Die For You

Sep 18, 2008 17:20

Title: Die For You
Rating: NC 17 (just to be on the safe side)
Summary: Sort of the last section of my long fic only not because there are three different endings. This is just one fo them and follows the plot of the film.
Author's note: Don't worry about this being nearly the end  - i have plenty of "deleted scenes" to come!



Todd:

The bitch. The lying, deceitful, treacherous little bitch. The rage rushed up in him so quickly it both terrified him and left him utterly numb. And yes he was staring at the dead woman (Lucy) whoever she was, but he was thinking only of her, seeing only her frightened face just out of the corner of his eye and registering (Lucy) only those deep eyes, the only eyes deep enough to plunge into his soul, so scared she was as she babbled the excuses he didn't even (Lucy?) hear.

"Lucy?" he hardly even realised he had spoken aloud, his voice dead, the words turned to ash on his tongue, "What have I done?" The bitch, the treacherous, vicious, conniving little bitch. She had lied to him from the start, with every word she had ever said. Trusted her, that's what he had done. His one unforgivable sin. Dared to believe her when she had said that she loved him. Wanted to believe it so much. Wanted her so much and for so long - her love had been too good to be true. he should have known, should have known - but he had started to trust in it, started to think he could trust in her - in her love and her promises, almost in her sweet little dreams. To trust that he had finally found the one person who would not betray him, the perfect partner - and she had been for a while - but no, the ugly, bitter truth spilled out for him -

"You lied to me. From the moment I walked into your shop -"

And there was the rub. The true gnawing pain that sank its teeth into his brain and ripped it apart, not letting go. From the first. From the very first. Everything she had ever said to him - a lie. She was lying even now as she said that she had not lied. Everything she had ever said. Every lovely promise she had made him with her body and her words, every sweet temptation she had offered and that he had been so nearly ready to take shredded, blown into dust.

The bitch. The beautiful, terrible, evil little bitch. All her sweet sentiments scattered leaving her as nothing but a cruel, scheming, callous, deceiving little whore who had done nothing but use him for her own ends. Nobody used him and lived to tell the tale, especially one he had come so close to caring for. He groaned aloud at the innocence, the dismay, the apology in her pretty face. How could he have known - her eyes so clear, so sorry, so utterly guileless. How could she have tricked him so utterly against seeing her for what she really was?

He hated her. hated her as he had never hated anyone. As he had never felt for anyone. He had never wanted to feel anything again - all that gone, dusted, more than fifteen years ago. She had killed him then and then she had forced him always to feel, the warmth and loveliness of her body burning against him inside and out whether she was really there or not. How he had suffered for her as he saw now she had always meant for him to suffer, the witch - casting her spell on him, locking his heart and blocking his mind against all other thoughts than of her.

The bitch. He had come to think of her so much. Almost believe that she could be his future. How she had lured him and lulled him, letting him enjoy her, her body and her company, letting him have fun with her; that at least should never have been possible. Singing him into dreams, poisoning him into happiness. Making him care for her so much that at the lightest scream he had rushed to her side, panicked and filled with the longing for her - the longing he had suffered so long and was now driven to a frenzy by the recent, ultimate killing - the longing he was now free to surrender to forever. But she would never let him be free. He should have known. She would never let him breath; make him suffocate beneath her raging, selfish, treacherous love and his own desire that was positively worse.

"Die! Die!" she screamed and it might as well have been directed at him; he should have seen then the true viciousness of her animal nature. the falseness of all her tender pretence at kindness. Unable to love really, she would betray him as she had the boy, devour what she claimed to love to save her own skin.

But he had wanted her too much even then, her viciousness simply moaning in his ear, nails in his back as he brimmed over with the need to have her, shouting at her in his hurry to throw the trash on the fire, get in over with so that he could have her finally, again and again, up against the body of the judge, with no need to think of anything now but years of having her, of her flesh melting into his, healing and completing him, no need for anything else.

