Everything seemed to be lightening up, from the gloomy sky, to the expressions on Ivan and Mr. Jones' face. Although there was a bit of an argument at the begging over who was capable of better navigation - inexperienced Toris or rusty Mr. Jones - it was decided that the senior would drive. Toris wasn't in the mood for arguing anyways.

Having no belongings, Toris had only packed Ivan's things - they now rattled along in the back of the car while Mr. Jones drove the car down the rocky road - and Ivan had brought his scissors in the car with him. The large sharp objects made Toris very uncomfortable but he spoke not a word to his master for fear of being punished for something stupid. However, Ivan seemed to be treating Toris fairly better now. Toris wasn't sure why, but he assumes it may be due to his mental breakdowns that occurred every now and then. The demon within Toris seemed to have snapped his sanity in half like a carrot.

"Is England pretty, daddy?" Ivan piped up from beside his slave, in the back seat. The sunlight that broke through the thin glass of the window pane made the deformed side of his face glow and sparkle like tin foil. His eyes glittered just as brightly but with a sense of actual glee to them. Toris felt awkwardly glad that he was happy for once.

Keeping a grip on the black leather wheel, Mr. Jones casually replied, "In some places. A lot is a bit gloomy and full of wind and rain." This seemed to dampen Ivan's spirits, so the man added, "O-oh! But, only in some places, as I said, boy."

"Ura~!" Clapping his large child-hands, Ivan turned his body and peered down at Toris with puppy eyes. "Manikin! It's going to be so fun, da? We'll be so happy!" That said, he threw his thick arms around his slave and pressed him into a warm and loving hug. It was a bit awkward, and Toris saw Mr. Jones monitoring him from the rear view mirror. Out of politeness, he merely hugged Ivan back and gave the space between his shoulder blades a few pats. "Yes, master. It will be all you ever dreamed..." He promised in a daze.

"Oh Manikin! You better be right!" A grin splashed across Ivan's face and turned from childish to evil in an instant. "You better not mess up any of my happiness." He warned.

Toris took heed. "Of course, master! I-I'd never ruin anything for you, sir..." He murmured softly. Fear crept up his spine and made him fidget awkwardly. Suddenly the demon inside him seemed to be whispering and he moaned with horror. Not even knowing why, Toris clutches his chest and bashed his own head against the window. Repeatedly, thuds split the air, and giggles bubbles from Toris' smiling lips.

Angry and yet mortified, Ivan ripped his slave away and gave him a smack to the head. "Nyet! Bad Manikin!" He hissed furiously, making Toris lay down in the car with his feet facing the window and his upper body halfway upon Ivan's lap. It was easy-access for Ivan to restrain him. "Be good." He commanded.

Through his insanity, Toris found his obedience and obliged, although he had to keep himself occupied by chewing on the edges of Ivan's loose shirt. Either the man-child didn't notice, or he didn't care, for he made no comment or complaint.

After a while of this, and Mr. Jones getting into a very boring story about befriending a lonely mouse while he was a prisoner, the car finally pulled up to a stop. They had arrived at a humongous place that neither Ivan nor Toris had ever seen before. It was the airport.

"Come on boys. Let's go." Mr. Jones walked in and bought three tickets. The two younger boys clung to the adult. So many people wandered there, and Ivan hid his face with a hint of misery. It seemed like forever before a nice sounding lady announced that they had permission to board. He got in a line while the boys clung to his shirt in a sense of fear. Finally, after what seemed like forever they got on the plane.

"Slave... I'm sc-scared..." Ivan said, and Toris nodded in return.

After a very long plane ride, where Ivan wept and Toris got sat on the whole time. It was rather annoying but he didn't want to face the wrath of his master and his fear of planes. They landed and Mr. Jones got a nice cab, and all three men were driven to a mansion.

The place was huge. Toris climbed out and went to the other side, opening the door for his master. As his master stepped out, the trunk unlatched and he went to the back, staring at the house the whole time in awe. He grabbed their small amount of belongings and went to the door.

"Mr. Jones... I need the key." He said to his elder after he parked the car. Mr. Jones nodded and fumbled in his pockets for a rusty old key. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. The inside of the mansion was amazing; a huge stairwell greeted them first.

