matilda trapp is haunted (ghostchannel) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2015-01-25 01:38:00 |
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A sharp inhale passed through her lips as she fought the wince. No matter how many scars lined up and down her thighs, Matilda still was not used to the twinge of pain that came from the razor blade sliding seamlessly through her flesh. She bit down on the inside of her jaw and pulled the blade away, a scarlet trail left in its wake. She placed the blade on the cheap plastic of the sinktop. She pulled a tissue square out of the box and pressed it against her leg, watching in a daze as red blossomed across white. Next game the bandage; she tossed the tissue into the garbage bin and began to stick the bandage to her leg.
“Tic Tac Toe’d be more fun.” The voice was veiled and layered, but it was unmistakably his. The laughter that followed was the biggest give away.
Matilda swallowed and didn’t look up immediately. Instead she finished fixing the bandage to her leg and wrapping it in a thin layer of gauze before she stood and began to dress herself. Jeans made her uncomfortable, but they were easier to move in. She stepped into a pair and pulled them up to her hips, careful not to let the snag her fresh bandage. She claimed her fresh blouse and was in the process of buttoning it when she felt the cool air on her back.
“You’ve got a body you ought not be ashamed of. You’re wasting it underneath clothes like that.”
Her gaze steeled and fixed upon the ground in front of her. Matilda had to remind herself that this spirit was not her father, exactly. He was darker, more malicious than Luke had ever been in life. Or so, she wanted to believe. The true extent of his cruelty was never shown to her or her brothers, so how was she to know that this malevolent creature was in fact the same.
“Forgive him, Father,” she began the prayer.
“For we have sinned,” Luke’s laughter caused goosebumps to rise on her neck and shoulders.
Matilda turned to look at him, but he was no longer behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him. His form was fuzzy around the edges but moments came where they seemed to sharpen and become clear. He’s gaining strength, she knew. It would be another couple of days, maybe even a third, before he would be able to take over once more. She felt her pulse pick up at the prospect of losing control again. For as long as it had been happening, she just couldn’t get used to relinquishing the reins of her body. He took it by force every time and no amount of fighting did any good. Luke was always stronger.
“You’re a devil,” she whispered. Antagonizing him did nothing to help her situation, but she could not keep the words caged in her mouth. He wavered for a moment, but was suddenly in front of her, his expression dark, but a smile so wide it seemed painted upon his features.
“And what does that make you, sweetie? You ain’t nothing but a devil’s whore and play thing. Don’t you ever forget that.” His hand came up as if to grab her chin and if he had a more physical form, that’s exactly what would have happened. Instead, his hand passed through her, shocking her with the jolt of ice through her throat. She gasped, her jaw falling open and her eyes bulging. “I am what I was born to be, but you are whatever I’ve made you into.”
He dropped his arm and cackled again. “We’re leaving again soon. You ought to get your rest, princess.”
Matilda fought to catch her breath, her chest heaving. He moved away from her, fading into the background. He was always there, watching her, and no amount of hate changed how right he was. He was biding his time, regaining his strength, and the fear caused hers to ebb and drain away like water slipping through her hands. She left the small bathroom and crossed the hotel room until she was staring at the cheap, twin-sized bed. She needed her strength if she was going to fight him off when the time came.
No good. It won’t do any good…