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Entry tags:
House Of Wolves
"Christ is comin'
and so am I"
She schemes of growing power and the lengths sucked hard to get it
I dream of being God but ever living to regret it
Our fecund nature decrees that Jesus wept come for
The Devil on Her knees
Genja appeared at the cell door and looked in. Layla was in the corner, facing the wall, her forehead pressed into the corner itself. He opened the door and entered, walking over to her. Crouching, he brushed her hair from her shoulders. "Layla?" he said quietly. She closed her eyes and whimpered. "Come," he said, gripping her arm and lifting her to her feet. He could see that movement was difficult for her and he put his hands on her hips to keep her steady. He took a step back, pulling her forward. "Here," he said, stepping closer to her, "let me help you." She shook her head, her eyes on the floor. "I'm all right," she said. He looked her over and frowned. "You're a bad liar."
To anyone watching, or who had been watching over the past few nights, his demeanor was much different than it had been. He wasn't revelling in her pain as much as usual. He lifted her over his shoulder and carried her out. It was the only way he could carry her without causing even more stress on her already broken body.
Outside of his chambers, he stood her on her feet. Still, she kept her eyes downcast. How easily she'd been broken, he found himself thinking. He'd barely put any effort into it and already she was merely a shell of the woman she had been. "I was wrong about you," he said suddenly. "I fully expected you to have been well used, but the tightness of your body tells a different story. Guess you haven't made your way around the block as much as I had ascertained." He fingered her hair, moving his attention the locks in his hand. "We'll have to do something about your hair color." Releasing her hair, he stepped around her and opened his bedroom door. "Remember what I was saying about perks?" he asked. She nodded. He took her arm and led her into his room.
The side table had been moved and the two chairs sat on either side of it, facing each other. Layla smelled the food before she saw it and looked up. He led her to one of the chairs and sat her down. Leaning forward, his eyes lingered on hers. "You've been a very good girl," he whispered. She closed her eyes briefly. Yes, she had been, but what had it cost her? He straightened and walked to the other chair, sitting across from her. He leaned back, one leg straightened out before him, the other knee bent. He leaned back in the chair, almost slouching, arms resting on the arms of the chair; his posture relaxed. "It's not filet mignon or anything like that.. but it's not the slop they're feeding you."
On the plate before her was lamb, after all, this was Scotland and one thing Scotland has in abundance is sheep. There were also steamed vegetables, bread, cheese and a glass of claret. Genja often needed to remind himself that mortals didn't have the recuperative powers of his kind and he had to keep her strength up. She simply sat there staring down at the plate. "Eat," he said and she practically dove into the food before her. Never did his eyes leave her and not a word did either of them speak. He knew she hadn't been eating. Hell, half the time she wasn't even conscious when the humans were fed. He had decided that she couldn't afford to lose any more weight. He simply didn't find it attractive.
When she finished, he walked over and picked up the tray, carrying it out of the room and setting it outside the door for one of the ghouls to take care of. "Better?" he asked as he returned to her side. She nodded. "I know it wasn't much, but you have to get used to it before the portions can be increased." He held his hand out to her. "Come, I have something else for you." She looked up at him as she took his hand and stood. He actually smiled encouragingly at her. Layla couldn't explain it, but his mood tonight was inherently more terrifying than any she'd witnessed so far.
He led her out into the hall and to another chamber. The room itself was almost as large as his and in the center sat a wooden tub fill with steaming water. Layla's eyes widened in shock and she looked at Genja questioningly. "How?" she asked. He walked over and sat on the stool next to the tub. He laid his arm on the tub's edge and reached over with his other hand, dipping his finger into the water and swirling it. "This is a castle," he explained. "And the thing about castles is that they're built to withstand months long sieges." He looked up at her. "Take your clothes off and get in." He continued to speak as she did what she was told.
"Castles are also built to house and feed large numbers of people and to be self-contained. We have wells independent of any outside water source, very large hearths on which to cook feasts for parties numbering in the hundreds, salting shacks for the preservation of meats and other foods, stables, gardens among many other amenities, not to mention the castle's defensive features." His eyes devoured her as she undressed and settled into the water. "The Queen has finally received word. Edinburgh isn't the only city thus afflicted." He moved to her side and took the soap and washcloth from her. He rubbed the soap into the cloth until it had a nice, thick lather and placed the soap on the floor next to him. Crouching beside the tub, he began washing her, slowly and thoroughly. "The world has changed, Layla, and with it, the mortals place within it. Humans are nothing more than slaves now . Over the next few days and nights, gardens will be planted, animals.. of the four legged variety.. will be herded. The Queen will be implementing a very dark ages like castle schedule and itinerary. Men will be trained for combat, the ghouls and mortals will be fed on a regular basis, food more fitting to keep them fit and useful. The laws have changed and we now live under a monarchy... a real monarchy, not just some figure head title meant to bolster the people's national pride. Things are going to become much, much more brutal."