"Here we go" The man said. "To your right is an old church hall your mother converted to satanic. To the left is the kitchen. Upstairs is a living room, a bedroom, and several always that I don't remember. Oh! There's this one guy, he's a real helping hand. His name is Herman." Mr. Jones laughed nervously. "I'll make you two dinner, just why don't you settle in?" The man wandered off before the two boys could say anything.

"Yeah! Come on Manikin. This is a new home! Isn't it exciting?" He giggled "Now let's get us a room with a nice big bed." He said happily. "And we can snuggle all night and mommy won't get mad at-..." His face hung. "Mommy..."

"It's alright master... she probably went to hell. She'll be happy there." Toris smiled softly and kissed his chin, and walked by his side. Ivan wandered with a pouting face, making sad whimpering noises at times.

"I'm sorry master... I was sad when my dad died...too."

Glancing over, Ivan gave his slave a sympathetic look. However, it was coated over with the icy remnants of his own selfish sorrow which kept him distant from the genuine pity a normal human should feel. He patted Toris on the head gently and smiled. "I'm sure your daddy is happy in hell too."

Toris gritted his teeth and ducked away. "My father wasn't a bad man." He tried to explain in a calm tone. "He didn't go to hell. He would have gone to heaven."

"You're an orphan. You wouldn't know." The man-child sneered. "Know your place slave." He went on, and suddenly his hand flew on its own and struck his slave across the face. Red blossomed on Toris' cheek and spread out in the shape of a handprint. "Stupid slave." Ivan hissed.

From the corner of his eye, Toris saw Mr. Jones watching them. He made no move to reprimand Ivan, but a look of sadness touches his eyes ever-so-slightly. "Hey..." His clear voice echoed in the cavernous mansion. "Why don't you two take a look around. Pick out rooms for yourselves."

Sticking out his lower lip, Ivan loudly stated: "Manikin is sleeping with me." He then giggled dementedly, and the deformed side if his face crinkled where it neared his mouth. Toris eyed it, no longer with disgust but with mere annoyance.

Mr. Jones didn't seem bothered at all by the prospect of Ivan sleeping with Toris, but he did seen a bit wary of Toris sleeping with Ivan. "Just make sure Manikin behaves." He warned in a darker, more fatherly tone than usual. As if Toris would try anything on a demented, man-sized child! As if he could set his standards so low as to even bear any amount of affection for the creature who stole everything he ever had!

Instead of saying any of that, Toris merely smiled pleasantly and nodded. "Of course I'll behave, Mr. Jones." He swayed slightly and made a curtsying motion. The demon inside him giggled, feeling pleasure at mocking the elder man, but Mr. Jones took no heed of the slave's sass. Merely nodding, he went into the kitchen and started making himself food - Toris had no idea why the kitchen was stocked - which was a gross sandwich full of meat and greasy products.

"Hungry, master?" Toris inquired softly. "I'll make you something too, if you would like..." He figured that Ivan couldn't ask for anything fancy at the moment, since they just moved in. Besides, who wants fine culinary at bedtime anyways?

Luckily, Ivan did decline. Instead, he merrily requested, "Come to bed with me Manikin!" and took Toris' wrist in his large hand roughly, pulling him up the stairway.

The whole home, although smaller than the first mansion, was just as beautiful. Old flower pots say outside every windowsill with overgrown lavender and morning glory, the petals wilted and tired beneath the obsidian sky. Ancient wall paper flecked every hallway, depicting cute animals and innocent boys playing with toy trains, and every now and again a pillar with an art sculpture would appear. The art was more disturbing than anything else Toris saw - of course, he and Ivan didn't venture into Mrs Braginkis satanic church room - depicting skeletal figures and moaning faces, writhing in agony and self-resentment. It really bothered Toris. However, the overall beauty of the Victorian-style decor seemed to make up for the freakish ugly aspects of the house.

After not very long, a matter of minutes really, Ivan stopped in front of a wide room with a Queen-sized bed displayed through the opened door. It was a shade of chalky blue, and looked as soft as lambs wool. There was an ancient dresser standing grandly beside the bed, and above it there rested three shelves. Upon each shelf, a multitude of what appeared to be hand-carved music boxes rested. Ivan smiled wide and strolled into the room. He bent over and ran his fingers across the aged, gray carpet, then stood up and touches the flawless surface of the wall. "Here," a whisper fluttered from his lips, so soft and monotonous it was as if he were seized by a trance. "This here will be our room..."

