“Can’t or won’t?” Her words were hard and sharp as she spat them down at him from her upward position. Her face however was disturbingly cool, a stark contrast to the harshness of her tone.
“I won’t because I can’t. They are all misaligned. I cannot in all good conscious do what it is that you are asking me,” He stopped, his words cut off by her sudden movement, the flick of anger giving itself over again to the placid expression she seemed to always wear.
The woman was a frightening mass of pretty and poison. Large dark eyes that screamed of innocence, set just slightly back away from her tiny nose, were nothing more than dangerous liars. This woman was deadly.
He swiveled his seat around to face her, looking up at her from half a floor below. caution tied his tongue as he thought about how to further explain his situation. He allowed his eyes to take in his periphery. The now empty chairs that had once been filled with his colleagues where chilling reminders of how costly a misunderstood response could be.
He took in a breath and waited until the dullness of her eyes glossed just a bit. She was more cordial when her eyes were glossy. He had learned her ways by now. More so than anything. More than not wanting to upset her or cause her to strike. He did not want to strike, for if he did, if he awakened the sleeping beast within, he feared there would be no putting it to sleep again.
No one knew the truth of who he was nor what he was. His mother had only divulged that truth when there was no other way to comfort him the very first time he had shifted. She warned him to control himself, to never let that part of him rule. Their world would not survive if he did.
But in that moment as she, the beautiful liar, descended the stairwell, eyes still dark and dull, he realized he had very little choice in the matter. Either he would awaken at the risk of killing his own world for a blood lust that tickled his tongue or he would yield to this deadly woman and allow her to force him to wipe out many worlds as a result of her haste and greed.
The tell-tale signs of her marking for death became ever more apparent the closer she drew towards him. And with each step, he pondered his last option, should he let her kill him as she had the others?
The heat of his being, the sleeping beast answered before he could. The answer was spelled out in the spray of red that painted the room from her pretty, poisonous body, now rent in two.