“I’m sure you have a lot of questions-” the woman mumbled as she flipped through the pages in the book. I dropped into the chair and shot daggers at her with my eyes.
“You bet your goddamn ass I’ve got questions,” I snapped. She glanced up; disinterest painted across her pretty face. “Why won’t this dream end? Where am I? What am I doing here? Who the hell are you? Why did you torture and kill me? How am I still alive after you tortured and killed me? How do I get out of this dream?”
“As I was saying before you interrupted me,” she droned on. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I don’t particularly care. Suffice it to say, you now work for me.”
“Oh, hell no I don’t!” I growled. “As long as I’m alive I won’t work for your fat ass!” She cocked her eyebrow in displeasure.
“That can be easily remedied,” the woman’s voice didn’t change inflection, but the warning was clear.
“I’ve already been dead at least once!” I laughed. “Do you think I give a fuck if you kill me again? You’ve got no leverage, you Amazonian sociopath!” She wasn’t that much taller than I was…or, well, than I had been. Along with witty comebacks, insults weren’t high on my skillset either. She sat still for a moment before folding the book closed politely in front of her.
“I see you are planning on being troublesome,” she sighed. I sneered at her as she raised her hand.
“What are you going to do? Slap me?” I snorted derisively. “Like I care about-Gahk!” I gasped in agony as it felt like shards of steel were tearing through my heart, head, and groin simultaneously.
“I would say I don’t want to do this but, honestly, I don’t care,” the woman stared at me with her silver eyes. “The beauty with your situation from my standpoint is I can torture you as much as I want and kill you as often as I need in whatever way I choose, and you’ll keep coming back for more. You are the Prometheus to my Zeus. Do I need to have Sayuri eat your liver to convince you?” My mouth gaped open silently, my body shaking in unbelievable agony. I gasped and fell off the chair, quivering in pain on the floor. “Are you sufficiently convinced to behave yourself or do we need to continue this to its ultimate conclusion?” My body felt like it was tearing itself apart and I could barely manage a pained whimper.
A moment later the pain ceased, and I felt a sob rise in my throat. Tears slipped from my eyes and down my cheeks to pool on the floor. It felt like my whole being had been dragged under a bus for a kilometer. I curled into a fetal position and, unable to stop myself, sobbed brokenly. I felt the woman’s eyes on me but didn’t care. Everything hurt and this dream wouldn’t stop, and I finally had enough.
“What happened to her?” I heard Sayuri’s voice through the rushing in my ears but didn’t care. It was high time to have a nervous breakdown and I’d be damned if I’d be dissuaded. I felt the catgirl’s hair brush against my cheek. “Is she broken?”
“She’s having an existential crisis at the moment,” my newly sworn enemy replied. “Best to leave her alone for a bit and clean.”
“Okie, sir!” Sayuri replied brightly.
“For fuck’s sake,” my tormentor muttered and sat back on the chair. After several minutes of soul draining sobbing, I finally managed to get ahold of myself and gradually lapsed into silence. “Are you done, yet?” The woman prodded.
“I hate you,” I muttered. My head ached and my eyes were raw from crying but I did feel marginally better.
“I believe that’s been established, yes,” she replied. “Get up on the chair and let’s channel that toward something more…constructive.”
“Sith bitch,” I muttered, climbing to my feet. To my surprise, my arm and leg no longer hurt in the least. I glanced down at the dried blood on my thigh and was more than a bit surprised to find the wound had healed as if it had never been at all. “What the…” I poked where the wound had been curiously. “How did…” I trailed off again and poked my arm.
“Yes, yes,” the woman hissed irritably. “Sit down.” I grumbled under my breath and sat down heavily in the chair.
“I smell like blood and death,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. The gown I’d been wearing looked it’d just come from a zombie movie. “I need new clothes.”
“You’re far too needy,” she grumbled and waved my concerns away with a brush of her hand. “I have a job for you. Consider this a…trial period for a much bigger role to come.”
“I don’t want your job, your trial or any role. I want you to die in a housefire while being eaten by badgers,” I growled, glaring at her.
“I don’t recall asking what you wanted,” the woman’s gaze burned into me. “This isn’t an optional thing. You’ll do what you’re told, and you’ll succeed or die trying. And if you do, indeed, die trying, you’ll simply have to repeat it over and over until you get it right. I think you are misunderstanding, whether intentionally or no, the nature of our relationship. We are not equals.”
“Did your parents not love you?” I grumbled.
“My parents died when I was five,” she responded evenly. They probably did it to get away from her, I thought venomously.
“Oh…uh…hmm,” I fumbled about for something to say. “I’m…uh, sorry to hear that, then.”
“Anyway,” she brushed my awkwardness aside and continued on. “I’m sure you remember your friend, Drudge.” My eyes narrowed in rage at the memory.
“And?”
“I need you to unshackle dear Drudge from this mortal chain,” she replied. I stared at her for a long moment.
“Eh?” I finally said in surprise. “Unshackle…you mean you want me to kill him?”
“Crudely put, but yes,” the woman rolled her eyes slightly.
“I can’t…mmm,” I began, trying to make sense of the jumble of thoughts cascading through my brain. “I mean, you can’t…grr. I’ve never killed anyone before.”