There was a small bookshelf leaning against the right wall of the room, which brightened Toris up somewhat. It felt like he hasn't read in forever. "It's a nice room, master." He commented dully as he made his way over to the books and pulled a thin childish-looking one out and held it in his hand. It looked like a fairytale. He smiled; he loved having older people read those to him as a child. "What's that?" Ivan snapped behind him. His voice sounded grouchy all of a sudden, and when Toris

peeked over his shoulder he saw that his face was just as much. "Pay attention to your master.

Sighing, Toris dusted the book off and rose to his feet. "Excuse me, sir..." He mumbled in apology, glancing down at the book still and trying to read the title. The leather was too marred to make it out anymore. "Master..." Before Toris could control himself, he was asking, "May I read to you?"

It was like neither of them were thinking before their responses. Mechanically, Ivan said "Yes." although Toris wasn't sure the child was even sure what reading was. "I'd like that...very much, Manikin." He hummed and patted the mattress, causing dust to flutter up into the air, then spiral back down like gray snow. "Sit by me, though."

Doing as he was told, Toris took a seat beside his master and began to recite the fairytale. It was an interesting story, about a girl named Everline, and a world of perfection.

"Everyone bore no flaws, and looked as perfect as queens, kings, and gods. However, one day a creature ventured into the perfect world who was horrifically ugly. His body was marred with strange scars and tattoos, his nose was wide and crushed against his face, and he was missing an eye and some of his toes. Naturally, he was shunned by the people, but, however, always helped those in need. Unfortunately, those he helped began to get flaws as well - none nearly as horrible, but little flaws all the same. After a while, the townspeople began enraged. Seeing the man as demon, they called for his head. Everline set out with the intention of assassinating him for the gold reward, but instead chanced upon him lamenting in front of a puddle of water. It saddened her so much that she turned away and left him there. The next morning, however, the man was caught. The townspeople strung him to a pole and threw fruit and feces at him. They beat him. Then, they burned him alive. Everline was the only person in the town who was sad. She was the only one who wept, and as the burnt body began to rid its self of the smoke surrounding it, the townspeople were overcome with mortification - every one of them turned just as ugly as the man. All...except for Everline. Now the blame was on her. They deemed her a witch and flogged her upon the same stone steps leading up to the dead mutant. She died. But as her blood dripped down the steps, the man opened his eyes and broke free if his scorched bonds. He went to her frozen body and kisses her lips. From then on, everyone became normal - not full of too much flaws, but not perfect in beauty - but the mutant chose to stay the same. Rather than let Everline pay the price to gain beauty he never had, he kisses her once more and breathes life into her body. She returned, the last perfect being - an angel - and he the last of the most flawed, but their hearts were so strong, and their minds so pure, that when they went hand in hand before an alter to request marriage, not a person made a sound that wasn't happy."

Toris smiled as he finished his story, setting the book on the black nightstand to the left of the bed. He looked up at his master. "There. Did you like that?" Passion bubbled inside him, an after effect he got from gaining aloud.

Instead of looking joyful, Ivan had tears in his eyes. Toris supposed it was because he'd never heard a real fairytale before, one that handing been watered down for babies, but then again Ivan killed people so the violence shouldn't affect him this way.

Perturbed, Toris asked, "Master, what's the matter? Your face is red... Are you okay?" and he laid his slender fingers upon Ivan's skull and pressed them into the sensitive skin. It was indeed warm but it didn't feel like a fever.

"F-fine..." Ivan replied shakily, the little tears creeping down his face. He stares at his hands, which were balled fists in his lap, then brought one to his face to wipe the tears and finger the deformed side of his face. "Ugly..." He murmured. "Manikin! I have a command for you!" Ivan's voice suddenly skyrocketed.

Squeaking, Toris flinches a bit and sighed. "Yes, sir? Anything you want." He watched Ivan wipe the remains of the tears away from his face.

"Kiss me."

Silence filled the empty spaces, and Toris bowed his head respectfully.

"Master... I don't think your dad would like it if I wa-" Toris was interrupted but a hard blow to the face.