"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked. He stopped and dropped the washcloth into the water. "Because you need to understand your place. You need to understand the situation. This isn't temporary, Layla. This is your life now. And the sooner you adjust to it, the sooner you stop holding on to the hope that one night you'll wake up and the world will be what you're used to again, the better off you'll be. The sooner you realize how fortunate you are to have incurred my favor, the more pleasant life will be for you. Now, wash your hair." He resumed his seat on the stool and watched her. He liked his women clean and he would have them that way.
When she had finished, he stood, a towel draped over his arm and another towel in his hands which he held open for her. She stepped out of the tub and he stepped towards her, wrapping the towel around her body. Then he did something he hadn't done before. He kissed her. When Layla didn't respond, Genja's eyes hardened, his gaze boring into her. "I'm being nice, now, Layla. But if you prefer..." Layla felt the panic rising within her. "No.." she said, stepping closer to him and raising her chin. He kissed her again, and this time she responded as if she lived and died by his affection. Yes, he thought again, she had been so easily broken.
He handed her the second towel for her hair and walked over to an antique vanity. He picked up a bottle and brought it over to her. Unscrewing the cap, he held it under her nose. "Smell," he said and she did. "Lavendar?" she asked. He nodded. "Not perfume, oil. I prefer it to rose. Rose is.. overdone." He tilted the bottle against his finger and rubbed his finger behind each of her ears. Repeating the action, he rubbed his finger in the hollow of her throat and between her breasts, then he handed the bottle to her. "The backs of your knees," he said. She did as he was told and handed the bottle back to him. He stepped forward and pressed his nose against her throat, inhaling the scent. Stepping back, he nodded approvingly.
"You belong to me. The humans are to be branded with the Royal Seal. However, you will be branded with mine. From now on, you will call me Genja, but never in the presence of others." He took her face in his hands. "Now, say my name and tell me you love me," he demanded.
Layla swallowed, hard and looked into his eyes. I love you.. the hardest words she'd ever written or said even when she meant them and now she had to lie outright. She wasn't sure she could, but then she thought of the consequences and suddenly they didn't seem so difficult anymore.
"I love you.. Genja."
and so am I"
She schemes of growing power and the lengths sucked hard to get it
I dream of being God but ever living to regret it
Our fecund nature decrees that Jesus wept come for
The Devil on Her knees
Genja appeared at the cell door and looked in. Layla was in the corner, facing the wall, her forehead pressed into the corner itself. He opened the door and entered, walking over to her. Crouching, he brushed her hair from her shoulders. "Layla?" he said quietly. She closed her eyes and whimpered. "Come," he said, gripping her arm and lifting her to her feet. He could see that movement was difficult for her and he put his hands on her hips to keep her steady. He took a step back, pulling her forward. "Here," he said, stepping closer to her, "let me help you." She shook her head, her eyes on the floor. "I'm all right," she said. He looked her over and frowned. "You're a bad liar."
To anyone watching, or who had been watching over the past few nights, his demeanor was much different than it had been. He wasn't revelling in her pain as much as usual. He lifted her over his shoulder and carried her out. It was the only way he could carry her without causing even more stress on her already broken body.
Outside of his chambers, he stood her on her feet. Still, she kept her eyes downcast. How easily she'd been broken, he found himself thinking. He'd barely put any effort into it and already she was merely a shell of the woman she had been. "I was wrong about you," he said suddenly. "I fully expected you to have been well used, but the tightness of your body tells a different story. Guess you haven't made your way around the block as much as I had ascertained." He fingered her hair, moving his attention the locks in his hand. "We'll have to do something about your hair color." Releasing her hair, he stepped around her and opened his bedroom door. "Remember what I was saying about perks?" he asked. She nodded. He took her arm and led her into his room.
The side table had been moved and the two chairs sat on either side of it, facing each other. Layla smelled the food before she saw it and looked up. He led her to one of the chairs and sat her down. Leaning forward, his eyes lingered on hers. "You've been a very good girl," he whispered. She closed her eyes briefly. Yes, she had been, but what had it cost her? He straightened and walked to the other chair, sitting across from her. He leaned back, one leg straightened out before him, the other knee bent. He leaned back in the chair, almost slouching, arms resting on the arms of the chair; his posture relaxed. "It's not filet mignon or anything like that.. but it's not the slop they're feeding you."
