"Well not anymore; I've stolen him from you."
"You stole him?" Demetria repeated, shocked.
Really?
After everything, she chose to believe that?
Alright, I'll play along.
"Yep."
"You thief!" Demetria accused, screeching loudly.
"Guilty as charged; he's mine now," I mock-confessed, raising both of my palms up in surrender.
"You scoundrel; you're the reason he looked so lost yesterday with that other whore. She's part of your schemes too! She's your partner!" Demetria added as if she's piecing everything together. She's had her ah-ha moment.
I'm so proud!
Fake tear.
Irina? My partner? Eh, why not...
Now let's make this story a little more interesting.
"That's right; she's my partner. When you walked in last night, we were in the middle of hypnotizing him," I confessed dramatically.
"But she was practically naked," Demetria stated, shocked again. It was time to take this thing up another notch.
Initiating Fucked-Up Vault #303 in my mind, I commanded it to open and spill its madness.
"That's right she was...she was...she was using her witch-tits to lure him in!"
"Devil worship!" Demetria gasped. "But I stopped you!"
I smiled evilly. "You were too late; if only you had gotten off on the 15th floor with me, you could have saved him."
"I could have saved him...I could have saved him! You tricked me...with your sorcery, made me go up to the 16th floor first!"
"That's right; I played you with my eyes," I widened my eyes and twitched my head, strictly for artistic purposes though.
"Don't stare at me!"
Taking a step closer to her, I chanted slowly, "Look into my eyes...look...look at me!"
"No! No, I won't!" she screamed, backing into the door, looking desperately at the ground. Anywhere except my eyes.
We needed to change that.
"There's no fighting this, Demetria; sooner or later, you're going to fall for the power of...the power..." I stumbled to think of something good. Then it hits me. Genius! "The power of the Lesbian Witches Council!"
Her head snapped up and she gasps as her jaw drops in horror. "Lesbian? NO! No, I won't be possessed!"
I did something weird with my hands, jiggling them above our heads. "There, I've done it!"
"What?" she asked worriedly.
"I've sent Irina a message. She's on her way over here...now!"
"Irina?" she screeched, confused.
"Witchtits," I quickly reminded her.
"No!" she screamed again.
God, she's making this easy. It's as if she's playing too.
This was fun.
"That's right. Soon her naked breasts will be shoved into your face and a ritual that sacrifices your love of cock will take place," I informed her, looking away dramatically.
"My love of cock? My love of man...Xander!" she cried in disbelief.
"Especially Xander! He'll be gone forever, and the only thing you'll ache for from now on will be pussy!" I purred breathily.
"NO!"
"And titties!"
"NO!"
"Yes! Now look into my eyes!" I demanded, taking another step closer to her.
"No, I won't. I won't let you cast a spell on me!" She melted herself onto the door; even I felt trapped looking at her.
Why didn't she just unlock the door and leave if she's so 'scared'?
Whatever! This crazy bitch is not my problem.
"Are you going to stop me?" I asked.
"I will. I will do anything to save the love I have for Xander. Your sorcery won't stand a chance, not against the power of love!" she announced loudly, looking up at the ceiling as if love is there hanging.
Oh, well, the fun shall continue.
"Look into my eyes; Irina will be here soon." I purred breathily again, leaning closer to her.
"No!" she screamed, looking back down, her curly hair flying over her face. "No!"
Streams of tears explode from her eyelids and swim ferociously down her face, ruining all her makeup. It's not pretty anymore. She didn't look like a fucked-up pageant contestant anymore; instead, she looked like a mental patient who trapped herself in a room filled with makeup and decided it was pretty time.
Only it wasn't, far from it. She slumps down the door, landing on the floor on her ass.
Still crying.
Jesus, did I do that? I looked at her as she choked on her sobs, her hair now caging her in.
Fuck, yes I did.
Okay, bored now, and her screams were starting to give me a headache anyway. I caressed my forehead and sighed. "Alright, alright. Calm down. Fucking hell!"
"No, lesbian!" she choked out in the midst of her sob.
I want to laugh, but I hold it in. "Calm, the fuck, down."
"I do not want to be a lesbian!" she announced nasally.
"I was just joking with you." I reassured, leaning over her.
"I can't be a lesbian; I love Xander," she sobbed. "I love Xander; I can't love him if I love girls!"
Fucking hell. And she had her ass planted in front of the door too. Without kicking her out of the way, there's no way to escape.
That actually wasn't that bad of an idea. I pondered for a moment before completely disregarding the idea. I wasn't that violent or that cruel to abuse a distressed, love-sick fool. I had compassion.
Really, I did.
"I'm not a girl to you," all of sudden she began to sing.
What the hell?
Was singing her coping mechanism?
Holy fuck, I've driven her to her breaking point. I was going to be held responsible for her break down!
"But I'm a woman to me," continuing to sing behind her curly vines. "All I need is Xander, because I love Xander."
"What the fuck?" I snapped in disbelief. "Is that Britney K?"
"I'm not a girl to you," she sang again, "but I'm a woman to me."
"You already sang that part," I informed her.
"All I need is Xander, because I love Xander," she continued her fucked-up melody. "I'm not a girl to you..."
I rolled my eyes. I couldn't look at this bitch anymore. "Yes, I know; but you can't just repeat the lyrics. There's more to the song than those two lines. And Britney never sang about loving Xander!"
I had to get out of here before she started another verse.
"But I'm a woman to me," she continued in her low, meek voice. I felt my body starting to have the shakes.
"Please, I'm begging you, don't sing anymore!" I cried. "I can't take it!"
"All I need is Xander-" she continued again, but loud knocking interrupted her.
Thank everything good and holy. I sighed in relief.
"What's going on in there?" a voice yelled through the door, Demetria stopped crying, turning towards the door. "Mother?"
"Demetria!" someone shrieked from the other side. "Demetria, Mommy's here!"
"Mother!" Demetria yelled, struggling to get off the floor in her high heels. She finally got up and unlocked the door, opening it.
"Demetria!" the older lady in the violet rose dress yelled. She held her arms out and Demetria slammed herself into them, crying hysterically on her shoulder. What a mother. There for her kid, even though her kid was old, probably thirty. She'd raised a thirty-year-old head case.
"What happened?" her mother cried, then looked at me accusingly. "What did this whore do to you?"
Ugh, excuse me? I don't think so!
"What did you just call me?" I snapped, striding out of the bathroom toward them, and stopping a step away.
"Don't you speak to me...and don't you breathe a word of this to anyone...or else I'll sue," she hissed through her teeth as Demetria sobbed on her shoulder.
Again, excuse me? I don't fucking think so! I'd had enough with these crack pots threatening to sue me.
I had no money anyway, but that's not the point. It's the principle.
"You'll sue? I'll sue you and your fucked-up, bat shit daughter for harassment and stalking, you stupid bitch!" I snapped at them.
"What did you just call me?" the mother hissed in disbelief. "How dare you!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. That's not your real name?" I yelled, then faced Demetria. "Demetria, what is your mother's name again? Oh yeah...Acid Queen!"
Her mother gasped loudly and pushed Demetria away from her embrace. She took out her cell phone from a pocket next to her ass and dialled. "Charles, get in here now!" she ordered.
She disconnected and shot me with daggers from her eyeballs. "How dare you!"
I cringed. "How dare I what?"
She pointed to her demented daughter. "You...you trapped my precious Demetria!"
"I didn't trap her; she came in voluntarily!"
"Lies!"
"Nope!"
"Why would she want to trap herself inside the bathroom with the likes of you?" she spat out in disgust.