"It's because you think I'm ugly! Well I am ugly. Like that man. But you don't love me like Everline. That's why I made you just as ugly as me." The boy sneered, Toris' calloused hands touched the scar on his face, that blinded him completely in is left eye. Sorrow crossed his features and Ivan growled.

"Stop being so sad slave!" Ivan's fist started to fly down upon him, and Toris snickered, and grabbed his wrist with super human strength. The child gasped, and fear crossed his own violet eyes. A cackle formed deep in the slaves throat and he grabbed his other wrist, crushing them as the master began to cry.

"M-Manikin! Come back Manikin. Y-you're scaring me! Stop! Please let Manikin come back..." The child wailed.

Something caught Toris' eye, and he looked up.

A mirror. He dropped his master, who fell with a shaking thump. But Toris was too bent on looking into that mirror.

His face looked that of an animal. His neck was twice it's normal length, and it was as if he had fur made of his own flesh, arched in a menacing way. His mouth looked like it was slit to the back of his skull, and fangs protruded out, sharp canines on every tooth. His eyes looked as if they were clouded over in red, showing nothing but the embodiment of blood of those children he killed...

His hands were claws, nails sharp as a cats. He looked taller, as if his body had become longer and slimmer like a sausage dogs.

"Master..." He looked back at Ivan in horror. "Is this what I look like?!" He shouted in fear.

"Nyet. I smash mirrors. They show...what the demon has really done to me. Who... we really are now." The boy sadly walked to the mirror, and stood in front of it.

"Aren't I hideous?" The master stated. Peering in, he saw nothing in Ivan's violet eyes. His nose became longer and slimmer, and his head became rounder."I have a macaw in me. That's my demon. Yours...looks like a ferret...demon. They control us... at times..." Ivan hung his head. But Toris was still registering the monstrosity he had become, and tears fell from his eyes. Tears the colour of blood.

"Why...why did you do this to me?!" He screamed at Ivan. The boy flinched hard and bowed his head. "I wanted to die! I needed to, I don't want to be here, on this earth, a slave! I wanted to be free, and now...I'm a monster. A disgusting monster that loves to ki-" a scream erupted from his throat, and he clutched his unbeating heart. Tears burst forth and he wept. Shaking and crying.

"Manikin... Be nice to your demon. OR he'll hurt you." Ivan touched his hair softly and hummed a sad tune. Ivan kissed his cheek and wrapped his arms around the slave.

"Little John from the big castle

Plays with the little boy

Snip, snip, snip

off goes his head

Bright red, Bright red

Little John from the big castle

Plays with the little girl

Stab, stab, stab

She loses her sight

Bright white, Bright white

Little John from the big castle

Found another friend

Slash, slash, slash

Straight through his tummy

Out his sides

Red and yummy."

"Mommy sang that all the time. I'm not the first generation of Scissorman... twenty generations of Braginskis. The thirteenth...was the first. His daddy... Quinten, betrayed and murdered his son. It's said their corpses are buried here somewhere...in the mansion. Quinten is a shame for betraying his son and our family cult... Natalia and I... were the first who murdered to live." He sighed.

"The first of us was Theodore who was part of a demonic cult who praised a God called "Great Father" and was very afraid of death. So he would abduct children within the country of England and use them in demonic rituals, sometimes included cannibalism and massacre; cause believed that he would gain immortality by doing so. However, this only left a curse within the Braginkis family: for each generation of the Braginskis, a demonic child would be born into the family and continue the massacre Theodore had started many years ago... It's very sad. Scissorman started thirteen generations later. Heh, thirteen..." Ivan hung his head. He was obviously saddened by the fate of his family.

"So...you're... It's been like this for years? That's... scary...children...innocent children..."

"Uh huh. And now every generation we're born demonically. Nata and I were supposed to. But it didn't work, and we were going to die. But in the end, we achieved immortality... Well I did at least..."

Toris sat there for a few sad moments. He never knew... That Ivan had no choice in the matter...

He pulled the boy closer and kissed him gently on the lips.

Ivan stiffened up and blanched, not knowing what to do. It was obvious he hasn't been expecting the kiss, and his eyes closed in bliss upon gaining it.

After a brief moment, Toris pulled away. He stared down, waiting for a reaction and unsure of whether it would be a violent one or not. "M-master..." He rasped shakily, meekly, eyes flickering up to meet his.