“Assault with a deadly weapon, 9 counts. Fraud, 13 counts. Heresy, 14 counts,” she read blandly from the book on the table. I scowled, trying to peer around her hand to look as well. “Breaking and entering, 22 counts. Burglary, 31 counts. Impersonating a royal guard, 5 counts. Impersonating a priestess, 9 counts. Battery, 31 counts. Attempted murder, 6 counts. Conspiracy to engage in magical terrorism, 3 counts. Murder, 2 counts.”
“What are you talking about?” I tried to look over her hand.
“Those are the charges leveled against you to date,” she turned the book and showed me the lengthy scroll of words. I grabbed the book and pulled it close, mumbling the words to myself as I read.
“I never did any of these things!” I gasped, horrified.
“According to official records you’ve done all these things,” the woman shrugged. “If I were to hazard a guess you’ve done more the city guard hasn’t found out about. Please focus on the last charges and let’s put our pretend innocence away and pull on our big girl breeches, shall we?”
“You don’t understand! This is a dream! I’m just a history teacher! I’ve never killed anyone!” I insisted. The woman cocked her eyebrow curiously. Her range of emotions seemed to extend from dispassionate sadism to arrogant dismissal all the way to mildly curious. DING! DING! DING! We have a cold ass ice queen award winner here, folks! I thought.
“I’m not going to sugar coat things, half-elf history teacher,” she stared into my eyes, holding me in place with her gaze. “I want that toad dead and you’re my instrument to make that happen. Whatever bizarre fantasies you’ve cooked up in that empty, animalistic brain of yours are of no concern to me. You can pretend to be the queen herself if that’s your kink once Drudge is no longer a potential issue. Am I making myself clear?”
And just how am I supposed to do that? I thought to myself, trying to meet her gaze evenly. I tried to kill a spider in the bathroom once and passed out cold when it scurried toward me. How was I supposed to kill an entire human being? Suddenly the memory of what happened in the dungeon came back to me and I scowled. Was he really a human being, though? No one could do that to someone else and be considered human. I glared at the woman across from me, eyes narrowed.
“Fine. I’ll do it, but- “I began.
“There are no additional caveats,” the woman brushed my words away with a wave of her hand. “Do the job and then we can get started on the real task.” She deposited a few papers on the table and got up to leave. “That’s all of the information on Drudge and your various criminal activity. If you can read it, you’ll have a leg up. If you can’t…well, it should be a good fight at least.”
“I can read,” I muttered angrily under my breath. “Treating me like I’m some damn animal. I’ll treat you like you’re an animal and then you’ll be like some kind of gross animal beast thing or something.”
“Oh,” She paused near the door and turned back. “Your…” her face twisted in disgust for a brief moment, “belongings are in the bag by the window. You’ll need those.” That saying she strode out the door, closing it behind her.
“Is she always like that?” I asked the catgirl as she mopped the blood up from the floor.
“Hmm?” Sayuri looked up at me curiously.
“Is she always a bitch?”
“Oh!” Sayuri nodded vigorously. “Hai.”
“I’ll take her down a peg or ten when I get the chance,” I muttered to myself, taking the papers with me. I made my way toward the large bag by the window, marginally surprised I hadn’t noticed it earlier. I paused once and shook my fist angrily at the door. “You’ll rue the day!” I shouted.
I opened the bag and rifled through the things inside. I pulled out a small hand-held crossbow, a quiver of bolts, a pair of daggers attached to bracers with a retractable chain cable, a set of what appeared to be armor or clothes of some kind, some strange stone knickknacks that looked rather vulgar and finally a ratty, tattered doll that had seen so many better days. I sat cross legged on the floor and put the doll in my lap. It had been hand sewn with as much care and skill as the person doing it could manage and was obviously well-loved. I stared into its eyes for a long moment, feeling the stress fear, and anxiety drain away. “Sayuri?”
“Hmm?” The catgirl replied from where she was cleaning the blood I’d flung onto the wall.
“Who am I?”
“Oh! I know that one!” Sayuri exclaimed brightly, raising her hand as if she were in class. “You’re a dirty half breed animal who would have been better off strangled with its own intestines and left in the garbage!” I stared blankly at the doll for a long moment before shuddering.
“Wow,” I finally managed. “That was…uh…brutally…honest? Thanks?” Sayuri beamed at me proudly. I glanced down at the papers I’d dropped to the ground. Ashvallen Silverbough, the name at the top read. I climbed to my feet easily and padded over to the mirror on the far wall. Who are you, Ashvallen Silverbough?
I stared at the reflection that wasn’t mine with no small amount of shock. Long, unruly silver hair framed my small, delicate face. Deep, haunted amethyst eyes which glowed ever-so-slightly stared back at me under thin dark eyebrows. The dainty mouth with plump lips twitched ever so slightly beneath a tiny pixie nose. My body was lean and lithe with little fat to speak of and currently covered in dried blood. You’re scared, I thought to myself. I raised my thin arms and ran my fingers through my long, thick hair. What did this world do to you?