And then -

She was so stupid. So thoughtless. Her desperation not to have him notice that woman obviously bringing it to his attention as - after all - must have been her real intention. To break him, to destroy him for good, the final blow after seventeen years of torture at her pretty little hands.

Still talking, always still talking. His fury was so cold now that it frightened him - and he could not go to her and she would not come to him. He could not have her bandage him with her arms, not this time, when every embrace she had ever given him had been just another lie. He had known it - ha! - he had known her love for him was impossible!

"Yes I lied" she said, - "'cause I love you!" How honest she sounded, how true, how utterly incapable of not meaning everything she said, even now making him almost sway, almost believe that she had done it for him. It was, finally, one lie too many - how could she mock him with it when it was all he had ever really wanted to hear? He turned on her and his eyes, his voice, even beneath the mask of blood, must have shown her he meant her all the harm she deserved, all the harm it was possible to inflict, as he advanced on her swiftly, voice dripping with venom and she scuttled backwards, like a spider, trapped, into her corner - so. So she wanted to play - to tease him and deceive him to death - then he would play and he would win.

She came into his arms so willingly, he could no longer believe, as he held her close, as he heart beat wildly against his chest that it did not beat for him. He could no longer believe that she did not love him and thereby fulfil his certainty that she could not so comfortably. Her eyes - god, her eyes - she loved him, yes, loved him as he could never deserve, as he had never even dared to want too badly; yes, she loved him completely, selfishly yes - but could love really be otherwise? She was right - they were right, the two of them. They had a life before them free and waiting to be lived. She loved him and finally he could no longer deny that he loved her too. It split him two and merged all the pieces of himself into one with her as he looked at her now - really looked at her, as if for the first time. He loved her. Loved her completely. He had always loved her. He could not love, he had insisted on it for his very sanity, and yet he loved her, the bitch. The sweet, beautiful, kind, loving little bitch. Yet he could no longer blame her, he could no longer say that she had done this to him for he had loved her from before she even had the chance to try, to work her magic upon him, loved her from the first moment he had seen her. Too many years of wanting her, hard and lusting for her even now as he danced her to her death through this glorious hell in which they had made a home for themselves - too many years of denial, of fighting it - no, he could not just give up that fight and be happy as she wanted him to be - she wanted nothing else. He would never be as close to her as he needed to be, inside her skin, wanting to be one with her so much that he could no longer exist with it - and so, neither could she.

The flames are so close now my dear, and life is for the alive and you killed me long ago and I love you so much my sweet, my angel, my everything. All that I am is you and I should not live for I denied my own life in denying you, too much of a coward now to kill myself - this is all we have left my love, just the love in your eyes and the love in mine - can you see it through the blackness? The flames are so high, can you feel them yet? Will you die happy at my hand, knowing how I love you, how I could never live without you, it is myself that has burned, is burning and will burn forever for letting your light go out. All we have my love, this dance, this love and the flames that must burn you as they burn me - as they have burnt me these seventeen years. We are one you and I, never close enough in life, death will have to suffice instead and there is no greater closeness than in murder, in hearing the last of your heartbeats against my own, in hearing the last of your screams, in giving you the death you always feared the most. I won't ask your forgiveness my sweet, there is no forgiveness for this - and so, I shall be free to love you as you scream, to join you in death as I cannot in life - I love you my dear - goodbye -

How light she was, flying into the fire as though she did welcome it indeed. As though her thoughts were his and she would happily die for him if it would bring them together at last - but her screams, the screams he had always wanted to hear, of pure pain as she burned, the witch, burning for the sin of his love, of her own - that should not have begun, should not have been denied, should never have been let go unsaid. Everything he was burned with her, screamed with her until he could not bear the noise in his own head any more and slammed the door fast upon it, a blackness in his flaming eyes of the deepest most complete arousal he had ever known -

And that could now never be satisfied as he gave his throat willingly to the blade, peaceful finally as he went to her at last.

fanfiction

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