Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I would never dream of taking credit for them. They belong to Mutant Enemy and all their big guys and the Great-And-Powerful Whedon of Joss or some such nonsense.
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I’ve been with her since she was young. A Christmas gift, received to gleeful shouts of Thank you Thank you Thank you Mummy and Daddy. She was so sweet, the way she played, tea parties and fancy dress balls and masquerades and such. I was always her favourite, the one she took to bed with her, the one she whispered to until she fell asleep. My little mistress.
She’s always had the sight. She’d crawl into the dollhouse and whisper their secrets to me and make me swear to never ever ever ever tell. All the games we played, such a happy girl, so loving and obedient, such a joy to everyone. Pure. She accepted her visions as a gift from God and decided to enter into His holy service, to use them for His work. I watched her grow and study and pray, always steadfast, always certain. My little mistress.
I was there when he killed her father. And her mother. Her brother. And sister. One by one, picked off by that madman, till there was nothing left of my beautiful’s mind but memories and visions. I was there that day, the day he finally took her, brutal and savage. She never cried, I don’t believe she would have known why if she did. He stripped her of everything sacred, first chastity, then life, then soul. I watched as my lovely was transformed into the thing I’ve come to despise. Her first kill, two gorgeous babes, she not much further from the womb than they were. I watched those delicate hands that had so often brushed my hair and smoothed my dress rip into them like animal claws. How I wanted to block it all out, close my eyes and make it go away. My little mistress.
I watched as they danced in the pool of innocent blood, rejoicing in their kill, relishing each childish whimper and cry. I watched down through the years, I always watched, always saw. New lovers and new places and always the shed of blood. Always the unspeakable violence. And still she talked to me. Now horrible visions, horrible secrets, no more the sweetness of my precious. I bore witness to it all. Even when she blindfolded me, when I was naughty and not allowed, when I was punished for being stubborn and uncooperative and speaking out of turn, I could still hear it. My little mistress.
So now I sit where she left me, blind to the world I once thought so beautiful. She knows now, could hear me crying, mourning her But I’m here my sweet No It’s not you It hasn’t been for ages It never will be again. Here I sit as she goes off to more death, more destruction, here I sit and wait for some young girl to find me and restore my faith in the innocence I’ve seen so recklessly corrupted. Here I sit, waiting. My little mistress.
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