Pinhead ficlet - Perception
Thursday, 19 April 2007 06:01![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
immaPinhead's fingers closed around thin air as the woman slipped away once more, her eyes wide with fear, her chest heaving in panted breaths. Cuts from the sharp metal of the hooks marred the beautiful features and yet ... she had never been as gorgeous as she was now, in the final hour of her mortal life.
He laughed softly, enjoying the play and the sight.
"Let me go!" Her voice held a quaver that betrayed her command. A woman used to getting her way, in life, in court, in ... love.
"Why, my sweet?" He asked kindly, sliding a leather covered finger along the edge of the table. "I have such sights to show you yet."
"I don't want to see any fucking sights, you ... you ..." words failed her, the vision in front of her defied her imagination. What kind of mad man would do this to himself? And how had he gained entry to her flat... and what about those hooks? What was going on? Her confused brain staggered under the load of input and unanswered questions, everything going against what she knew of the world. What she was used to.
She had just been puzzling with that box... She had done NOTHING wrong, even if it was evidence in a case. Fingerprints had been taken and it wouldn't harm to handle it... touch it.
"Ah ... what to call me? Angel to some ... demon to others. What am I to you, Angeline?" Pinhead stepped closer, his voice the low croon of a lover.
"Freak!" She shrieked, more afraid of the jolt of reaction that ... rotten voice had stirred within her. Waking desires she couldn't, no wouldn't think of anymore. That wasn't who she was! She backed further away, ignoring the scrape of the raw wall against her back.
Pinhead laughed, delighted. Oh, if only all were as entertaining as this.
"Mm... the pins confuse you?" He raised a hand to the sharp pins at his forehead and closed his eyes as his fingers stroked over and between them.
"So many hours of pain, so much pleasure, each embedded with such care and such cruel love, it made me weep with joy." His voice turned deep, lusty, at the memory, and he opened his eyes again to look at the woman.
Her face was contorted with disgust, as she momentarily forgot her own peril, focusing on the perverted and demented mental image of nail after nail being pushed into his skin, flesh and skull. A whimper sounded from her as she realised what she was facing. This was not some lunatic who would crumble into a sobbing mess once he'd ranted out. This wasn't a hungry drug addict who simply wanted your money for the next fix. This wasn't the car thief who'd shoot you if you didn't get your arse out of the car quickly enough, or even the sociopath murderer who looked like the guy next door and wanted to kill you...
This looked, sounded and reeked of Death, and the black eyes fixed on her promised what only true demons could give.
A glint of metal caught her eyes and she froze against the wall, as Pinhead raised the razor sharp sickle to admire the tainted blade.
"Demon," she whispered, suddenly remembering all the prayers her mommy tried to teach her, all the saints the nuns had told about, all the sins her priest had absolved her of with a few Ave Marias... She shuddered with a small whimper and turned her face away as Pinhead's cold hand slid up to cup her cheek.
"You will weep too, I promise," he whispered with a smile and stroked his thumb over her dry lips. He hoped not all the fight had gone out of her. But it mostly did, when they finally realised who they were facing...
Such a pity.
He laughed softly, enjoying the play and the sight.
"Let me go!" Her voice held a quaver that betrayed her command. A woman used to getting her way, in life, in court, in ... love.
"Why, my sweet?" He asked kindly, sliding a leather covered finger along the edge of the table. "I have such sights to show you yet."
"I don't want to see any fucking sights, you ... you ..." words failed her, the vision in front of her defied her imagination. What kind of mad man would do this to himself? And how had he gained entry to her flat... and what about those hooks? What was going on? Her confused brain staggered under the load of input and unanswered questions, everything going against what she knew of the world. What she was used to.
She had just been puzzling with that box... She had done NOTHING wrong, even if it was evidence in a case. Fingerprints had been taken and it wouldn't harm to handle it... touch it.
"Ah ... what to call me? Angel to some ... demon to others. What am I to you, Angeline?" Pinhead stepped closer, his voice the low croon of a lover.
"Freak!" She shrieked, more afraid of the jolt of reaction that ... rotten voice had stirred within her. Waking desires she couldn't, no wouldn't think of anymore. That wasn't who she was! She backed further away, ignoring the scrape of the raw wall against her back.
Pinhead laughed, delighted. Oh, if only all were as entertaining as this.
"Mm... the pins confuse you?" He raised a hand to the sharp pins at his forehead and closed his eyes as his fingers stroked over and between them.
"So many hours of pain, so much pleasure, each embedded with such care and such cruel love, it made me weep with joy." His voice turned deep, lusty, at the memory, and he opened his eyes again to look at the woman.
Her face was contorted with disgust, as she momentarily forgot her own peril, focusing on the perverted and demented mental image of nail after nail being pushed into his skin, flesh and skull. A whimper sounded from her as she realised what she was facing. This was not some lunatic who would crumble into a sobbing mess once he'd ranted out. This wasn't a hungry drug addict who simply wanted your money for the next fix. This wasn't the car thief who'd shoot you if you didn't get your arse out of the car quickly enough, or even the sociopath murderer who looked like the guy next door and wanted to kill you...
This looked, sounded and reeked of Death, and the black eyes fixed on her promised what only true demons could give.
A glint of metal caught her eyes and she froze against the wall, as Pinhead raised the razor sharp sickle to admire the tainted blade.
"Demon," she whispered, suddenly remembering all the prayers her mommy tried to teach her, all the saints the nuns had told about, all the sins her priest had absolved her of with a few Ave Marias... She shuddered with a small whimper and turned her face away as Pinhead's cold hand slid up to cup her cheek.
"You will weep too, I promise," he whispered with a smile and stroked his thumb over her dry lips. He hoped not all the fight had gone out of her. But it mostly did, when they finally realised who they were facing...
Such a pity.
