"You cheated Me..." (Open)

[bix]

Hope
&& Understanding

He sighed. And appologized. Saying that she. Liberty. Was not a monster. Her eyes. Watched him. Guarded slightly. Against him. He could not realize. How much. She hated. To think of herself. As a monster. But it seemed. That so many times. She was labeled as such. Her father. Hated her. Her mother. Was afraid. Her brothers. Were afraid. To be aorund her. For fear. That whatever. Made her a target. To their father. Would then. Turn to them. She was shocked. that he appolgoized to her. And it didn't. Seem like he had to. But that. He wanted to. Which of course. made it actually. Mean something. And made it more. Than just something. He said. To placate her. Temporarily.

"Thank you."

He stated then. That if she did. Happen to release him. That he would take her home. Tomorrow. And then. He would leave. And they. Would likely. Never see. One another again. Her eyes widened. It was. As she feared. She would not. See him again. And that. Was the only reason. She wanted. Someone. To be close to. Pine. Was sweet. and she was. Attracted to him. But it never hurt. To have more. Than one. And it never hurt. To use. what she was given. Which in this case. Was Jeremiah. A large man. That acted tougher. Than he probably was. Because she knew that facade. All too well. She was much the same. When she was not. Liberty. When she was Bix. She looked up though. At his question. And she smiled. Actual interest.

"Here. I am Liberty. The name. I was given when born. But.. out there... " she pointed. To the windows. "Bix, is what I go by. You'll.. probably understand why. If we ever are in public together."

She watched. As he cooked. And leaned over. Her finger tip. Traced. Thelines. Of one of his. Tattooes. Watching it. Curious about it. She had. Wanted one. She had no idea. Why. She was anal. About her skin. And the care for it. That was why. When he felt her fingers. And her hand now. She was soft. Her skin. Like silk. Or velvet. Very gentle. To the touch. And normally. She would not. Think of a tattoo. But she found. They were often. Quite beautiful. And to decorate. her skin. Seemed. Almost a given.

"I have thought, about getting one of these, you know." she said softly. Her fingers pulled back. Gently. Finished. tracing. The slightly raised lines. On his arm. "Do these have any meanings?"

[Jeremiah Sykes]

He glanced to her as she moved, almost laughing at her for what she said. It was obvious she didnt understand the severity of what he told her. IF they went into public together? There would rarely be a time when they werent together. He didnt flinch when she touched his arm, tracing over his body markings. He didnt feel like answering, but didnt really have a choice-so he went for the simplest answer possible.

"Yeah they all have a symbolic reason for being there- I wouldnt put one on my body unless it meant something." His voice was the non commital, it was obvious that he wasnt commiting to her anything more then what he was forced to. He knew she didnt want to seem like a slaver, but it was obvious, through what he said, that thats what she was. She had the power to release him, and didnt, and therefore she was a slaver. He couldnt blame her- who would turn down a large mountain of muscle that would bow and scrape to your every whim? He cleared his throat a little, going quiet after his slightly short response. He moved the food over to the counter with his bare hands, the sudden burning sensation that would normally accompany a person doing nothing to him.

He took out plates and dished them each food, placing them on the table and taking a seat, picking up his fork, his mood going downhill a little after realizing that, once again, he was without his alcohol. He was stubborn, though, and wouldnt be going out to buy another one.

Once a day was his commitment. He could deal with that.

[bix]

Despair
Hard Times

She felt. As though. She would never get ahead. there was a soft. Dejected sigh. That came out. Of the soft lips. Of the woman. She couldn't help. But she wanted to. Have a friend. If only he knew. Why she didn't release him. If only he understood. Why she wanted. To keep him close. It was not. For protection. It was for. Herself. Bix looked at her lap. Tears welling. In her soft eyes. She did not. Want Bix to come out. It would ruin. Everything. And yet. She could feel. The protective entity. Rising up within her. ~Let me handle this~ No! Stay out of it. He is mine! ~No he is ours~ No.. I need him. ~ You merely need me, and I am always here~

The food was done. Soon. And she looked up. As he made a plate. For her. She took it gently. In her pale hands. And watched. As he turned silently. And went to the table. Sliding off the countertop. She plopped down. Just gently. Going over to the table. Where he was already eating. She sat down. Scooting the seat out. Sitting beside him. Putting her plate gently. Taking her napkin. It went gently. Into her lap. And she picked up. The fork that. He had provided her. She leaned in just slightly. And took a bite. It was.. delicious. Swallowing she gave a weak smile.

