What. A. B*tch.
That girl has some serious issues. I don’t own her? Of course I don’t bloody own her. And if only she knew what she was saying... “Only my soul” She hasn’t got a clue. It would be vaguely endearing if she wasn’t so adamant.
Her surface thoughts are so loud, it’s like she’s shouting them through a microphone at me, but what lies beneath is what I’m after. And she knows it. I pull back, thinking about how I might get into her mind again. The answer clicks. It’s so simple. I pull the broken links of silver from my pocket and go behind her. I put my hands on her hips, forcing her to stay still and not turn around. She shouts at me to get off, but I send energy through her figure, paralysing her muscles.
‘The bonds of the underworld that you’ve labelled “hell” have been broken. This mean anything to you?’ I send the thought through her and her screaming surface thoughts – dull ordinary things to mask what I want to know – all stop abruptly. Nothing comes to the surface but at least I don’t have to hear about some trip she took with a mate a while back anymore.
‘No.’ She’s hiding the truth.
‘Liar.’ I accuse, putting the silver against her neck. She shivers at the cold touch of the ethereal metal and I bind it to her skin.
‘Tell me now?’ I ask, walking around to face her again. I pull my glamour back on, the bad boy face, the soft jet black hair, the light dusting of stubble and the defiant look in my eye as my toned six and a bit foot high figure leans in to her. I gently kiss her on the lips and the look in her eyes betrays all. She might not trust me, but I know now what I knew before, the thought only confirmed.
The silver was my channel from before, making whatever pain and suffering that I could feed on as strong and potent as possible. It worked in a similar way now, but at a distance, channelling thoughts and memories instead of pain. Connecting to the silver was not the hard part. Getting the right memory is, though, and I’m being bombarded with useless nonsense. ‘Show me your visions’ I command through the silver. Gradually they trickle through, the images making only a little more sense than the one I experienced earlier. Frustrated I growl lightly, the cracking glamour distorting. I focus and from the frozen girl’s mind, I find all manner of things.
Eventually, I see it. The flashing fire and something about a lock and key to hell. It still makes very little sense, but at least I know I can get what I want from people, regardless of how complex Roxy claims they are.