Misha_Takes_A_Trip_To_The_Pier_Full.txt

        1

        "How are you feeling today, Hicchan~?" I greet him, same as ever. He looks at me with the same bitter disdain, weakly rattling his chain to make sure it's still attached. Even if it were loose, I'm blocking the door, which means he can't get out. He'll never get out. He's mine now.

        I sit down, feeling the cold metal beneath shudder under the sudden weight; a gluttonous plate of food sits before me. He watches me eat it, all of it, drooling and struggling the whole time. He wants the food, he wants it from me and he knows the only way I'm going to give it to him is if he begs like a dog. I do this every day and he hasn't given in yet; I can only anticipate the moment he finally snaps. God knows I did long ago.

        "I've got another surprise~ for you. You're going to LOVE it, wahaha~..." I reach into the same bag I pulled the food out of, withdrawing a long steak knife. He knows this knife well, it's the one I used to cut his Achilles' heels way back at the start of our little journey together. The floor of the shipping container is cold as the docks usually are; but when it's closed, nobody can hear him scream, and that's why I use it to hide him. People don't really bother looking inside these things anyway; the whole place is practically abandoned.

        He scoots back, shuddering against the corner, eyes wide in fright. I advance on him, slowly, giggling to myself the whole time. He doesn't know what I'm going to do, but he'd be begging me not to do it if his vocal chords still worked, but I can tell that he's screamed them hoarse again while I was away. I've told him time and time again that nobody can hear him here, but he doesn't

        ever

        LISTEN

        My fingers trace the scar on his chest. "How much do you love me, Hicchan~?"

        He sobs.

        I reach a hand up and wrap it around his weak, sick throat. "TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU LOVE ME, HICCHAN~."

        He chokes, and one hand flies up to his jugular. I slice at his wrist once and it flops to the ground, too injured to sufficiently move anymore. I never cut him too deep. I always make sure to fix him up when I hurt him; I bring bandages and gauze and tape. He seems so intent on living to see me  

        But then, that was a long time ago.

        "I... I..." He coughs, and I release him, eagerly waiting for him to speak. "I love y-you, Misha." He quivers, looking more broken than ever. At the sound of his voice, I feel the wettening of my panties hidden beneath my blouse. His voice, no matter how weak, is music to my ears.

        "Do you want me to give you a treat~, Hicchan?" I snicker at his sudden inhale. He knows what treats are and what they mean. He knows I'm about to give him the same show he always denied me when we were still a couple. No, no, we were never a couple. He was with SHIZUNE. I don't talk about her anymore. I don't remember where her body is buried and I don't remember how many pieces it's in. She was the first to go, though. I know that. I've held onto that. She was the nearest and dearest to me besides my beloved Hicchan, and every time my eye twitches I am reminded of her.

        He's so desperate. It makes me laugh how his eyes widen and his frail body spins to observe as I step back. I have to duck a little to stand inside the container, but I bite my lower lip and hitch up my skirt. I keep myself just outside of arms' reach, so that Hicchan can look, but not touch. Never touch. He tried to touch once and I split one of his ribs. If anyone gets any pleasure out of this it's ME AND ONLY ME AND I WON'T LET HIM TOUCH ME NEVER AGAIN NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER CATCH ME THEY'LL NEVER CATCH ME

        and then

        "Wahahaha...~" I begin, rubbing the front of my panties gently at first. Hicchan's mouth starts to water as he claws at the metal, against the chain tight around him, trying desperately to reach me. I throw back my head and let out a delicious moan, barely able to contain myself already. Just the thought of Hicchan aching with pleasure makes me incredibly aroused. It's a sick, terrible thing that I get such enjoyment out of it, but I've stopped caring. I'm already a murderer, why not be a torturer as well?

        Before I know what's happening, my panties are around my ankles and I'm on my knees, furiously rubbing and prodding and plunging inside of my deepest parts. The various fluids trickle out and make little 'plink' sounds against the metal of the container. My face turns a light pink and I let out a shrill cry as I climax, curling into myself. My breathing slowly returns to normal, and I view the aftermath of the event firsthand.