"It.. it's delicious, Jeremiah. Thank you."

Her eyes. Warily. Looked up at him. And then. Back to her food. She took another bite. Bix normally. Didn't eat. That much. But Pine had told her. To put on some weight. She would be. More attractive. And so. Recently. She had been trying. To eat more. To fill out a bit more. And to become more. Attractive to the interest. She had chosen. The food was good. And thick. She couldn't remember. having a home cooked meal. In a very long time. Making her eat. almost as though. She were starving. And in a way. She was. With her home situation. She didn't go downstairs. She did not eat. With her family. So she usually. Just ate. A granola bar. Or something. For dinner. So she was. Quite starved. In a way.

"Thank you.. once more, saving me, you didn't have to and I.. wanted to thank you...."

[Jeremiah Sykes]

"Mmmhmm."

A short response to her gratitude was all she recieved, his plate full of food seeming to get smaller by the minute. He was a large individual, and would have to eat at least two more plates to be comfortably full. He finished the first in short order as she sat next to him, the male getting up and walking to the counter, picking up each plate of food and bringing it to the table so he wouldnt have to get up again. Hs re-dished his plate, hoping that he could at least have a few moments of silence while he ate....but alas, he was not to be so. She thanked him for rescuing her, his eyes sliding over to hers as she stated that he didnt have to save her and that she was thankful.

"Actually i did."

H wasnt trying to be something he wasnt- he was a prick ninety percent of the time, and was honest in most cases. Telling her that he did, in fact, have to save her, was just another truth. He didnt need to tell her that he did, but hell, what did he care about how she felt? The power within himself didnt demand that he be nice to her, it just demanded that he not directly attack her feelings regarding the slave issue. He turned his gaze back to his plate, digging into his second helping within ten minutes. His pocket vibrated, and he leaned back, chewing as he pulled out his cell. A simple flip phone, nothing fancy. He placed it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"You have a service to finish up Jeremiah Sykes."

He didnt reply, instead just shutting the phone. He had been getting a lot of those calls lately- seemed that everyone wanted his services. He didnt have anything left to finish up- he never left a service unfinished. They were just bitch boys, trying to command him to cater to thier masters call.

Let them come make him.

He returned his attention to the meal, speaking matter-of factly.

"Theres gonna be a fight tonight. Stay in the back room when you hear the doorbell ring and don't come out until i tell you."

Was it all so simple?

Not when the men had guns.

[bix]

Confused
Dismay

Sure he did. Have to save her. Somehow she figured. That it had to do. With this whole. Dark maiden crap. She looked over at him. He didn't seem to care. But then. Why would he? Afterall. he barely knew her. And somehow. By having a stupid nickname. she had him in her power. But when he had told her. That by releasing him. She would be sent home tomorrow. And never again. Would they converse. She was afraid for that. Because. Liberty desperatly. Wanted someone. She wanted someone to be close to. To understand her. To give her a shot. and make her feel. nearly human.

Another soft sigh. Came from her lungs. Taking another plate. Of the tasty stew. that he had. created for them. She ate it quickly. Knowing that. She was likely only making him. Uncomfortable. She hated to though. Because she wished. That she could. Have him be around her. And enjoy it. Have him smile. Because they were friends. Or perhaps even. confide in her somehow. But she doubted. Anyone. Would ever care. About her that much. She was strange. Odd. And no one. Wanted her. It was never. More apparent. Than when her 'slave'. Didn't want her around.

At that last thought. She rose. Saying nothing. She went and washed her dish. Wanting not. To be a burden. Washing it. She placed it. Within the dishwasher. Before she turned to him. He told her. That tonight. There would be a fight. And she, was to stay. In her room.

"Ah, of course, can't let me be seen."

Liberty. Bit her lower lip. And she came out. Of the kitchen again. Her sadened blue eyes. Looked over at him. A sigh again escaped her. She couldn't help. But feel. A failure as a person. But it wasn't. As though she could change it.

"I'll go check, on the laundry. And be in my room, as told."

With a bow. She turned. And headed. To the bathroom. The washing machine. Was done. And she switched the clothing. To the dryer. Pushing the start button. She went then. To her room. Sitting in. The center of her bed. She gathered her bag. Close to her. And she pulled out. Some of her witchcraft books. And began to research. She wished to. Protect her .. 'charge'. If you will. Already, she was memorizing. The gram she needed. The glyphs to include. As well as. The amount of her blood. Needed. As she didn't have other blood. With her today.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

'Good, makes my job easier.'

