Chapter 11 Journal Entry 2 The Bug

Journal Entry 2: The Bug

His eyes weigh heavier on me than a sack of rocks; he has the ability to pin me down in a construct of his mental design. He opens me up and delves in, raping the inner most sanctums of my very soul.

He finds delight in it-he finds a sense of relief in the mental torment he is able to bestow upon me. It brings him a relief from his own pain, which he locks deep within the core of his being.

The unfeeling creature he claims to be is only a lie.

His cruelty brings him relief from the inner monsters that fester within him. I know he desires to tear me apart, wanting to draw lines across my body with my own blood, wanting to feel my life's light slip into darkness at his will. But his hands are stayed by the persuasions of Jarlaxle. I know this.

Even as much as I am an asset to him I am also a threat. I am a nuisance in his life, a pesky bug that needs to be stamped out underfoot, but for someone like Kimmuriel, that would not be enough, no, if I were a bug, he would start by trapping me in a cage of suffocating design. He'd allow a little air in, snapping off the lid and watching me struggle with the waning oxygen levels. Only to bring me to a point of near unconsciousness before cracking the lid to allow just enough air in to keep me alive-to keep me aware.

Then he would start with my legs, plucking each one slowly and deliberately, and observing my reactions and my movements each time with one less leg, until finally all six were gone. He would not stop there; he would not kill me yet, because my torture would not be satisfying enough for him. He would keep me alive, feeding me, forcing me to continue living when I had long lost my will to live; that is the way he likes his victims most- without their will.

Kimmuriel would force me to endure until he decides when my bug life should end. The ending would be the most brutal-the most disturbing, the ending would be his climax. Only then would he be satisfied in a way most people find satisfaction in a session of heated lovemaking.

The brutality of my bug death would be an ultimate release of his built up torment. The tension, the desire to kill builds up in Kimmuriel in such explosive proportions that when he finally does kill his victim, all that tension, all the hatred, just vanishes-but only for a short time before the need returns again.

Kimmuriel is God-like in his ability to control a life as well as the pain and suffering he inflicts on that life. Since he must keep me alive he desires only to turn me into a complacent puppet, a mere plaything for his desires. If I were the bug, I'd have it easier.

I am alive and to be kept alive which in itself is a curse as Kimmuriel will not be satisfied with my training and development until I am as dead inside as he is. I refuse to let him win…

However still, this puppet wishes she were

a bug…