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This has been a long time coming.
You are in the elsewhere and you stand over him, eyes shining dangerous like blades in the dark. He wanted this so badly. Just you and him, alone. None of the others to stand in his way, to steal your time and attention.
No one to snatch your name away before he could have it.
It is strange. To have your attention. You near. But he's lost the fight- you have no reason to give him your name now. He asked many, many times before, and you never taught it to him. He does not understand why. After all, you love him. Whatever the reason, it is too late. He would have no power to take it and bind you, even if you told him now. The umbrella that is his vessel is tattered. Thin metal bent and fabric ripped. The shabby appearance is the same likeness as his soul; it takes much energy to cling to existence like this. He is tired and to eat and rest, but he holds on. He barely has the strength to form words.
But deep-seated obsession still swirls in his very core.
You. You. YOU.
You pick him up, turn him this way and that, peering confused at the wreckage of his vessel. Although he lacks the words, being seen and handled in this state raises complex emotions. He has not felt them for a long time. If he had words for it, he might say it feels shameful. Vulnerable.
It is the first time in a long, long time that someone has touched him. He wants it to last forever.
You. Together with. Him.
But… if he has to be killed, it would be alright if you do it.
You are most pretty when you kill. That would be a nice last thing to see.
But you don't snap his vessel in two. You could destroy it easily. Instead you frown and think, saying words he does not understand.
There is a chance. Instead of letting you to come to a decision on your own, he tries to form words. Perhaps if you realize he is still here, still capable of communication, there is a way to save this. At first it is difficult. He can only make a soft buzzing noise, like a human machine that is broken. Then he can make disconnected sounds. Impossible to understand. You wait. Patient. Eventually, the sounds become words.
"What… you…" is all he can manage. You seem not to understand. He repeats it.
He means to ask what you are. What are you, to make him so interested in you? Or maybe he asks what you are about to do to him. It does not matter. Rather than answer you turn the question on him.
"What you?"
Scarletella repeats it. The question is confusing. What is… he? He has never thought about it. He has always simply been. And has not ever concerned himself with anything deeper. He is a thing of instinct. He is good at killing. He likes you. Why do you ask that? What does he say to make you stay? The question seems so unimportant. Instead, he wants you to tell him about you. That's important. Just like all the important memories he still has. All the times you left bodies in his territory. Fed him. Many bodies. Much blood. For him. All for him.
You are different from others. You give to him.
Sacrifices.
Ah. You look impatient. Yes... you asked something. You will not wait forever.
"…not…know…"
The answer does not change your mood. No pity to be found. You are thinking. Looking down at him. Shrewd and cold.
Being looked at that way thrills him. It's fun. He thinks he will like any way you look at him. But especially when you look at him like a weak thing. He has not felt unsafe in so, so long. Even the pain is fun because it's different from feeling nothing, and you gave it to him!
You ask what he's looking for.
Don't you know? Saying that he's looking for your name… would that make you mad? He doesn't want to be killed so soon, not now that he has you alone and communicating. He wants to talk more. He wants you to hold him more. You seem to like him better when he's weak. Formless.
He pretends and says he does not know.
You respond in that confusing language of yours. Too many sounds. You don't sound sure of him, maybe.
Then you ask for his name.
He thinks. It takes time. His memory stretches back far. There are many holes, and things he should know leak from the holes. Maybe his name is one of them?
"…not…know…"
Is it the truth or a lie? That does not matter. What will you do now? He waits.
You're silent. Thinking. The look on your face is complicated, then you decide.
"Me give you name."
If he had a heart, it would beat faster. He is happy, surprised, grateful. There are not enough words for how he feels.
It does not cross his mind that you might not know what it means to name someone. You gave him blood and bodies. Now you will give him a name.
He tried taking your name. Binding you to him. Together with long time.
Maybe this way is better. If you give him a name, you will have power over him. You always seem to be scared of him. You always run. Maybe if you bind him, you will feel safe and like him and understand that he is good, not bad.
He wants so badly for you to think he is good and stay together with him forever.
You think for a moment, then say something. It sounds more like human language, but he is quick to remember it. Will never forget it like his old name.
"Scarletella." You repeat it. Coming from you, it is his new favorite sound. "Your name."
Scarletella says it back in a daze. It feels good. Words are already coming more easily. His mind is less foggy. He doesn't care what the name is, or what it means. Only that it comes from you.
"You understand?"
"Me understand," he says obediently.
You smile. Then you speak to him more in the human language. They are commands. While he doesn't understand the words, through the connection of the name he can pick up on your intent.
"From now on, you'll be my servant. You have to stay by my side at all times."
Scarletella will do all that and more. He will show you he is good, and useful. After all, you have claimed him.
You raise the umbrella, searching for the words to say it in his language.
"Me bring you," you say, nodding.
He is finally able to project an apparition. He covers it in red. Lots of red, like blood. And your eyes. Happy!
His hands clasp over yours, lifting the umbrella higher for you. Through the name your power flows into him, and the damage to his vessel begins to recover.
Scarletella echoes your words and stares into your eyes: "You bring me."
You look pleased. Is it because of his obedience? You like when he listens and understands? He wants to make you look like that always.
Now it is his turn to provide blood and sacrifices for your altar.
"Great, now let's go." When you move he follows a step behind like a shadow.
Wherever you go, he will follow, holding his umbrella above you.
You are no longer afraid of him. You do not run from him.
You named him. You want him. You like him.
You like him you like him you like him-
That repeats in his mind and soul, same as his new name, same as memories of you. He is Scarletella now, and he is yours.
And, just like he wanted, you are going to stay together with him for a long, long time.