That was the only thought he had to her letting him know she would be in her room. He heard the doorbell ring, but instead of waiting as the other boys had, these individuals kicked the door in, rushing around him with guns everywhere, lazers and eyes on him as he sat at his table, looking a little to the left and sighing inwardly. 'When will these fucks learn....?' He stood suddenly, kicking the chair up and into the face of the man standing behind him. He went left, grabbed the gun that was in his face and spun around the body as the rest realized what was happening and open fired.

Several tranquilizers slammed into the body of the man Jeremiah was holding. What were the chances that they would all fire thier one shot and miss him?

Obviously pretty good.

Abandoning thier empty funs, they all attacked. Jeremiah, who wasnt the type to just kill someone for no reason, began his motions, finishing his work quickly as he was taught. He grabbed the head of the man he held with his right hand, pushing down and to the left with it as he kicked the fellows feet out from under him. His head went slamming into the side of the table, the full body gear helping to bring the weight-layden body to the floor with a quickness. The second man charged in as two of the retrievers went to the back room, knives drawn, looking for the girl they had seen entering the house with The Tank, They would kick down the door that the girl was in and charge her, aiming to drag out the strange girl and use her against him.

Jeremiah, meanwhile, shot up his left hand, placing the barrel of the gun the guy he had knocked out was holding to the thigh of the one charging him, pulling the trigger. Not only would the guy stumble because of the sudden sleep he would feel taking over his system, but also because the dart imbedded halfway through his leg at such close range. Jeremy was grabbed by the final man by the front of his shirt. He responded by grabbing the front of the assailants gear pack and running him into a wall. As the wind was knocked from his opponent and he began to fell, his knee would come up into his gut, then a right cross to the face would send the man sprawling.

Funny....wasnt there more of them then this?

[bix]

BAM
..the hell?...

Bix was in the middle. Of tracing. A glyph with her finger. The door bell had rung. Some moments ago. But she felt. As though. It was best. to stay here. At least here. He could forget about her. And the pact. They had made. And he could. Go one. without her. moving past her. And moving on. At least for now. She figured. That being in her room. Would only. Allow him to just. Enjoy his time. Until the morning. When she came out. Once more. And he remembered. His living nightmare.

But tracing the glyph. Her fingers. Memorizing the movements. The way. That it needed to be done. The way to begin. And end. So that nothing. Was compromised. BAM!! The door flew. Off it's hinges. Bix's eyes went wide. And then blank. Liberty. Obviously. Was scared shit less. But Bix was strong. And nothing. Phased her. Death was only. Another realm of life. And if it was time. She would certainly accept. And meet it head on. With no real. Resistance. Two men. Came into the room. Rushing her on the bed. Bix sat there. As though there were not. Two strange men rushing her. She was already. Used to being roughhoused.

They grabbed her arm. And h oisted her up. Off the bed. Dragging her down the hall. Though she walked. As fast as she could. It was not. Fast enough. For those. That she was with. She tripped often. Only to be hoisted. Painfully. By her upper arm. And then tossed. Upon the floor. Of the living room. On her knees. Her head wrenched back. Behind her. So that her neck. Was fully exposed. A knife. Poked her skin. And she grinned.

"All mother of holy darkness... beseech to you, comes I the one of Bix. Daughter of darkness, ..."

"SHUT UP YOU STUPID BITCH!" they screamed clocking her on the side of the head.

".. allow to me, your powers upon. Bring the darkness within, fill my soul with the aura to taketh down thine enemy."

[Jeremiah Sykes]

As previous mentioned, Jeremiah doesnt like to take life, if he can help it, unless in protection of the one he has been sworn to. When he turned and saw the blade pressed against her neck, it was like a trigger being pulled- the restraint he held snapped as though there was no tension on it. He bent and grabbed a blade from the waist of his downed enemy and, as he withdrew it, flipped it forward, the blade embedding deep, deep into the skull of the man who held the knife, his hand going limp as he dropped backward. The other man turned his head in relex, looking at his fallen comrade as the body went down in a heap. He turned back to Jeremiah, mind racing-

Jeremy twisted the gun from the mans grip, shock and surprise registering on his face. How had he gotten to him so quickly? The barrel of his own gun was placed under his chin, and the last thing he felt in this life was the terrible pain of a tranquilizer dart piercing the soft flesh under his chin, tearing through his tongue, and slamming through the roof of his mouth and piercing his brain, doing its duty by releasing the liquid into the lifeless body. Jeremiah turned quickly and slammed his foot down on the back of the unconsious mans neck- his friend forfieted thier own life by revelaing thier intent. He breathed heavily, looking down at Bix, a small cut on his arm where a stray peice of glass hit him when he slammed the other man into the wall.