On the plate before her was lamb, after all, this was Scotland and one thing Scotland has in abundance is sheep. There were also steamed vegetables, bread, cheese and a glass of claret. Genja often needed to remind himself that mortals didn't have the recuperative powers of his kind and he had to keep her strength up. She simply sat there staring down at the plate. "Eat," he said and she practically dove into the food before her. Never did his eyes leave her and not a word did either of them speak. He knew she hadn't been eating. Hell, half the time she wasn't even conscious when the humans were fed. He had decided that she couldn't afford to lose any more weight. He simply didn't find it attractive.
When she finished, he walked over and picked up the tray, carrying it out of the room and setting it outside the door for one of the ghouls to take care of. "Better?" he asked as he returned to her side. She nodded. "I know it wasn't much, but you have to get used to it before the portions can be increased." He held his hand out to her. "Come, I have something else for you." She looked up at him as she took his hand and stood. He actually smiled encouragingly at her. Layla couldn't explain it, but his mood tonight was inherently more terrifying than any she'd witnessed so far.
He led her out into the hall and to another chamber. The room itself was almost as large as his and in the center sat a wooden tub fill with steaming water. Layla's eyes widened in shock and she looked at Genja questioningly. "How?" she asked. He walked over and sat on the stool next to the tub. He laid his arm on the tub's edge and reached over with his other hand, dipping his finger into the water and swirling it. "This is a castle," he explained. "And the thing about castles is that they're built to withstand months long sieges." He looked up at her. "Take your clothes off and get in." He continued to speak as she did what she was told.
"Castles are also built to house and feed large numbers of people and to be self-contained. We have wells independent of any outside water source, very large hearths on which to cook feasts for parties numbering in the hundreds, salting shacks for the preservation of meats and other foods, stables, gardens among many other amenities, not to mention the castle's defensive features." His eyes devoured her as she undressed and settled into the water. "The Queen has finally received word. Edinburgh isn't the only city thus afflicted." He moved to her side and took the soap and washcloth from her. He rubbed the soap into the cloth until it had a nice, thick lather and placed the soap on the floor next to him. Crouching beside the tub, he began washing her, slowly and thoroughly. "The world has changed, Layla, and with it, the mortals place within it. Humans are nothing more than slaves now . Over the next few days and nights, gardens will be planted, animals.. of the four legged variety.. will be herded. The Queen will be implementing a very dark ages like castle schedule and itinerary. Men will be trained for combat, the ghouls and mortals will be fed on a regular basis, food more fitting to keep them fit and useful. The laws have changed and we now live under a monarchy... a real monarchy, not just some figure head title meant to bolster the people's national pride. Things are going to become much, much more brutal."
"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked. He stopped and dropped the washcloth into the water. "Because you need to understand your place. You need to understand the situation. This isn't temporary, Layla. This is your life now. And the sooner you adjust to it, the sooner you stop holding on to the hope that one night you'll wake up and the world will be what you're used to again, the better off you'll be. The sooner you realize how fortunate you are to have incurred my favor, the more pleasant life will be for you. Now, wash your hair." He resumed his seat on the stool and watched her. He liked his women clean and he would have them that way.
When she had finished, he stood, a towel draped over his arm and another towel in his hands which he held open for her. She stepped out of the tub and he stepped towards her, wrapping the towel around her body. Then he did something he hadn't done before. He kissed her. When Layla didn't respond, Genja's eyes hardened, his gaze boring into her. "I'm being nice, now, Layla. But if you prefer..." Layla felt the panic rising within her. "No.." she said, stepping closer to him and raising her chin. He kissed her again, and this time she responded as if she lived and died by his affection. Yes, he thought again, she had been so easily broken.
He handed her the second towel for her hair and walked over to an antique vanity. He picked up a bottle and brought it over to her. Unscrewing the cap, he held it under her nose. "Smell," he said and she did. "Lavendar?" she asked. He nodded. "Not perfume, oil. I prefer it to rose. Rose is.. overdone." He tilted the bottle against his finger and rubbed his finger behind each of her ears. Repeating the action, he rubbed his finger in the hollow of her throat and between her breasts, then he handed the bottle to her. "The backs of your knees," he said. She did as he was told and handed the bottle back to him. He stepped forward and pressed his nose against her throat, inhaling the scent. Stepping back, he nodded approvingly.
"You belong to me. The humans are to be branded with the Royal Seal. However, you will be branded with mine. From now on, you will call me Genja, but never in the presence of others." He took her face in his hands. "Now, say my name and tell me you love me," he demanded.
Layla swallowed, hard and looked into his eyes. I love you.. the hardest words she'd ever written or said even when she meant them and now she had to lie outright. She wasn't sure she could, but then she thought of the consequences and suddenly they didn't seem so difficult anymore.
"I love you.. Genja."