        "I'll see you tomorrow~, Hicchan!" I smile the same honest smile, and listen to him wail in despair as I close the container behind me. It's a very heavy metal door, and the locking mechanism is rusted, but it's enough to keep him inside. It takes me a minute to close it, and I watch the shadows come across his shredded and scratched face as he cries. After this I will head down to the beach and change my clothes under the cover of night, as usual; visiting Hicchan in the day would be crazy. Then, after I've washed the blood off myself, I'll go home. A new episode of my favorite anime is on tonight! I nod to affirm my plan, and then get moving, my feet making little plodding noises on the concrete as I depart.

 

        2

        "How are you feeling today, Hicchan~?" He doesn't even turn his head this time. I start to think he's dead for a moment, and my smile fades, but he shudders in the cold wind. We live a quiet life, he and I. I know he gets tired of my voice, but when I kiss him, it makes up for it perfectly well. SHIZUNE told me that things are better left unsaid sometimes, and I've always held to that. I loved her almost as much as I love Hicchan now at one time; but now she's gone. I try to put SHIZUNE out of my mind as often as I can in favor of Hicchan but sometimes it just doesn't work WHY DOESN'T ANYTHING I DO EVER WORK

        And oh, I tried. Oh, how hard I tried. I tried not to kill her. I didn't want to do it but that other girl inside of me told me to and I had to listen. She and I are the same now; my left eye is constantly burnt, twisted and red, a horrible scar to mark my self-injury. At first I tried to wrench the thing out but it stayed there in peace and solitude and eventually I just left it alone. Nobody even bothered to question it; beyond the gold there was only RED RED RED SO MUCH BLOOD and it hurt. But I ignored it, instead choosing to focus on Hicchan.

        I used to miss SHIZUNE after I finally removed her from our little love triangle. I know I cut out her heart. I remember that. I don't think I'll ever forget it. I took my favorite little steak knife and cut open her chest and she was still alive and screaming horrible incomprehensible words. I peeled back her chest like I was dissecting her, watching her sweat, clinging desperately to life. She lay where Hisao sits now. She stopped screaming and started to twitch as I sawed through her sternum and I think she died about then. I don't know. I don't want to remember any more than I have to. I held her heart, cradled the weakly shuddering thing in my hands. I shoved past her lungs and dug deep into her chest to pull it out. I don't remember what I did with it. God please someone help me.

        Hicchan quivers again as I approach, and were I anything but an empty shell, I'd be filled with empathy. I plant a sweet, delicate kiss on his forehead. I decide that today I'm going to be nice. I'm going to let him touch me. I gently unlock the chain from Hicchan's gored ankle and then step back. He reaches out toward me, leaning on me for support, but falls over and lands right on his jaw. It makes a sickening but so alluring crack as it hits the METAL. My head pounds for a moment, and I wonder what it would be like if he'd just slept with me when I asked him to.

        No. Comfort. I said comfort. I have to keep that in mind. I said comfort. Comfort. Comfort. Comfort. I'm not crazy.

        I love him.

        I take a seat at the other end of the container, eager to watch him struggle. I pull out my cellphone, giggling, taking a video. It's dark when the container is closed but my eyes have adjusted to the dark by now, and turning on the little flash makes things better. I watch him crawl on his hands, grunting in anger and effort. We go through this sometimes, and he already knows the rules. When he touches me, I'll give him his reward and then go. No more, no less. That's how it's always been. That's how it's always going to be.

        MOTHER

        He stops to take a break, propping himself up on his elbow. I wonder for a moment what his pulse is; his heart was important to him, SHIZUNE's is important to me. I lower the cell phone and whistle.

        "C'mon, Hicchan~! My pussy is waiting~ for you! Wahahaha!" Sometimes I have to encourage him. It makes me feel awful, like I'm a degenerate slut. Someone called me that once. I remember it. I remember a lot of things I want to forget. God how I want to forget I WANT TO FORGET I REALLY DESPERATELY WANT TO FORGET BUT NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I SMASH MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALLS OF MY PRISON I CAN'T BREAK FREE

        He claws the last few inches toward me, and I scootch even farther away, to draw out the torture. I giggle as his hand touches my shoe and works its way up my thigh. His hand briefly rests on my crotch, and I feel the skin brush my sensitive lips beneath my panties. I shiver in pleasure, but he doesn't stop there. His other hand swings forward and he growls in anger. It lands on my stomach. My legs splay out, allowing him to go where he pleases for the moment.

