit. I was sore for fucking weeks.
But we're not here to talk about me, are we? No. We're not here to talk at all. I'm not much of a talker anyway, more of a doer really and I'm doing you hard and making you come again, all over my hand with those little gasps and moans and I pull the knife free and something inside me, it changes.
You're so fucking perfect, aren't you, B? Daddy's little fucking girl, everything I never had, everything I deserved, and you gave it all up for a fucking pile of dust on the sidewalk.
You don't deserve to live. You're so fucking stupid and petty and ridiculous. I could laugh at you while I slit your throat. Hopping a Greyhound over boy troubles, Xander once said, I wish you fuckin' knew what real problems were, you fucking slut.
You cunt.
I hate you I love you hold me die for me and I scream, loud and primal. And you stand there, eyes still wide as I fall to the floor, the knife hitting the ground seconds before I do and my reflection is splintered in the blade, split in two. Two Faiths, like one wasn't enough.
Your voice is soft and soothing. Let me go, we can work it out. Fuck you. Fuck you. I'll leave you here for the rats to feast on.
I'll leave you.
I take the blade again and press it to my wrist and those emerald eyes go even wider as I draw it down my arm, slicing through the skin like it's fucking butter.
Those fucking eyes are the last thing I see before it gets dark.
Those eyes.