Bright lavender connected with red, seeming to tie together the two boys in eternal knots. Ivan then proceeded to turn bright pink, and, as if he didn't understand himself, a wry, cautious smile crept across his face. "Manikin..." He said, barely audible. "...thank you..."

The slave just nodded his head quietly and looked away again. Why had he kisses Ivan anyways? Toris' heart felt very light and fluttery, and his throat tightened as he choked back tears once more. He knew that if he cried, Ivan would hit him though, so he tried to hold it in.

"...I-I feel funny inside."

"So do I."

Whispers echoed in the old and unused room, and Ivan experimentally tugged his slave nearer to him, and held Toris' frame to his chest. He slowly rocked Toris in his arms like one would a baby, and ran his hand down Toris' own scar very softly, only the fingertips brushing it. "I'm so glad I didn't kill you..." He murmured and he shut his eyes.

Feeling awkward, Toris pulled himself away. "M-me too..." He was barely able to choke out. His voice felt incredibly dry and the demon inside him seemed to be laughing at him. Ivan suddenly looked so beautiful, and it made no sense at all to the young slave. The obscenities that marred one side of the child's face became broken pieces of a marvelous piece of art, and the normal side became an innocent angel, glowing in the light of Toris' adoring gaze.

It was the demon. It had to be the demon causing Toris to feel this way, otherwise he was completely insane on his own. Toris tried to fight the demon within him and push it from his mind, but it only gave him a headache so he soon gave up. He wouldn't allow the demon to win completely, however. He figured it could control his thoughts and make him think Ivan was perfect, but it couldn't control his actions and make him kiss Ivan again. It couldn't...could it? He sighed, feeling so conflicted.

"Remember that time I had you sleep in my bed," Ivan was suddenly speaking, "and mommy came in the next morning and saw you laying on me and dragged you away, punished you?"

Toris bit his lip and nodded. He remembered all too well.

"W-well..." The demonic child leaned back so that his head rested against the headboard. "mommy punished me for that too." Toris didn't say anything, since he knew Mrs. Braginskaya had indeed struck her sons face for claiming he loved his slave. "She made Ivan lie down and she hit him with a belt. Maneken was in the attic then, she'd just taken him there..."

A frown crosses Toris' features. He hadn't known this. Mrs. Braginskaya seemed to love Ivan too much to hurt him...but she loved Natalia more. Toris felt his lungs dry up.

Continuing, Ivan said quietly, "S-so whenever Maneken acted like I was so selfish when I saw him again, it made Ivan feel bad. So Ivan didn't stop hurting Maneken."

Toris voiced no words of regret - he knew the past was in the past - but he sincerely wondered that if he had acted more welcome to Ivan if he would have been spared beatings, and becoming a demon. A sigh made its way through its nostrils. "I was...starving...though..." He muttered in defense.

"Well mommy left marks on Ivan's back and butt! And some of them never went away. Now Ivan's even uglier than he started out..." Sinking into his pink scarf a little bit, Ivan allowed tears to bud in his lavender eyes. His body quivered slightly, reminding Toris of Raivis. "Then, in the bath, Maneken didn't even notice. And after Maneken went insane and hit Ivan...but Ivan wasn't as mad as he should have been...because half the blood was spilt by mommy; Ivan just let it dry there on his skin." The man-child laughed darkly.

It was hard for Toris to believe, still, that Mrs Braginskaya would beat her son, and he bit his lip. "I-I'm sorry..." He whimpered softly, not sure how to react to what he was hearing. He felt a little sick to his stomach, and drew his legs up to his chest, holding them.

"You don't believe me?" Ivan asked, and his voice was ice. His arm pulled back to hit his slave in the face.

Screeching, Toris shrank backwards and held his hands up defensively. "N-ne, ne, master! I believe you!" He yowled, but Ivan's hand struck his forehead anyways. It stung, and Toris thought he felt the top of his scar swell a bit. "M-master!" Tears appeared in his cranberry eyes.

"Stupid, selfish Maneken! How dare you call me a liar!" Another blow fell, again on Toris' scar, and then a third made the whole thing puff up. The slave started crying in agony, curling into a tiny and tight ball.