"Stand up and get your things, we're leaving."

He was taking her to his second place, an apartment.

The only place he felt sure she would be safe. Why?

Because it was surrounded by police who happened to live there.

Police on his payroll.

[bix]

Disturbed
Spell Canceled

It was fast. Active. And fast. It seemed that one moment. The cold steel. Of a blade. Was against her neck. And seconds later. They weren't. Both of them. WEre on the ground now. Dead. Or dying in the very least. Was this place safe. Could they even stay here? For a while. Was it alright to .. sleep here? Slumber she believed. Would not really come. Unless they were able. To actually. Feel safe. And she would not. Feel safe. Not here if. This was going to happen. Afterall. Who were these people. It really did not. Make any sense. What so ever. He looked at her. Telling her. No ordering her. To get her things. They were leaving.

Going where?

Nodding quickly. Bix got up. And moved. Towards her room. To gather up her books. Shoving them all. In her bag. She came back out quickly and took his hand. She was not sure. Where exactly they. Were going. But she figured. That she didn't have a choice. A gasp. Left her. As she let go of his hand. and rushed back. To the bathroom. Grabbing her laundry from it. So she had. Something to wear. Tomorrow. She came back out. And took his hand again. giving a quiet nod. Afterall, she was not. quite ready to speak just yet. The whole thing. Still had her somewhat. Shaken up. But she doubted. He had ever realized. She had enver screamed. Never begged. She had been strong. Even when she was. Being threatened.

As they left. She clung to his hand. A bit afraid. Of being attacked again. But the other part of her. Was strong. And knew. they would last again. they could make it. through anything. If given the chance.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremy sniffed a little as the girl went back into the back. He went to his stash of money, scooping it all into a dufflebag along with his clothes, which he had grabbed a second or two before. He tossed it down by the door, then took her back and swept the money he had given her off the counter, dropping it inside. He led her out to his bike, swinging a leg over and firing the speed demon up, swinging the coat he grabbed off the couch around his back and pulling it on. He was glad he heard no questions- Jeremiah wasnt a man who was fond of questions. He swung his bag of his shoulder, then began backing out once the female would hop aboard. He pulled up his leg and sped off, heading straight down the street for several blocks.

He took a left turn, then a right, then passed through the downtown area of the city, weaving in and out of cars (illegally) on his way to his other place. A few moments later he pulled into a complex where nearly every spot was taken up by a cop car. This part of the city was the same as the other, except worse- women stood out on corners and drunk or drugged men were everywhere. He pulled into an open spot, killing the engine and throwing down the kickstand. After she got off he would start walking toward the stairs, flicking is eyes over the man slumped against a wall. As h passed the man, the guy stood and suddenly launched out a hand, aiming for the elbow of the female trailing him.

"Hey pretty girl, stop and talk with- AHHHHHGH!"

He screamed as his hand was crushed and torn away from the arm of Bix, Jeremiah looking down with a cold look at the man. He released the broken hand, the man falling back and holding his hand, wimpering. Jeremy turned around, placing his hand at the small of Bix' back and leading her up the stairs, grabbing the first door they came to. He punched in a small key-code (rather hi-tech for a rundown apartment, but he had the money for it.) and popping open the steel plated, bullet proof door, making sure Bix went inside first. He dropped his bag on the couch and took a deep breath, his adrenaline gone and leaving him with a sort of energy drain. He bolted the door, then turned to Bix.

"Bedtime." He walked towards the hallway, pointing at the first door to his right. "Your room." He kept walking, taking the next door on the right and opening it, heading inside and taking off his shirt without much further ado, ready for the warm bed that waited for him.

[bix]

Creepy!
Lonely

He wasted. No time. He led her down. To the bike. They had come on. Carrying both. Their bags. But there was no way. She could. Ride on the back. With him. Wearing the bags. On his back. So when he waited. For her to get on. She slid her leg. Over the front of the bike. And sat there. Letting him. And his body. Protect her. The wind. Would be much more. Powerful here. But still. She was glad. That he. Was taking her. He could have. Very well. Have just left her. There. Not sure. How to get home. She would already. Be beaten. Mercilessly. When she got home. For missing. A whole night. But. She did not. Want to go home. And besides. She doubted. Jeremiah. In all his protection. Would allow her to.

