Work Text:
To say Kirsty Cotton had been through a fair share of heartache, pain and despair in her life, it was no exaggeration.
She had seen it all; from abusive, incestuous uncles, the death of her mother, having to share her father with a very much loathed stepmother, the emotional distance of said father, his untimely and unfair death at the hands of her hedonist uncle and obsessed stepmother - and being hospitalised in a mental Institute where she would witness further more pain and suffering.
But she would have been in absolute denial if she had deliberately left out her ordeal with the Cenobites all those years ago; mutilated creatures summoned with simple little puzzle box... a beautiful, yet deadly, puzzle box.
The Lament Configuration was a pathway to an alternate dimension, a way to ultimate pain and pleasure under the administrations of these beings that were more accurately known as Cenobites.
And yet here Kirsty was, fifteen years following the massacre of her family and the tragedy that became of the Channard Institute, and one year after the relinquishment of her husband Trevor - still in ownership of this Pandora's box.
Why Kirsty had kept this seemingly innocent-looking box in her possessions for all this time was a complete mystery to her. Maybe it was because she wished to protect others from experiencing what she had? That was what she had drummed into herself time and time again.
Or...perhaps her inquisitiveness and her curiosity of the world it shielded were what led her into keeping possession of the box.
A world she had stepped foot on, had seen with her own eyes, yet never took the time to explore or understand.
'We have such sights to show you.' he had promised, and now she was beginning to fathom his words, and what he'd truly meant.
Did she long to escape the banality of this world and flee to this whole other mysterious place she had been trying to escape for so long?
It had been a full year since her husband Trevor had been sacrificed to the Cenobites. It was the first anniversary of the fateful day she had enticed her lying spouse into the clutches of the pinheaded creature and his kind, an act that had directly paralleled her first dealing with him and the dimension he resided.
Three of the women he had cheated on her with had also been fooled into solving the box, along with Trevor's best friend and co-conspirator into claiming Kirsty's untouched inheritance money by killing her. But Kirsty was clever; she had made a deal, and she was the one who'd bloodied her hands to save herself from the Labyrinth's grasp.
These five people had disappeared off the face of the planet, leaving behind only a remnant of blood specks in their wake, in which the police had concluded a homicide had been committed.
Though, when she first clapped eyes on the puzzle box wrapped in an evidence bag in the investigating police detective's hands, she didn't know what to think or how to feel, especially as the detective - after hearing from Kirsty it had been a wedding anniversary gift from her presumed deceased husband - had decided to hand her it back, telling her to keep it as a 'something to remember him by'. She could have said no, she could have walked away, turned around and never gave the box a second glance. But something made her take it from his grasp, an unknown force; her desire perhaps?
She held the box close to her chest back that day she would rather forget, taking heed of what the detective told her about it being a remembrance to Trevor, only it was not him she had been thinking about. Oh no. She would rather forget that creep ever existed.
Her mind was on another.
Even now, as she sat alone in her dank apartment...no real friends, no family, a dull job, a pitiful and boring predictable life, she held the box in her sweaty hands and tinkered with it. The gold of its exterior glistened from the light above her and almost blinded her. She could feel the immense power of it from just one simple touch, the dark energy drawing her in and enticing promise of everlasting pleasure.
"...Something to remember him by..."
She replayed those words in her head over and over again, the realisation of what she truly kept the box for hitting her rather abruptly. She had not kept it for selfless reasons - oh no, quite the contrary. She had kept it as a means to remaining close to him; the one she had been thinking about on a subconscious level when the detective uttered those words.
"...Something to remember him by..."
Kirsty was still uncertain of him, yet for some unexplained reason she found herself yearning for him, and tempted by him. She wished to experience the many wondrous pleasurable things his world could offer, that he so promised to lavish her with. But why? She wasn't twisted and sadistic like her uncle had been. Even playing her part in sacrificing those who had threatened to end her life had left her with deep-seated guilt.
But then, she remembered the faces of the Cenobites back many years before, seeing them in their human forms, slain whilst trying to protect her. There wasn't the slightest hint of evil in their faces, especially him...certainly not him. The minute they exchanged glances across the room back at the Channard Institute following his regression back into a human being, she could see in his eyes, those vivid ice blue eyes of his, that he was once a good man. She could tell instinctively.