“Sayuri?” I asked without turning away from the mirror. The catgirl behind me glanced my way, her heterochromatic eyes blinking languidly in the growing darkness. “Can I take a bath?”
“Okie!” Sayuri replied brightly.
“Thanks,” I said before scowling. “You, uh…you might want to brush your teeth after I’m done.”
“Okie!”
Woo...as much as I like My World and You and the sequel, I don't think I can handle this one. Themes where the main character is enslaved/trapped/controlled is emotionally hard to handle to begin with, to say nothing of how beyond evil this countess is. She's fine with guards who rape women on the regular, she's killed dozens of people in brutal torture sessions, and she tortures the MC and enslaves her with threat of further torture+death? I can weather trapped/enslaved scenarios in some stories if it's just a brief situation to build conflict/motivation before the MC frees themselves and carries out a blaze of revenge, but...
I skimmed ahead and it looks like not only is the MC still around this sociopath rape-enabling slaver and hasn't gotten well-deserved brutal revenge, but they're also also having flirty moments or something... Just too stockholmy for me.
Well, you did warn us about it being gritty, so fair enough - I was just surprised, because a story with someone this 'evil' where the MC is kept in slavery to them for the entire (thus far I guess?) story is darker than just about anything I've read on the entire site. To each their own though! It's certainly a change of pace from your other story (unless Aria ends up being waaaaay worse than I expect! lol).
Thank you for your kind comment. When i first began writing Reaver's Song I was aware of the optics behind the story and was especially aware of how people might perceive Minji and her relationship with Carrisyn. As my primary focus on all of my stories is on character I wanted to show a complicated relationship between the two. By the end of the story I wanted a redemption of a sort for Carrisyn. I don't imagine everyone will agree with her reasoning behind what she does and, especially, how she goes about doing it, but I wanted her to have that chance because, as she says, she has someone she'd do anything for. Her anything became cruel and callous and her methods do not excuse her, but I want to believe she can be redeemed.
As for Minji I wanted her to grow. She's been so used to rolling over and playing dead for years I want her to find something to believe in, and I want that something to be her. I want her to go through the crucible and come out the other side aware of her own value.
Now, all that being said, this story is a departure, to be sure, from MWAY and MWWY. As a general rule I don't like weak MCs. I don't like doormat main protagonists who just roll over and take what they're given and, for quite some time, Minji was that MC> She has had her awakening. Her moment to reflect on what she is and who she is and can't go back to how we see her at the start. Now I want to build on that. Build on her and build her up.
While I am sad the story is not to your liking, I completely understand and thank you so much for giving it a try. I know it's not a very pleasant story in many cases and the characters are all very flawed in very real ways (not Kasumi flawed, many of these people are monsters, to be honest.) Thank you for giving it a chance and I hope you enjoy the rest of My Winter With You. I promise Aria won't be nearly as bad as anyone in Reaver's Song!
PS! Sorry I wrote so much! Thank you again!
I want her to go through the crucible and come out the other side aware of her own value
That certainly sounds compelling in Minji's case, and 'villain' redemption stories can be amazing (Once Upon A Time's Regina... Wicked's Elphaba, etc).
I'm still probably too sensitive for the journey, but it sounds good and I wish you the best of luck. I had a similar problem when I was trying to read George RR Martin's books - seeing "through the eyes" of so many awful people over such long chapter segments was just too much for me to slog through before anything gets better. I loved the TV show later on though, since 1.) with TV everything is third-person-perspective (more detached) and 2.) each segment of the story is far briefer than it would be in writing, and thus easier to digest emotionally. I can handle bad stuff as long as it's "at a distance" so to speak, from the character perspective. Trapped/enslaved/drugged/etc themes have just always gotten to me. That's a me-thing though; I guess we've all got stuff we're sensitive to.
So in other words, I'll catch this story when you sell it to a TV studio (good to have ambition right?)
Sorry I wrote so much
Hey, that's probably the kind of occupational hazard an author should embrace!
@lushdust You are not wrong. Like when I wrote Sayuri's side story. It was going to be a quick blurb and fast became a 5 chapter novella. I guess if there's something worth doing, there's something worth over-doing.
Since I suck at self-promotion I'll count myself lucky to sell two copies on Amazon once it's done. Good thing I don't count on writing as a means of income. Otherwise I'd be eating dirt soup with chunks of grass. Thank you so much, though, for giving it a chance. I'll do my best to make My Winter With You a decent novel. Well, decent inasmuch as is possible with things going the way they are at the moment.
Annnd...I've written a short story. Sorry! Thank you again!
@MenchiKatsu please for the love of f*cking god put up a proper content warning for this slavery bullsh*t and yes i am one staring you because my dumb ass will not stop reading low quality torture fetish stuff i unwillingly find until I have had a panic attack from it.
@Lynnadria While I am very sorry the story upset you as it was not my intention, I do not romanticize, condone or fetishize torture or any other derivation thereof at any point in time in the book. In the description of the novel I state the following "a psychopathic mage with a penchant for torture". I felt that, along with the Gore and Sexual Content warnings would act as a sufficient content warning. I'm sorry you wasted your time on my low quality work, and I wish you the best of luck in finding something suitable for your tastes.