The bike. Roared to life. Underneath her. And she clung. To the handlebars. With white knuckles. They were off. And into the city. But their ride. Was not that. Long lived. Soon after. They pulled. Into an apartment. Building. That was surrounded. By cop cars. She might have thought. That it was. Some kind of drug bust. Had it not. Been for the fact. That no one had. Their lights on. They must. Live here. She had never known. They all lived. In the same place. She supposed. That was good. and bad. At the same time. Still though. She got off the bike. when it stopped. And waited for him. Her fingers. Holding on. to the flesh of his coat. On the loose sleeve. As she walked. With him. this place. Was even creepier. For her. Than the last. despite the. Police cars everywhere.

He began. To lead her. To the door. When one of the creepies. Got up. And began mumbling. Something about. Pretty girl. He must be drunk. To think Bix was. Pretty. She wasn't. At least. Not in her mind. But she had. No reason. To think so. Pine had told her. She'd be attrative. If she. Gained weight. But that was. Only if. So that meant. She was not. Attractive now. Regardless. Jeremiah, put an end. to the man. quickly. Breaking his hand. For even touching Bix. This protection thing. Could be scary. Sometimes. His hand. Touched the soft small. Of her back. And he led her. Into the building. Bix was taking. Everything in. That she could. Her eyes wild. With the building's decor. Which was .. not much.

A key pad. And an entry code. later and Bix. Was shown. A new apartment. Much like the home. She had just. Been in. But somehow. She felt even more. Fearful here. Than before. Swallowing hard. Jeremiah put. their bags down. And said. That it was bed time. On the way. Down the hall. He pointed. To the room. And told her. It was hers. And then disappeared. Into another door. Bix sighed. Left alone. Standing in. the living room. She was frightened. Unlike she had been. Before. Normally. She wasn't this kind. Of girl. But for some reason. this place. Made her very. Afraid. Perhaps. There was a lot of blood. Spilled. A great deal of violence. Going over. To her bag. She pulled out. The wet clothes. And went in search. Of the laundry. Finding it. She put the clothing. In the dryer. And started it. So it would be ready. In the morning.

Moving. To her room. It was boring. No paint. Just a bed. And a dresser. Laying on the bed. Bix spent the next hour. Staring. Up at the ceiling. Unable. To fall asleep. Every sound. That she heard. Startled her. She felt. As though. She was being watched. Getting up after. Giving up. She crossed to the door. And tiptoed. Through the hall. To his door. She could hear. HIm snoring. On the other side. and she smiled. Opening the door. As quietly as possible. she stepped in side. Only to see him. Jolt up. gun in hand. POinted at her.

"It's me." she whispered.

When the gun. Was lowered. She came to the bed. And climbed up. On top of it. Sighing softly. As she lay down. Feeling the look. She was getting.

"I.. I am frightened, might I.. sleep here with you?" she asked softly. Pleading for him. To say yes.

And when he did. Bix wasted no time. She did not. Let him. Turn his back. to her. She snuggled. Right up. Into his chest. She felt. Better. Safer now. And her eyes closed. Falling asleep. Gently. Against him. And in his arms. Her pale skin. Seemed to almost glow. In the dark room.

In the morning. When he woke. He would see. Her pale shoulder. Had poked through. The shirt. That was. Too big for her. And there. Was an angry. Dark. Ugly bruise. Upon her pale skin. It was not. From the day before. It had been there. For at least. Two days. Someone. Was hurting Bix.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah stirred, opening his eyes to see the hair of the female in bed next to him. His arm was over her protectively, though he hadnt done that consciously. It was his damn demon- controlling him again, mocking him. He rolled onto his back, grunting as he sat up. He remembered when she came in last night, the constant thought he had when she asked if she could lay with him... 'no, no, no,no' But sure enough the words "Yeah, i guess so" Seemed to just pop out without his ability to stop it. He had ground his teeth for an hour before falling asleep, and when he did it was fitful, clogged with images of the girl beside him getting beat on. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing a little. He moved himself to the end of his bed, then stood, turning and looking over at the girl as she lay there.

He froze.

A bruise? When did that happen? He never hurt her, and nobody ever touched her enough to do it. He would most definitely find that shit out, one way or another, and the mother fucker who did it would be in pain. Lots of it. He cleared his throat loudly, hopefully waking her up. He wouldnt look at her, instead looking out the window as he spoke.

"Cmon, school will be starting soon."