Ivan began to fumble with his own shirt to take it off. "I'll show it to you! I'll prove it to you!" Eyes siltted with insolence, Ivan tore the fabric from himself and wadded it in his fist, chucking it at the wall. He then proceeded to turn, facing away from Toris with his legs tucked up beneath him. "Look! Look, I'm not a liar!" His desperate voice demanded.

Sniffling and wiping tears softly, Toris peeked through his fingers and looked up at his master's backside. Indeed, as Ivan had said, there were marks - scars - that would likely never go away. Long, rectangular, pink strips laced the child's skins where the implement he'd been struck with cut too deep. Toris almost felt sorry for him, until he remembered the scars Ivan had left on his back, and remembered that his were ten times worse.

So he didn't speak a word.

A desperate voice broke the silence. "See them Maneken? Aren't they awful?" Ivan asked in a whimper. He tilted his head over his shoulder to peek at Toris, searching his eyes for empathy.

he slaves eyes were cold. "That's nothing compared to what you've done to me, master." Teeth gritted together, he spat each of bitter words out like they were poison. "You need to grow up and realize your pain doesn't matter to the world! Just like mine doesn't." The demon inside him was speaking for him now, and it hummed with satisfaction in his chest at the angry words it produced.

Plump tears formed in Ivan's shocked eyes but they didn't fall. He looked genuinely hurt, wounded; he clutches his chest where the nail of Toris' reality had driven through. "I-I'm only e-eight..." He whispered.

Toris laughed darkly in response and retorted, "You're only pathetic." and then, with venom sizzling within his veins, he pounced on top of his master.

"N-no slave, stop...stop...STOP!" Ivan screamed at the top of his lungs, and plunged his hands into Toris chest, and a screech of pain was sounded, Toris gasped as he felt Ivan's hands touch the demon slithering inside his body.

"M-master...What are you doing to me? Please..."

"Ivan doesn't want Toris to hurt him. You got to stop hurting me...Or I will tear you out of your host and kill you. Stop hurting my family, got it? I'll...Bring kids and Toris will eat them up. That'll be all he'll get, so you'll be fed and happy and leave us alone." Ivan squeezed the demon, earning a cry of pain from Toris.

"Y-yes! Fine, whatever! Stop master! Stop..." Ivan removed his large hands and sighed.

"I'm sorry Toris, but you gotta eat the kids now. Like Nata did. Demons like them alive...So from now on, I'll collect the kids and lock them up in the attic... One at a time until they die...and you can eat them limb by limb... I'll keep them intact for you slave. Your demon needs to become passive."

"No! Master! I can't eat people! Please, no...no don't make me master..." He sobbed "That's cannibalism. No..."

"Shut up slave! I don't care about what you say about it, you're doing that." And with that, Ivan rose and walked from the room. He walked down the stairs and outside.

"Master! Please, no!" Toris cried, weeping.

"Toris, shut up. You probably won't even remember it." Ivan rolled his eyes and shoved the boy to the ground. "Stay. Be a good boy. Kay?" Ivan turned out the gates and left in search of a kid.

Toris kicked and screamed onto the cement, tears pouring like a hot rage before he stormed inside and ran to the kitchen. He shook and fell, laying on the kitchen tile and curled into himself. Weeping.

'You're so weak little Toris.'

Hours later, Ivan came back with an unconscious boy, about his age. Bruises were around his neck and Ivan smiled.

"Here's your fresh new meal slave, his name is Angel. He sounds yummy." Ivan laughed and grabbed his slave's hair, pulling him and the meal boy into the attic.

"Ah. Look. The last Scissorman family left chains and clamps up here..." Ivan laughed softly and chained the Angel boy down. The boy had a thick mop of hair, and started to blink awake.

"No...Mommy! Mommy!" Angel started screaming, and Ivan frowned.

"Let's start with... his tongue." Ivan giggled and plunged his hand into the wailing boys mouth, and gripped his tongue, tearing it out with his bare hands. Screams sounded from the boy as blood leaked out of his mouth. Ivan tore strips of cloth from Angels shirt and stuffed it into his mouth. The boy wailed and cried.

Toris just stared in horror at him.

"Master-"

"Eat up slave. It's so yummy, da~?" Tears fell from Toris' Eyes as the tongue was stuffed viciously into his mouth. The boy chewed the tongue miserably and swallowed. It disgusted him to think it didn't taste half bad. Ivan stood and smiled sweetly, and placed his hand inside Angels sobbing mouth, and patted his head as the wound healed. Then he walked down and left, walking down the steps to his room, leaving Toris with his food.

