Fan Fiction ❯ Canvas ❯ Canvas ( Chapter 1 )

Heh. Ever write something and then wonder what the heck you were on at the moment? Well, that's what I did. I wrote this at about 2 in the morning, while watching some stupid Jean Claude Van Dam Movie called 'The Quest.'

I just had the great urge to write it, so I did. Even if this is actually over a year old. Meh.

She's a girl, in a mental home, I think. And she is talking about her serial killer Lover-dude. Heh.

Her name can be whatever the hell you want it to be! Yay! Blah.

“He made me his canvas..." The girl said, looking almost proud, extended arms covered in tattoos and scars.

"I was his art, his greatest creation. Each mark he placed upon me, a creation all his own..." She grinned, teeth bared white in a feral grin admist the torn and marked face.

"On me... His greatest works are displayed for the world to see. The others never rivaled me, never came close. After all... He did kill the others..."

She smiled again, that creepy, maniacal grin. She lifted her arms, extending them above her head. Her sleeves slid down her arms, revealing black traceries of vines, flowers. As she stretched, the hem of her shirt lifted, exposing pale cream skin of her stomach, and a sun that branched out across it, dancing across it in a swirling pattern.

"The others... They were toys, playthings... Practice, never taken seriously. It was me, me who he tortured, who he brought through pain to the greatest ecstasy. You do not know agony as I do, you cannot know it."

She turned, facing away and lifted the back of her shirt. On her lower back, a half moon stretched, flowing black patterns crossing with paler scar tissue. She turned sideways, a single brilliant green eye regarding. Her face twisted, the facing black rimmed eye lidding itself for a moment, as if she remembered something.

"It was me who he loved, who he cherished. I loved him as well, loved him with everything..."

The closed eye snapped open, the pupil dilating to a black pin point amidst emerald.

"I am his canvas.. And I will always return to him; I belong with, to, him."

She turned again, her entire body sideways. A leg lifted, the pant leg being drawn back by a vined hand, revealing the skin beneath. Wreathing flames twisted across scars once more, flames that rose from the pads of her feet as if she would always walk amidst fire.

"I was his canvas..." She murmured, falling back on the bed.

"I’m his art..."