        I know where his hands are going. I know what he wants to do. I know what he wants to do and I'm going to let him do it. Because I am a tease. I am a degenerate slut. I am worthless, nothing; my parents are dead and so am I. Hisao is dead. Everyone I LOVE IS DEAD TO ME NOW but his hands gingerly wrap around my throat. I feel every nick, every scratch and scar on them as they sit there for a moment. Our eyes lock, and his face falls as he realizes he doesn't have the strength to choke me. He tries, oh how hard he tries. His efforts are almost tragic, poetic. He squeezes tighter and tighter, so tight that my eyes widen and bulge out of my head and my lips start to turn blue but he always gives out right when he knows I'm at the threshold he wants me to be at. I love the feeling of him choking me. It makes me feel so alive. My panties get wet again and I am ashamed of myself.

        "Wahahaha~!" I choke out. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, Hicchan~!" I lean forward, gripping his wrists with my own palms. I grit my teeth, a grim determination lining my features. "CHOKE ME, HICCHAN!" I move my fingers gently up to his knuckles and push inward on my own throat; my vision, even here in the dark, starts to blur around the edges. Hicchan's face starts to disappear and I cackle and I don't know why. I feel a building pressure inside me and I start to gurgle beneath him, sliding down so that he is on top of me. My choking moans get harsher and deeper but I can't let them out and they're so wet like someone breathing through a thin layer of water and it feels so incredible. This is his reward. He doesn't get the satisfaction of doing it himself. I won't give it to him.

        But then I feel his penis prod my entrance and my foot is smashing into his stomach faster than ever. I wheeze as the breathing returns and Hicchan stumbles off of me. He falls onto his rear and coughs, recoiling from the blow. No. No no no. He never puts it inside of me. I'll never let him do it. Never never never. No. No. No.

        I stand up, so fast that my head smashes into the top of the container with a dull thud. But I'm infuriated now. I can't take it. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. I kick him in the side and he rolls, and I feel the blood from my head injury start to seep out from between my teeth. I spit it on him, bending over. I drag my weak love by his hair, re-attaching the chain to his ankle. He doesn't get his reward today. He doesn't deserve it.

        I'm so frustrated with his sudden move that I forget to say goodbye to him as I leave, stewing in my anger. I was so close, too, and then he had to go and ruin it. But then, did I deserve it? Did I deserve the pleasure of release, the pleasure of orgasming to such a vile act? The answer is no. If SHIZUNE was still alive, she'd attest to that.

        Today, when I shut the container, I realize I've never felt so alone.

 

        3

        "How are you feeling today, Hicchan~?" As if I don't already know the answer. I feel my skin bubble and pop with pus and gore as the monster starts to push its way out. It's been a few days since I've been able to visit Hicchan; without him to make me smile, I have been little more than a vessel for the other me. She and I talk on occasion; I found out that she likes being tortured the other day. I threatened to cut her and the lines appeared on my wrists instead. I don't know what that means.

        To other people, I am one person. I am one Shiina Mikado, a young  girl on the brink of adulthood. My eye seeps with the blood of pain and vengeance sometimes. My nose bleeds regularly nowadays. I went to the doctor and he told me it was something about a swelling in my head but I told him I didn't want any cures. I didn't want any medicine. They'd make me leave Hicchan behind and I just couldn't do that. Sometimes I blink and it takes too long for my eye to open again and I see things. I see things that I can only ignore for a little while before they get to me. I don't sleep anymore; I haven't slept in weeks. All I do is sit on my bed at night wondering what Hicchan is thinking about. He is all that matters to me anymore.

        I watch the monster crawl along the ceiling of the container, making horrible dents in it, matching my steps as I walk toward Hicchan. The suffering has to end eventually. I look up, and the Misha staring back at me with the one eye in its head is furious at me for even thinking of what I am thinking of. The steak knife feels loose in my wrist, and I let it dangle at my side. The girl watching me was not Misha. It had no features, only that one, piercing golden eye that I no longer had. It wore no clothes, only the tatters of its flesh lining its frail bones. It twitches and writhes like it's having an epileptic seizure on the ceiling, and I get lost in it. I can see Hisao staring up at the place where it would be if he could see it. He's watching it too. It isn't really there. It can't be. But I see it. And I know.

