This appeared on my favorite imageboard the other day.



Either its her messing with me because she caught me fapping to guro, or it really is that whiny brat trying to start a fight between us. Still, how did she know about the knife incident? I hadn't even posted about it here yet, but I guess I might as well, since, somehow, the entire supernatural interweb knows.

The other night we holed up in some hotel in Kansas City. I took the opportunity to load myself up with sedatives to the point of approximating something very like sleep, and it was enjoyable. What happened next, however, was entirely unexpected. In the wee hours of the morning, I was awoken from a dream-filled slumber by her running her hands through my hair, planting kisses along my neck. I sighed happily, ready to push her away and get back to sleep. "You're so beautiful..." she whispered, and I giggled softly.

"As are you," I mumbled, ready to turn over and go back to sleep. The next thing I knew, she was gripping the back of my neck tightly, as if I were a kitten. I rolled my eyes, prepared to tell her something along the lines of, "Not tonight, honey. I'm tired and I haven't fully recovered from last time."

"It's problematic," she said, extending the last word to approximate my own pronunciation of it. What happened next is a bit blurry, owing to the Ativan and Benedryl. She pinned me against the mattress as she often had, but it was far different than any of our earlier encounters; she wouldn't let me struggle, and seemed more intent on holding my face still rather than my flailing limbs.

I saw a flash of something bright and sharp in the light of the streetlamps outside our window, and all I could think was, "Oh, not another knife..." She had been pulling knives on me since the very beginning. Hell, I think I pulled one on her first. Nevertheless, I was far too tired for such games at the moment, and braced myself, waiting for it to be over.

I heard myself cry out in surprise and anger (always anger) when the blade made contact with my left cheek. I felt the flesh sliced in a straight line, and the sudden, familiar warmth of blood spilling over my faced. Independent of all that, another feeling raced through my body: a searing, burning pain, as sharp as the knife itself. I heard a strange wail, and soon realized that it was my own voice catching in my throat. I had not felt pain like that in recent memory, my senses being so blurred and mixed together. This was intense and definitely pain, definitely unwanted.

What could possibly do that? I wracked my brain for any toxin or drug that might cause that effect, but even those that I could think of - how could they effect me in that way? I was immortal. Any wounds I garnered, either in battle or when playing with her usually healed in a matter of seconds, and never felt like this, ever.

Just as suddenly as it had began, she receded into the darkness that surrounded me, and I felt myself drift away again, despite the pain shooting through my limbs. When I came to my senses the next morning, she behaved as if everything were as usual. The only indication that it had not been a dream was the ridged scar running across my left cheek, that frightened me even more. I had no scars, anywhere. It simply did not happen.

What was that? And how does Iris know about it? I will be pressing the issue.