Tea with Leatrix

After receiving an official invitation from "Mistress" Leatrix von Dietrich, I wandered around London, asked some locals for directions, and then tentatively knocked on her door. I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. What if he was there? How much did she know about me, really?
A servant girl answered the door and led me in to an overly posh place. The "Mistress" had a sincere look of happiness when I arrived, and I could tell she restrained herself from hugging me. It was ok at first.. she complained about high society and her duties tending to them. I never really cared much for people who dressed like peacocks, so I was blatant in my questions about why she even bothered to associate with those types.

Then she starts blathering about this demon that she summoned, and fortunately he wasn't there. I played dumb to this knowledge, and she just spilled out everything. About how her dear Asmodeus is so loyal and would do anything for her. How he looks unlike any other demon, but she wants to dress him up all pretty and integrate him into society. She really had no clue my relationship with her "Asmodeus," which was a good thing, because I posed my questions to her in such a way to make her reconsider what she was doing. Is he really a demon? Can you really trust demons? What is a demon, anyways? All the while, she had this doe-eyed face, and I just wanted to sit up and slap the idiocy out of her.

This bitch is trying to domesticate my Zillah! And she talks like she has feelings for him! If she has touched him.... I swear to whatever gods that are up there I will ruin her. This girl-child is an idiot. She's messing with powers she doesn't understand, and in turn, fucking up my life. What's worse is her reasonings for summoning the demon. She did it for her father for some inane reason she avoided, then she changed her mind. Yes, changed her mind. So now she's fawning over what she thinks is a demon, and it's my fiance.

But I know I have to remain calm. I know that I have to detach him from this girl, and just killing her will not resolve the issue of his taken soul.

The "Mistress" (the title being a complete joke, by the way) was completely oblivious to my condescending attitude, and hurled herself at me in goodbye. I can't wait to save my Zillah from her grasp. If he knew what he was really into, he would hate himself. Epically.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Goodbye

Image
I've come to realize that I've been used. You doesn't really care for me as you claim. Hell, you never claimed. You only griped and complained about my actions. So goodbye, Zillahface. Relationships are not important to you, and you aren't afraid to express that. That's ok... for you. That's not ok for me. You've disappeared for long periods of time, only to be condescending and threatening to me when you come back. I'm not an expert at relationships, but my ideal man would miss me, and show it. I've been nothing but accepting to your ways, and might I add they are not the norm. You said I'd be back. No, you'll be back. Lime.
Read more

Gypsy Down for the Count

Image
I had another friend that I trapped in my cottage. An older gypsy woman by the name of Sway. She liked to sway around, so I guess that's how she got her name. And don't ask me about my obsession in trapping people in my house. It's not that I trap them, I just kind of lock the door so they can't get out. Anyways, me and Sway got along real great. She'd be there hanging out in my garden practicing little jigs, and here I'd come and jump in on the dancing. I'm hoping that someday I can use the little hip tricks she taught me to seduce some boys. I must admit that she did distract me from my fire-dancing practice. She had no interest in such things, she said. She felt that it would singe her hairdo, and some gypsies won't ever risk that. But then the ... i want to say inevidable... happened. She was slaughtered. In front of my eyes. The murderer callous and irrational. Of course, he didn't care. Apparently I'm not allowed to have friends, no matter ...
Read more

Easy Does It

Image
I wasn't afraid to kill myself. Not in the least. It would have been easy to just slip into the bathtub at the cottage, and not come back up for air. Or just bleed into my freshly growing flowers that are starting to grow back in the garden. Ironic no? Taking life on fresh life. It was easy to envision. Some wandering soldier (since there's so many that like to trifle through my things) would come into my home, find my corpse, and raise the alarm. Oh no, another gypsy dead. Not like there aren't handfuls of them around Romania. And they'd take my body to the waste and dump it with all the other unidentified bodies. Some sentimental fool would come to my house and out of respect, burn my house to the ground. I would have liked that. Hey, I'm still thinking of just burning down my house for sport. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. The letter wasn't a cry for help, it was a declaration of what I was to do. I was ready. Completely. But m...
Read more