        I knew it was really me. I can only observe as it scrambles over to the corner opposite Hisao, arms moving in perfect synthesis like a massive spider. I let the monster have free reign this time. I'm too drained to feel anything anymore. When I'm with Hicchan, I feel. When I'm not with Hicchan, I die. Slowly, at first, but too many days separated from him will make me bleed out of my every pore until I struggle down to the pier and see him again. Nobody else can see it. Nobody else knows my pain nor my suffering.

        Torturing Hicchan is how I keep the monster at bay. The monster-that-was-not-me, that is. I watch it hover over Hicchan, its face contorting and then splitting right at the seams as the eye opens into a maw with thousands of teeth ready to bite his head off at my signal. I can see the venom dripping down his shoulder, but he can't. He can't see it or feel it or anything. It was all in my head. I step forward and stumbled into Hisao, and the monster screeches in terror as I drew near, throwing itself onto the wall and scrambling away. When my back was turned it would crawl back up into my flesh and I'd hardly feel it. I knew it would happen because it always does.

        "Hicchan, tell me how much you love me." There is no emotion in my voice. There's no feeling. I sense nothing. I am nothing. When I'm away from Hicchan my sanity comes back, and I hate it. I hate seeing what I've become, it makes me want to kill myself. I want to kill myself so desperately. God I want to do it. I want to end my miserable little existence. I want to die. I WANT TO DIE. But I won't die. I keep letting the wound heal only to scrape it off as soon as it starts to scab over and I like it this way. My brain is bleeding and I'm not willing to stop it anymore. If I die soon, then so be it. I want to be with Hicchan when it happens.

        I was weak before. I've always been weak. I've always relied on someone. First my mother, then SHIZUNE, and now Hicchan. I am weak still, even now. I tried to hang myself, but my craving for asphyxiation brought me to the point of orgasm and I had to struggle to cut myself down. I don't want to die in pleasure. I want to have a horrible, violent death. I want to shudder and I want to bleed. I want to feel all of the pain I've caused Hicchan and SHIZUNE and everyone I've ever known to LEAK OUT OF MY BONES AND MY BLOOD VESSELS AND SPREAD ACROSS THE SEAS

        And I am not the Misha everyone once knew. Hicchan doesn't know what to say to me, and to be honest, I don't know what to say to myself either. I'm tired of our games. I'm tired of everything. I can feel the monster hovering over me now, I can feel it wanting to return to my body. My nose is bleeding horribly and so are my ears. I'm drowsy. But I know that if I fall asleep in Hicchan's presence, he'll kill me. He told me so before. He told me he wants to be the one to do it and that he hates me but I love him so much. I love him and I want him to feel as I have felt before he dies.

        My vision is growing blurry now. "Hicchan~... I'm... Sleepy~." I have to stay awake. I have to get away from Hicchan before I fall asleep or he's going to do it. He's going to do it before I'm ready. I try to push myself to my feet but my body weighs a thousand pounds against his. My breathing starts to pick up as I seize, and my ears fill with a horrible static. A HORRIBLE STATIC GSGJA DTHCTATIC GHFJ IC AN'T THINK ANYMORED HCAN'T BREAHTE SUPDPLANGJDSTER CAN'T BREATHE CAN'T BREATHE CAN'T BREATHE

        The blood starts to spill out of my mouth as well. It's a wonder I've managed to go on this long with such a horrible disease. I never got to find out what it really was, anyway. I look at the creature standing over me and wonder whether it will exist or not when I'm gone. The horrible visage of Death before me throws the hood over his shoulders and now I understand. He gazes at me with my own eye and I close the one in my head and press my body against Hicchan's. He's too warm. I nuzzle into his chest like he's a pillow as he picks up the knife, and I don't know if I want to stop him anymore. I'm dying anyway. I feel him start to saw into my neck and I feel the blood spray all down my front and then I feel nothing at all. My last thought as the breath leaves the new hole in my windpipe is a simple one.

        They'll never catch me.