"I'm so sorry..."

Through Toris' ruby eyes, the world was bathed in gray. Gray walls and gray chains restraining a gray-faced little child with gray tears flowing from the sockets in his head. A chill wracked Toris' body, but the demon inside of him writhed in pleasure and forced him to step nearer to the trembling shape of he boy. Toris felt as though he were dying on the inside - would the killing never stop?

The slack jaw of the tiny imprisoned angel quivered and sputtered incoherent words. It tried to beg for its life. Its face was distorted into agony and sorrow, longing, pleading: Stop! Stop! Oh god, it hurts! Help me, mommy! Mommy... The words rang in Toris' ears as if they were really being said.

Don't be a pussy, Toris. The demon growled into his host's brain saucily. Eat the brat or Ivan will kill us both.

Aloud, the slave screeched, "No! I can't do it! Please, God, get this thing out of me!" He started pounding on his chest madly, and poking his fingers into it, jabbing at his demon and gasping at the pain it caused himself to feel.

The ferret beast took control of him shortly. Toris could hear but no longer feel. He had eyes but the vision was not his. He saw his hands brush across his prey's skin, and heard the garbled screams of the child. His own hands took the boy's wrist in their grasp and held it prisoner while his mouth descended and his lips trapped a finger. The sickening sound of his teeth slowly searing off the Angel-boy's soft, succulent flesh disgusted him.

This is what strength is. The demon yowled, moving on to another finger and ripping it of everything except the bone; it was ignorant to the screams of the innocent boy. This is what power is.

Guilt tore at Toris' dead gray heart and seemed to press upon his lungs with the deadly weight of a stone anvil. He could feel his mind slipping under a black curtain, a veil of darkness. No...this is what...true weakness is... He thought, head swimming and likely making little to no sense. This is what...evil is.

He descended into a world of emptiness, and the screams and sights of gore were gone. He felt like an ant trapped inside an empty anthill - once a grand castle bustling with workers, now a deserted shell of dirt and clay. Faintly, he thought he could feel the demon, but then again it could have just been his imagination.

With an innocent sigh, Toris tried to move. He found that, within this empty anthill, he was in control of himself. He couldn't see, no, but his body felt. It brushed against walls of darkness and felt grooves and smooth rises. The world felt soft and vulnerable beneath his trembling fingertips... To either side of him, he heard heavy, raspy breaths being heaved in and out in unison. He self the objects, and determined then to be ovular shaped balloons. Then, above himself he felt the presence of something. Toris reached up and came into contact with something cold, wet, and dead-feeling. It was horrid.

Suddenly, a feeling of déjà vu slammed into Toris' senses. He knew that feeling. He started to poke and prod around the object more, and wrap himself about it. It was so lonely...broken-feeling and empty, but all the same it was something absolutely sinful.

A light stabbed through a thin cut in front of Toris' face, and the object he had become fascinated with. Slowly, with fear catching in his throat, Toris took a hold of either side of the cut and pulled it apart. He then realized his predicament: through the fabric of his own shirt, he could see the child screaming in the background. Toris was imprisoned, like the demon...inside himself!

The slave wished more than anything that he could scream and let loose his lamentations, but such was impossible. Instead, the disheveled piece of Toris that was a prisoner to his own wretched body slithered to the corner where it hid in the darkness and pretended to weep.

After a while, the boy ebbed back to his senses. The demon was back where it belonged, and he was back where he belonged. Gasping and thanking The Lord, Toris fell upon his knees and grinned.

A drop of something wet splashed upon his cheek, distracting him from his praising. The Angel-boy was bleeding severely. Half of his face had been chewed off - the left side - and he resembled a darker-haired, more innocent version of Ivan. In addition, the child's fingers were missing and there was a large gash in his chest where Toris had torn him open and...and eaten his heart.

"No...oh god no..."

Chains swayed in the room, sending melancholy creaks to echo throughout the room.

"I murdered...a child..."

Ivan was in their bedroom, trying to read the book Toris had read to him earlier, and sipping a cup of tea, when Toris found him. The first thing the slave did was to break into sobbing, his thin shoulders heaving up and down pathetically and his whole frame quivering. The tears soaked his blood-stained face and ran down past his chin, splashing onto the carpet in an awful mingled pink shade.

