Sunday, 17 October 2010
01:43:53 PM (GMT)
Slam. Swipe. Pound.
Castle Oblivion had quickly turned from the headquarters of the traitors to Shexia's
personal hell. She didn't know exactly how it had began anymore, all she knew was
that she had become Larxene's personal stress reliever. The Nobody grew kinder
towards Naminé as a result, knowing she recieved the same treatment.
Musing over this while she was being beaten, however, failed to take her mind out of
the battered body. Shexia had long since stopped fighting back, and never even
reached for her arrows. She just stood or lay there, like a corpse, and let it all
happen. Larxene often sneered before leaving Shexia at how easy she was to break. At
how pathetic she was.
Oh, heaven knew some noticed.
Heaven knew some asked.
Shexia always responded in the same way; grin or laugh, and say the Heartless who did
it came off worse in the end of the fight. Stick to the act, and it wouldn't get
worse. Not that it could get any worse than it already was, she had tried to
reason with herself when she considered telling someone. Yet there was always that
voice in the back of her mind that said the treatment would worsen. It wouldn't be
death - that would be too kind of Larxene. But life would descend into the darker
depths of hell for her if she told - that was certain.
The worst part, for Shexia, though, was not the pain and humiliation of the abuse,
nor was it the lying about her disfiguring scars. No, it was the knowledge that
Larxene was right when she called her pathetic - she was. Pathetically broken.
Last edited: 17 October 2010