He gives me a look, a penetrating look that makes me wish he had penetrated me. Hate fucking is practically the only fucking I ever do. But he doesn’t have sex with me. I don’t know if he even has the parts to have sex with me.
“Think about your position, human. Consider how vulnerable you are, and how dependent you have just become on me. Think about the kind of behavior which might please me, and what human nonsense you should abandon if you hope to ever leave this room.”
“You’re threatening to leave me here to die, that’s it? That’s your big move? You’re gonna put me in a room with no food, or water, or toilet, and think that’s going to end well?”
“There will be food and water as necessary, and you can relieve yourself in the hole in the floor.”
“That hole,” he says, pointing to a hole that wasn’t there before, in the corner of the room.
“That is actually disgusting. This is inhuman. You should let me go, or I promise I’ll make you regret ever having taken me.”
His eyes flash purple and yellow. “Have no fear, human. I already regret that.”
He leaves on that harsh-as-fuck burn.
So here I am trapped in this beige cell, captive to a sparkle color beast who beats me with magic. But I am ready for this battle. Nobody breaks me on the first try. As for having made me come, that doesn’t give him any advantage. If anything it makes me crazier and more dangerous than ever.
I lie down at some point. The floor is sort of mushy, like it’s not certain it wants to be a floor. That does make it more comfortable, and allows me to fall asleep, though I don’t know for how long.
I was tired before I got here. Fighting with Emmet and being thrown out of my apartment was draining enough. I was so worried about what was going to happen to all my stuff. Now I’m wondering how they made me disappear in the middle of the street without setting off a worldwide panic. I know some people were filming us fighting for the Gram.
There’s this feeling floating about in my body that none of it matters. It’s not relevant anymore. Whatever happened before I was sucked off my planet doesn’t matter. What matters is what happens next.
I fall asleep, and then I wake up. Business as usual, baby.
I also make a decision. Next time he returns, I’m going to be ready for him. I’m going to kick his ass. When he comes back, I’m going to jump him and just fuck him up, or die trying.
It does feel a little futile, but I have to show him that magic bindings and unseen punishments won’t stop me, nor will leaving me in a beige sort of void room.
I practice a little shadowboxing. I took a few boxing lessons at a gym once when I decided I was going to become really fit. Becoming really fit didn’t happen, but learning how effective an elbow is might come in handy finally. Might knock that smug expression off his sexy alien face.
What I don’t notice as I kick and punch and curse him under my breath, is that I am no longer alone. I swirl around, aim a kick about knee high, which doesn’t look as good as a head kick, but can be a lot more screamy and maim-ey.
He is standing there. All fuck knows how many feet of him, looking at me with his shark fin head and his scaled body and his gleaming, glowing eyes. He should look stupid. But he doesn’t. He looks intimidating even though he looks like he has been painted with all the colors of an LSD trip. I might be the one who looks slightly stupid, but I’m okay with that. You have to be good with that if you’re going to be me.
He cocks his head to the side, as if he is trying to understand what he is seeing. “What are you doing, human?”
“Practicing beating you up.”
“Ah. Well. It may interest you to know that you are the most feeble of creatures, and that there is absolutely no way for you to harm me with any part of your body.”
“I guess we’ll see about that.”
“Would you like to attack me now, then? I could punish you harshly thereafter, and you could come to once more regret your arrogance.”
When he says it that way, it doesn’t sound like a good idea.
“I’m not going to attack you now, when you’re expecting it. I’ll do it when you’re not expecting it.”
“But now I know to expect it.”
And that’s when I attack him. Right when he’s expecting and yet not expecting, but very much expecting it.
He wasn’t wrong. I punch and I kick and I hiiiiyyaa, and it does nothing. He doesn’t even move or try to stop me. He just stands there while I flail against him, making absolutely no impression on him whatsoever.