He remembered her on the side of the highway, soaking wet, bitter, and daggers in her eyes. An animal long beaten and abused is quick to sink their teeth into anyone offering to take the thorn out of the paw. But with patience, acceptance, and empathy, some of the most hurt could stand to see their reflection again.
He stopped on the road because he had been a facilitator for so long...
He had almost forgotten what it was like to be at rock bottom.
Like her.
She had no reason to trust him. Raining in the night, cuts mixing with water as it slid down her legs. She almost preferred this pain over his extended hand. Because it was a pain she already knew.
She remembered his offer. "I know where I'd rather be, if I were you."
And it was anywhere but here.
He certainly took her 'away,' But he didn't take her just anywhere. He took her somewhere better. He gave her a blanket. A bed. A mirror. One she broke on the first day. But it was safe.
He offered her a job to work beside him, and she could stay as long as she liked. She stayed not out of fear but curiosity, and desperation. Despite how alien it felt, the alternative was far gone. It was as if she was thrown to another life. One where the agony and self loathing she carried with her was just a story she was told a long time ago. But pain has a bad habit of digging hooks into the skin. Reminding us that no matter how much we hate it, we need it. And that we can't change.
And so, ever the waterlogged animal, she bit the hand that fed her. Snapped away to ensure he was unwelcome. He held his grip, letting the malnourished fangs sink to the bone as he slowly lowered her mouth for her eyes to meet his gaze.
She remembered how the only other place she'd seen eyes filled with so much guilt and shame was in her own reflection.
She remembered hating herself so thoroughly, she threw herself into the drone program expecting never to wake again. She remembered upturning a coffee table screaming at him when she did.
She remembered how he'd never blink. always eyes on her. Always talking to her carefully like she was a beaten child. always giving the best goddamn meals she ever had. Always quietly correcting anyone criticizing his insistence on being there in person. Always offering that fucking hand.
She remembered crying when she was too tired to resist his reassurance anymore.
She remembered preferring the hypnotic patterns over thinking for herself. because it meant she wouldn't be a fuckup.
She remembered when Hexan rended what little of her soul was left, reworking it to bring out the worst in her.
She remembered how Vids fought Darkwitt. and despite her savagery, he didn't pull back.
Or hold back.
She remembered him searching deep into the arcane for a solution. Making deals she never heard to find a way to restore her to the way she was.
She remembered committing to the mark. And how it gave her purpose more than any other moment. Allowing her to take on a new name. a new identity.
And now here she lay, the gentle haze of bliss as she danced on strings, pivoting and pirouetting in a practiced dance. peering back to the years behind the reflections of the ceiling and floor. Deepening her trance. Deepening his control.
At the end of the dance, he would release his strings. and she would resume her role as proctor; as assistant. Handling the day to day at his discretion. At his direction. Her free will was intact. and she chose to coil it around his finger like a tightly wound spring.
Brimming with potential.
He guided her gaze to a mirror of their performance. For the first time in her life, In the seven years she had known him. She did not see pain anymore. All she saw was plenty of room to grow.
And he would sow it.
----- When I met Visia, she was still getting bearings on who she was. it was difficult for her to settle or trust anyone would even want to be around her. But there I was, ever the idiot for seeing the best in everyone, for better or for worse.
Now she's living in a new home, with people that love her, wanting to learn the skills I have so she may better help me wherever she can.
It's hard to contemplate what her life would have been like had we never met.
Because she keeps telling me how she owes so much in gratitude. And I'll never fully feel like I deserve it.
I'm happy to know you Visia. And it humbles me you and so many others think of me more highly than I would ever consider viewing myself.