So what had changed him into the inhuman creature he was now? What had driven him to open the box? She never really knew. Perhaps he was not all that different from herself? Maybe he too had seen his fair share of trauma? His eyes certainly held a certain amount of sadness when she had looked into them. Eyes which had witnessed such evil, such cruelty...needless cruelty. She would not have been surprised if he had sought out the box to escape a tormented mind.
But also, as well as feeling such sympathy and regret for the handsome man he had once been a lifetime ago, Kirsty felt a draw toward the monster he was now - almost an attraction, a desire for him. He was frightful, abominable - grotesque, yet somehow she could not help but find him beautiful. She could see the desire burning within those supposed inscrutable and passive eyes...eyes which used to be as blue as the skies.
He had promised her so much, tempted her with the pleasures of his world, yet she also defied him, and escaped him. But he kept pursuing her, relentlessly - never ending, unstoppable. Was her life-force truly so captivating? She really didn't think she was, so why did he keep on pursuing her?
Maybe he had been right all those years ago when he had told her, "So eager to play - so reluctant to admit it." Maybe she did want to be with him in his world yet could not resist teasing him with her reluctance to admit her desires?
She realised quite quickly indeed; he had been right all along.
"...Something to remember him by..."
She hugged the box close to her chest again, feeling the warmth of it yet knowing of the coldness it held. She wanted to experience it, as much as it scared her and she wanted him to show her. Her fingers, now working to their own accordance, began to run along the gilded patterns of the box, caressing it it, solving it. Her desire and passion, as well as past experience, helped her along and it was not long before schism opened for her, and soon she was seeing him come forth to her.
"...Something to remember him by..."
His eyes were still surrounded by a mask of sharp pins, and they fell upon her...those gorgeous dark eyes piercing into hers as he gazed to her. The minute she saw him she dropped to her knees, kneeling before him and lowering her head, not daring to look in his direction. She heard him breathe her name, his voice still the same, calm yet cold, though filled with longing.
"Kirsty,"
On hearing her name spoken by him, Kirsty shivered but she still did not look up. "I give myself to you," she whispered tenderly. "I am yours."
The room was filled with silence for what seemed an age, and her head was still drawn to the ground as she sensed him coming closer to her. She knew when he was near when she felt the cold leather cassock he wore brushing against her as he circled her.
"You may stand, Kirsty. You need not bow to me. It is not necessary."
Kirsty nodded slightly and got to her feet, standing opposite him, though still refusing to lift her head and look into his eyes.
"Look at me. Let me see you." he murmured softly, taking his hand and cupping her chin, forcing her to lift her head.
She had no choice now but to look into those fantastic ebony eyes, and the minute contrasting brown and black had locked onto one another's she could not tear hers away.
The pin-headed Cenobite smiled slightly; his eyes shown no sign of emotion though, but his touch and smile was so gentle and loving, even as his hands grasped at her face harshly all of a sudden. Then without prior warning, the Cenobite lowered his face down and placed his icy lips on hers softly. This was a rather unexpected turn, though not an unpleasant one and Kirsty found herself returning the kiss, placing her inquisitive yet trembling arms around his neck.
His pins scratched against the tender flesh on her face as their lips moved in an steady yet passionate rhythm. But she did not care. In fact, she welcomed it.
Minutes passed, yet they felt like a whole millennia as the kiss grew more hungry, passionate and exploratory and so she let out a whimper of disappointment when he broke the kiss he himself had forced onto her and shrank away slightly. Though his eyes remained transfixed onto hers.
"Do you await the pleasures with renewed enthusiasm, my Kirsty?" he breathed.
Kirsty nodded slowly, her voice a tender whisper as she replied. "You were right. I was just in denial...before."
The Cenobite Prince once again brought his hands to her cheeks and cradled her jawline. There was an element of what she could only describe as love evident in his touch.
"No longer, Kirsty." he said approvingly. "This banal world has offered all it can, and you, in realisation, have finally relinquished your attachments to such a limited existence, and give yourself freely to us...to me." Another sweet yet possessive kiss was placed onto her lips before he pulled off and said; "Come, Kirsty, join me. I long to show you such exquisite pleasures."
Kirsty did not have to think twice when he shrunk away from her, giving her some needed space, he grandly offered her his hand. She at once took it, her eager fingers entwining with his.
She was now at last allowing for him to lead her through the Schism, to learn about the indivisibility and limits of flesh alongside the being she once ran from, to a world where she would remain together with him forever...as two of a kind.
The End...