FicWad

Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm the only one for you, the only one you think about. The only one in your heart.

No?

Well then I guess you don't need your toenails. Looks like this rusty pair of pliers is good for something after all. Good thing I have you tied down, because this just might make you try kicking me away. Can't have that, now can we?

Will you tell me how much I mean to you now? No? Then you don't need your fingernails either. I love to hear you scream like this, but I hate it, too. I can't stand to see you suffer this badly, can't you see that?

Why do you make me hurt you so?

Please just see that I love you, and I want you to love me back. Can't you just accept that?

Apparently not, because you still refuse to say it. Those 3 little words that I want to hear the most. They're not that hard to say, yet still you refuse. Come on, I haven't hurt you too badly yet. You're only bleeding a little. Your nails will grow back, and we can live out our days together happily. Doesn't that sound nice? Just say it and it'll happen!

Yet still, while I'm telling you I love you, you're hurling insults at me, right, left, and center, calling me a crazy, obsessed bitch.

How dare you! Who gave you that right?

A slap shuts you up at least for the moment being. Still you're glaring at me with those beautiful green eyes that I would kill to rip out. Again, I ask you, implore you, just say it and end your torture. The truth is, by doing this, I'm hurting myself more than I hurt you. All I want to do is hold you and tell you it's going to be ok. Can't you understand that?

You scream more insults at me, and threaten to kill me, lock me up for life. Oh, but that won't do, sweetheart. That won't do at all. If I didn't love your kisses so much, I'd chop out your tongue for that. Instead, I'll take your appendix. So many people don't have one as it is, and they function just fine.

But for some reason, you don't look relieved to hear that. When I cut into you, your blood spills all over my hands, warm and wet and coppery and red. Oh, that perfect shade of crimson that I've never seen anywhere else! I want to drink it, bathe in it, swim in it it's so gorgeous and perfect!

Your screams are pain are music to my ears, but it hurts my soul. Please, just give in already, give in, and this will all end. I'll heal you, and take care of you, and you can be my pet. Doesn't that seem nice? Or at least better than what you're suffering through right now?

Maybe now, because now you're screaming even more in pain. With the screams come even more insults. If my hands weren't halfway up my forearm in your stomach, I'd slap you. I've already split your lip, and a small trail of blood is leaking down your chin.

Tugging and slicing and screaming and more tugging and even more screaming, and it's out. Doesn't that feel better? My hands aren't looking for anything in your body anymore, because I found and took what I was looking for. When I hold out the appendix in front of you, you can't seem to meet my eyes. Why? Afraid to look at the consequences of your actions?

Wait. Is that a tear that I see? In wiping it away, I manage to streak your face with red. You look so pretty this way.

You're trying to say something. It sounded like you were trying to say please. Were you?

Aww, now you're begging. Well if you want me to stop, then just say it. if not, I can take your spleen, one of your kidneys, a huge portion of your small intestines, and your toes while I'm at it. But is it really that hard to say? It's just 3 little words. You used to say them to me all the time, dozens of times a day. You still use them every day, although never together anymore. Come on, 3 little syllables, and all this pain will be over. I promise.

I love you.

Good boy, you said it. That wasn't so hard now, was it?

You look at me with those pretty green jewels. For some reason, the light has gone out of them. Is that because you've lost hope? But I must say, you do look so delectable like this, broken and bloodied. I can't help but kiss you. You don't resist. Perfect.

Oh, don't worry, I'll keep my word to a T. I'll heal you, and you'll be my pet.

You let out a scream as I'm pouring the rubbing alcohol over the massive gash in your belly. I should've given you something for the pain, but after how badly you've misbehaved, you don't deserve it. Don't worry, starting tomorrow, I'll be perfectly sweet to you. I sweat it. But you don't look like you believe me. Why not?

Then come the stitches. Your skin's surprisingly soft as the needle goes through it. You let out a little whimper every time, but you don't struggle. You've learned your lesson well. When this heals up, I think i'll start using your stomach as a pillow.

When I'm done, I give you another kiss, and I leave. I'll be back for you in the morning. Don't worry, as long as you keep loving me, we won't have to go through this again.

In the morning, I go back, fully intending to keep my promise. I'll feed you and give you a bath and something to wear. Then, I'll ist there and hold you all day, and tell you how sorry that I had to punish you like that, and how much I'll make it up to you. But when I get there, you're dead. How dare you leave me!

That's ok though, because I can always bring you back to life. There's no escape from me.