collar/hound

put a bone in a monster’s mouth and they will crush it / put a head in a monster’s mouth and they will crush it 

She felt her blood boil, felt the anger course through her, felt her limbs grow light, she lifted her hand and held a hundred storms in her palm. Ten thousand arcs of lightning surged across her skin, licking it, caressing her skin like a lover. She opened her mouth to shout but only a snarl came out - she was not a person. A person did not snarl, did not show their teeth, did not rip at other people’s throats. She moved without thought, let her rage carry her forward. Each step was light, an afterthought to action.

She raised her hand.

She was not capable of predicting what might happen, could not calculate the arc of her own hand.

One hand closed around her wrist, another covered her eyes. She knew this hand, she knew it, she knew it, she knew it the way a horse knew its blinders, the way a dog knew its collar, She knew these hands.

She struggled once, trashed against those hands but the anger left her as easily as it had come - as if a sudden cold wind had snuffed out the fire in her blood - until she did not move at all.

He released her wrist first and it fell limply to her side. When her breathing evened out, he lifted his hand from her eyes.

In that moment she was filled with fear. It was not the fear of someone having that much power over her; it was the fear of the trust someone could hold out towards her. She stepped towards him, raised her hand as if it were a claw and flexed it. He did not back away, did not flinch. The beat of his heart did not increase.

“Aren’t you scared that one day I will hurt you?” She asks through clenched teeth because this is the only way she knows how to speak anymore. Pushing words through fangs, a beast pretending to be human.

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Fool,” she said.

And it was true.