"Oh good, Maneken. It's time for bed; you took so long." The scissor man sighed merrily upon seeing him, and stood up to set the book and his tea on the bedside table. "You're filthy, so go wash up and then we can sleep together." He went towards Toris, as if meaning to tap his shoulder and encourage him to rise.

Instead, the slave threw himself at Ivan's feet. He wrapped the whole length of his arms around Ivan's ankles and squeezed them while resting his blood-stained face against his bare foot and continuing to cry. "Oh God... Master, please kill me! Kill me master! I can't live anymore! The demons too strong! I don't deserve to live!" He screamed.

Frowning, Ivan bent down and ran his thick, clumsy fingers through Toris' hair. "Now, don't be silly-" He started.

"NE! I'm not being silly! Kill me, damn it, Ivan! You created me...you made me this horrible thing! Kill me or I'll...I'll stab myself in the heart and kill that fucking thing and take me with it! Please- gah!" Pain struck him in his chest and the demon began to hurt him for saying such things, but he didn't care. Once he was dead, there would be no more pain for him or anyone he came into contact with.

For a few seconds, Ivan just stared at Toris with cold, sad eyes; an abandoned baby bird in a viscous storm. "I...I can't k-kill you..." He murmured hoarsely. "I...I love you..." Hands sought Toris' face and lifted it from the ground and thumbs caressed his teary cheeks. "I love you..."

Screaming, Toris ripped himself away, and shoved his master. "Can't you see how much pain I'm in?!" He choked, falling to his hands and knees as the demon caused a stabbing pain to flare up in his abdomen. He wailed. "God!" He called for his savior once more, but no help came. "You don't love me!" The snarl came out of his lips, viscously, and his eyes turned dark and animalistic on Ivan. "Kill me, or I'll try to hurt you...and then you'll have to kill me. You promised." He laughed then, and stood up, shakily.

For some reason the demon didn't object. In fact, it seemed to be snidely laughing at Toris' violent threats, and it relished the look of shock and horror on Ivan's face.

"Maneken...s-stop...you don't want to die..." Pulling his scissors up from the side of the bed, Ivan held them in front of himself protectively. "Stop...M-Maneken I love you! I-I do! Maneken! Toris!" The child's voice grew higher and higher pitched the closer Toris slunk, like a wicked snake sneaking up upon his prey. He slowly rose his head up in front of Ivan and swayed it to and fro, tears rushing down, quivering. "Y-you're just sad! Stop! T-that's an order! Be g-good and I'll treat you better."

"Liar! You say that all the time! We go in c-circles and I have no peace! My life...my life is nothing but an endless circle of torture!" Toris lashed out, and Ivan moved the blades of the scissors in the way of the blow, causing him to cut his arm. He didn't seem to mind as dark red sprayed out, and didn't even seem to feel it. In his eyes, everything was still gray. All the horrid gray...

"Kill me...or I'll do to you what I did to that weak little girl I murdered." He reached into his chest and squeezed the demon. It bit his hand, adding to the pain he was already receiving, shooting up his spine, from squeezing it. "Kill...m...me...or...else..." He tried to advance onto Ivan's blood stained scissors once more, lusting for the blades to pierce his chest and deliver him into heaven's arms.

But Ivan threw the blades away and stood up, stiffly, before Toris. Their eyes met, and for once the crazed look was possessed by the slave and not the master. "I won't kill you, Toris." Ivan stated blatantly. "And you won't hurt me. You're my slave. You'll always be my slave. You can never escape from me."

Fury boiled up inside Toris' stomach. "I...I won't...I refuse to be a slave forever!" He yelled, eyes rolling up into the back of his head from the unbearable, agonized weight of his demon. "I-I refuse...you...you ought to see how it feels!"

With that, he fell to his hands and knees once more, crawled to the bathroom, and locked himself in after slamming the door. Placing his fingers over his head, he tried to come to terms with himself, and what he was willing to do to be liberated from the prison that was his flesh and bones.

If I wrote a story with cannabilism, and made Russia force Lithuania to eat human 27/7 in many elaborete ways, would any of you read it? I'm pretty sure not. But I want to for some reason. I need my phone back so I can write this at other places than school. :/