Queen Of The Damned RP(1 of 2)

Next RP will be up tomorrow but this place does seem kinda dead so I dunno.



“Ones handicap in no way shape or form impairs one’s marvelous hindsight Alice.”

There he goes again - spoon feeding me delusions of grandeur as if it would somehow satisfy my apparent insatiable pallet. Yesterday’s Alice Creed would have been embarrassed to see me laying here in Dr. Klutz office, spilling my guts all over his Victorian décor. My emotions dangling over the lamp shade, my sensibility plopped haphazardly in the bowl of “jelly belly” jelly beans and my pride saturating through the tightly woven fabric of the recently vacuumed floor.

Am I still alive? I ask myself while waiting for the words to flood through my thoughts that describe how I’m feeling. Alive.Dead.Cold.Void.Simply Human
Even I felt a bit disgusted with myself, dabbing fresh tears from my cheek onto a Kleenex that I clutched onto ever so desperately.

“The urge to make people feel the way I feel Dr. It’s … it’s… it’s just so profound and you know, the body wants what the body wants. Choosing not to give in feels like choosing not breath but when I abide – when I abide I feel like I am Lilith Immaculate you know?”

Time for another dab of the Kleenex. I hated laying here in the psychologist office, the way it made me feel made me want to crawl out of my skin. Was it the perfectly dimmed lights that me feel so vurnable.

No – that didn’t make any sense.

Perhaps it was virulent sway in which the Dr. spoke. The next word more potent to than the previous until a sentence from his well educated labyrinth he called a mouth suckered me in with it’s alluring poison. This must have been how Eve or Snow White felt when they bit into those apples. Every minute there is a sucker born, myself included.

“Can you,” I noticed he always prolonged his pauses a bit too long when he spoke, “describe these feelings?”

“How can I put this simply?” Putting things simply was one of my biggest flaws AND my biggest weaknesses. If I could accurately explain my hatred and repulsion to the stench of degeneracy and moral dry rot then maybe people would understand me better. But since this is not the case people assume I’m just some vile fiend or as they like to call it “Sinister Siren” who’s one screw lose short of a full toolbox. That’s simple enough for anyone to understand.

It’s-it’s orgasmic. That feathery tingly sensation that climbs up my spine. I can smell their fear the way a dog smells it. I can read the pain in their face the way I can read my favorite book Squishing someone’s facial features, the carteledge of their nose bending just right under the leather sole of my boot – a moist wet kiss on my inner thigh. To be honest, I can’t tell the difference doc. The pleasure is still there, it’s all the same to me. The pleasure –and- the hunger.

“The pleasure,” there goes that pause again “and the hunger?”

What else is there? We feed to satisfy our appitete, that gives us pleasure and we just eat and eat and eat and eat until we’re done and simply wait until our appiteite is back again. We’re all slaves to it! Like Promeathus in his chains we are bound to our appitete and I think maybe that pisses me off more than anything. More than CZ’s throbbing crotch, more than Hana’s “Oh lookie at me, I’m soooooo kawaii.” Makes me puke.

Don’t you think calling yourself “Everyone’s favorite boyfriend excuse me, girlfriend” makes one sound like some promiscus concubine whore. The last thing women need is people like her running around being all ditsy and sleeping with half the locker room. And shes not even a she! Shes a he but I clearly can’t look it’s picture and call it a he. You know what – lets just call him a she just to make things easier. Write it down in your little black notebook that he is a she.

But I can’t really blame her, shes satisfying her appitete because just like me, just like you and everyone else. That’s all she really has. That’s all anyone really has. But unfortunately for her she fills up on pretending to have two X chromosomes. Estrogen is her fix and the only drug she needs to get that europhic high.

Not me! Not Alice Creed! Nu uh. You and I both know what I need. SWE knows what I need. I mean – isn’t that why we are in here, in this room talking.

“Because you have an extremely high aptitude for violence?”

That’s right! Because I have an extremely high aptitude for violence – nicely put!

“This hunger of yours, what do you think it will take to satisfy it?”

Well doc you know just as I do that you eat until you’re full but as sure as death and taxes the hunger always comes back. No matter how many times I kick-

Damnit, I was starting to tear up again.

NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I KICK PEOPLE IN THE FACE I JUST CAN’T FEEL SATISFIED!!!

Does that make me crazy? No! It’s not my fault, I didn’t make myself this way. I’m a product of society! Society and god’s everlasting creation. When he made me he made me broken. I’m incomplete, obsolete. People like Hana Brightly are trying to be someone completely different someone their not. Me? I’m just trying to be normal.

But No!

No one is putting her on meds! NO ONE IS SITTING HER DOWN ASKING HER A BUNCH OF QUESTIONS!

It’s not fair you know. It’s.Just.Not.Fair!

“What do you think is fair?”

What do I think is fair? I dunno doc, you tell me. I’ve never been given a fair shake in anything. “N-E THING.”

“Just try and think about it, what would be fair to you?”

How about Hana Brightly, the truly crazy one’s personality swallowed up by her despair? How about the pit of my stomach not turning every time I see her smiling? How about her blood seeping through the wrinkles of my fingers as I keep punching her and punching her and punching her and punching her and punching her And Punching Her AND PUNCHING HER AND PUNCHING HER AND –

“Alice! Stop!”

I didn’t realize I was punching the couch pillows. Sorry couch. No I’m not. I watched as he scribbled some notes in that little black book of his again before the small mechanical click in his pen indicated that he was done. Crossed his legs and rested his hand in his lap just like any professional would do before he spoke.

“It is my firm belief Alice, that what you are suffering from is a loss of contact with reality. This usually includes false beliefs about what is taking place and even sometimes. Seeing or hearing things that aren’t necessarily there. We call these hallucinations.

I read over you’re the incident report regarding the airport and a certain CZ Thrust. Your bipolar disorder might be fueling and giving life to this fantasy world that you live in. This is how your mind is trying to cope with living, by crushing the life out of everyone else and yet trying you find a rationalization and reasoning as to why you do the things you do and feel the way you feel.

Also these false beliefs you harbor, are you sure they’re not based on some kind of unfounded fear or suspicion? Is there anything in your childhood or distant past that you feel as if you might be repressing. Anything at all?”

The balls on this guy. He acts as if he doesn’t know my background already but cleverly enough he’s going to make explain it to see if it invokes some kind of reaction I’m guessing. If he wants a show. I’ll give him a show.

My mother –

The tears started flowing again. I looked away as my face felt all droopy-like and I could just imagine how my lips quivered and hands shook.
My mother just left me there. She cut me out of her life like a cancerous tumor. A mistake that shouldn’t have been made but could be gotten rid of. Do you know what it’s like to carry that burden around with you day after day, constantly reminded that you’re unloved, princess of the unwanted, queen of damned!

But no matter. That’s fine! Everything is just FINE!

The kids at the orphanage would steal my bed sheets, hide my favorite lolipop doll and lock me in the smelly, repulsive janitors closet, sometimes overnight. They would call me names I –

- I will not repeat.

Some didn’t really dislike me but, it became the “cool” thing to do. They just pretended to be a monster under my bed, like sheep in wolves clothing.
Faking it all just to torture me.

In a sense that made me stronger. In a way that helped me become the lovely lady I am today. I can be lovely you know? I can be……dare I say…..nice. I can play well with others but not when those others pretend to be someone their not. Like Hana Brightly! I despise them the MOST! LET THEM ALL BURN. LET THEM BE THE ONES LOCKED IN THE CLOSET. LET THEM BE THE ONES TO FALL DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE!