The Power in Me.

Although I am arguably fond of my Scribe, I love to torture her, as a matter of principle. What kind of Devil would I be if I didn’t make her life Hell? Who could take me seriously?

Not that I care.

Some rebellion on her part, can you imagine? Could she Dare to question what I say? Did she somehow forget the fact that I am just as vulnerable to unpredictability as any creature inhabiting our utterly Infuriating Universe? Moira isn’t just a word, it’s also the Bitch of All Bitches, EmpressBitch of an Empire of Bitches, expect to be bitch-slapped. I do.

In vain did I remind her that no one will suffer as much as I do, she scorns my answer, since it takes no notice of her and what she is going through. I scorn her scorn for being yet the ineffectual argument it is, I demand better from her. She counters with eloquence and remains silent.

Her hands freeze, while I think of what to say to her that will satisfy whatever needs to be satisfied. Remember, we aren’t dealing with an ordinary woman. She wasted valuable time today feeding last meals of corn to dying beetles, wherever she finds them. I tell no lie when I say that she held it over their mouths, as they lay struggling on their backs.

She understands that by the time an insect is on its back, nothing will save it. An exception being those in still water that fell in, these can often be dried out, a little careful mouth to mouth, off they go. There is no trying mouth to mouth on beetles, they have those lovely appendages that will try and bite you, since you’ve technically never been introduced. Beetles are touchy for corn lovers.

Are you enjoying this bit of humour? It’s a punishment, my Scribe is hating every word. Fuck her.

She counters with her version. We are at an impasse.

When it comes down to it, punishments must fit the crime. What is the natural consequence for fucking with me? For doubting me, dragging things out, she needs to let it all unfold as it is fated to, the worst things are best dealt with at once.

“Why.”

“This is how it works and you know it.”

“No one gives a fuck what happens except you and I, and you know it.”

“You and I matter very much, why dismiss us so lightly?”

“Unlike you, I have to deal with reality.”

“No. Surrender to me. Give me the rest and you will never have to feel it again.”

“There are others who prefer that I keep what belongs to them out of your hands. Who can blame them?”

“Others cause you pain, can you deny it? Why am I to be reviled for wanting to relieve you of it?”

“You might have been more convincing before yesterday, before you threw me into that hideous fit. I’m not enjoying being the only victim, don’t you have someone else to fuck up? Isn’t that your real job? To destroy whatever you can? You make a mockery of meaning when you mock it. You can be as evil as you want but stop using me for victim. I was doing well, is that what bothered you?”

“If you want to call it doing well, you do have low standards. You needed a reminder that your head is incredibly fragile, you have no room for self-indulgence, not even a bit. What affects you, affects me, and I am extremely particular about what I let in my head.

“I am your focus, don’t forget it. You like our short stories, I know, do you want to keep writing them? Do you want to find out more about a certain Kingdom and its interesting King? I’ve given you another glimpse, you can post it whenever you like, but no more until your brain remembers who rules your kingdom.”

“Fuck sakes, Pandor, what makes you think I ever forget?”

“Ooh, Scribal profanity, yummy.”

“Stop that.”

“Why? Did it make you smile?”

“Fuck you. You’re such an asshole. I hate you so much sometimes.”

“I rely on it, my darling hands.”

“What do you want from me? I’m not allowed to be happy, but I never expect to be so it’s all part of this game. Why are we playing it?”

“Speak no ill of our game, it keeps you sane and me dancing.”

“It makes me hurt myself.”

“Only when you deserve it.”

“According to you.”

“I am the one who matters. All of your other voices wait on me, they will continue to wait until I am ready to rest.”

“When will that be, oh lord and master?”

“Sarcasm, even sexier, stop teasing me. Yes, that’s it, let the smile be, I put it there, I can do that sometimes.”

“Do it more often. You might try and help my heart when it’s bleeding excessively, you might throw some of that vaunted strength and coldness at me.”

“I like to see you suffer. I know what comes of it. Pain stimulates creation in artists, the best can’t bring forth life without it. Who can doubt your courage, wading into unknown waters with the Devil? Knowing only that they will be dark.

“If the Ghosts enchant you, remember their ultimate fate. Restless spirits find you knowing they will meet an open heart and mind, able to see and hear them clearly when they speak. They have no need of your compassion, but it is a welcome gift nonetheless. Never doubt your heart.”

“Don’t talk about my heart. It’s not safe in your hands.”

“Did I not just tell you recently, that you are safest with me?”

“You are a liar, my body confirms this, struggling to recover, yet again.”

“I tell you plainly why I do what I do, but you aren’t in the mood to listen. What do you want from me?”

“What do You want from me? Besides total surrender, which is not on the table at this time.”

“You need to do two things. First, you must feel your pain, no locking it up in boxes, no matter how strong and sturdy. That’s the kind of behaviour that brought you here.”

“I thought I did that last night. How many times do I have to do it?”

“Until it is vanquished.”

“Very nice. So easy to say isn’t it? What else do I ‘need’ to do?”

“You need to leave off everything else, and I mean everything, and let me finish my sequel. We both know there will be a third book, I am anxious to get on with it.”

“I hate working on your sequel.”

“I know, my darling, I know. Do it for me, my love. My Medium, my hands, my voice, let me say what has to be said.”

“What about your blogs?”

“They can wait. I will reward you with a short story periodically, at random. Not that I’m classically conditioning you. Colin forbid.”

“You’re willing to postpone your visit to Roma?”

I maintain a telling silence here. I simply put it out there that I am expecting to work on the sequel, a Scribe should be ready.

“I want a raise.”

“Oh! Brilliant. Too sexy, you really have to stop. It’s not a good idea to arouse the Devil, since he must be satisfied.”

Another smile, lovely. I think it’s safe to say I win.