I have my room. Four booths to sit thirty people, all here to watch me. I walked down the aisle and sat myself in the back row, the plush velvet tickling my legs, while the soft birch wood held me upright. I ran my hands along the cushion under me and watched as they placed our chest on stage. Master’s slaves brought the equipment for tonight’s show. Three pieces set down, the heavy black leather wrapped chest, a wooden table and a flat piece of wood left standing up.
I sat watching the burly men leave me, alone the room all to myself. Running my hands from the velvet to my legs I drew myself up to stand, reaching high overhead, climbing onto my tiptoes. Coming down I stepped out of the row and walked to the stage, turning my back and pushing myself up to sit on the ledge.
“I wondah… How many Mastah will bring tonight.”
I took a deep breath squeezing the edge of the stage before spinning around and standing on my stage. I skipped toward the slab of wood from this angle getting a clearer view. Curved in all the right places, the cutout near perfect. I set myself against it, my back to it. The arms of the cutout wrapped connected to the head, so I lifted my arms and placed them behind my head.
Looking around the cutout was just bigger than me. I stared across from me to what was now an empty stage. Master would be there, in his black and gold, those red eyes gleaming. I closed my eyes, imagining the crowd to my right, Master before me.
The crowd was cheering, cheering for me, I could hear it.
Opening my eyes, I sighed licking my lips. The chest, I had to set up. I walked over to the hard wood wrapped in black leather and squatted down to unlatch it. Lifting the top I uncovered the tools for the evening. A small redwood box was on top, I lifted it and walked over to the table setting it down. I went back to grab the silken cloth, black with gold trim and brought that too to the table. It was a runner I laid across the table; the sides hanging over.
Standing in front of the table I placed the small box along the bottom half of wood and opened it. Inside were six daggers. A smile came to my lips, the daggers were sleek, polished and as I ran one against my thumb drawing blood, I knew. They were deadly.
I sucked the drop of blood from my thumb and set the dagger on the table runner. I took the other five daggers out and displayed them neatly across the runner, blades shining in the candlelight. I closed the redwood box and carried it back to the chest placing the redwood box along the side. I then pulled a leather satchel that revealed a gown beneath.
I set the satchel next to the chest and grabbed the gown within. Holding it up I admired the linen so finely sewn. A deep burgundy cloth sewn with fine golden silk, the same gold Master has in his clothing. It was so soft; I rubbed my face against it feeling the texture cup my cheek. It even smelled of Master, the dark death that followed him.
“Mmm…” I murmured as I set the gown reluctantly back in the chest.
“Miss?” A young voice called behind me.
I turned sneering at the sight of the man calling up. Brown eyes, light dusty hair and a boyish face eaten by his own cheeks.
“Basil…” His name a toxin.
He walked towards me, “Good, you remember me. I was-”
“Stop.” I called to him, though he didn’t listen. “I said stop!”
He kept coming, closer until at the foot of the stage.
“Now, that is rude for a slave.” He shook his head, placing his hands on the stage. “Your Master should have taught you better.”
I spit at him, hitting his hand. He glared briefly before putting that ever so fake smile on his lips. He wiped his hand along his green embroidered coat. Pulling himself onto the stage I clenched my coat and looked to both sides of the stage.
“My Mastah teaches me fine.” I scowled at him.
I gingerly moved to the table to find the daggers. Grabbing one in my hand I was shocked to find Basil’s hand right atop of mine. His head against my shoulder, cheek brushing cheek.
“Ah, ah, ah.” His hand clenched my own, the other grabbing my free wrist. “There is a penalty for attacking a Magister. I would think you know that.”
I smiled turning to look at him, those dull eyes, full of malice.
“I know da rules.” I winked at him.
He relaxed, as I released the dagger. I turned my face more his cheek brushing my lips.
I whispered, “Sard off.”
With a quick snap I bit him, a mouthful of cheek between my lips.
“Ahh!” He screamed, his hands releasing me and grabbing his face. “You fuckin’ bitch!”
I smiled wide, spitting the flesh from my mouth, licking the blood from my lips. I grabbed the dagger once more, turning to face Basil, pointing the end right between his eyes. I leaned back and sat on the table, my other hand as support.
“Mastah says I am ‘is.” I waved the dagger. “So… Unless Mastah say’s you can touch…” I pushed myself forward, closer, the dagger right before his nose. “You don’t touch.” I whispered.
“I will kill you.” His words biting through his teeth.
Blood was dripping from his palm, rage and shock shaking his body. His eyes never leaving the dagger.
“You can’t attack a Magister! Your Master won’t be able to stop what happens to you.”
I was about to speak, but someone did it for me.
“Oh? Magister Basil, what do you think will happen to my Sin?”
He turned and my smiled widen. It was Master!
“Your bitch bite me!” He yelled.
“What a terrible thing.” Master shook his head. “Horrible manners Magister Basil. Just horrible.” Master licked his lips. “Sin.”
I perked up and pulled the dagger closer, “Yes, Mastah?”
“Did you bite him?”
“I was scared Mastah. He broke da rules.” I glanced at Basil, eyes returning to Mastah’s reds.
“Interesting.”
“I broke no rules! She’s the one.”
Master raised his hand, “She is a girl Magister. A girl which I own… How does this look? You attack-”
“Attack!?”
“Yes, attacked. What else would you call it?”
“I was speaking with her when… when she.”
“Bit you.” I said.
He scowled, glancing at me, then back at master. Master walked closer and closer until he was at the stage and climbed up.
“It’s a shame of Magister Sidonis. Did you hear they found his two slaves dead atop of him?” Basil nodded slowly. “I wonder what happened to that skinny girl he had with… Maybe she had enough and killed him.” Master walked closer. “Maybe someone saved her from her Magister…”
Master stopped in front of Basil and looked over the man, offering him a white cloth.
“You should clean yourself up Magister. Sin and I have a show to prepare for.”
“I am not leaving! Not until your… Pet is punished.”
Master smiled, “Sin, hand me the dagger.”
I looked down at the dagger then back at Master. “I… I didn’t…”
His red gaze bore through me and I quickly shut up turning the blade around to offer him the handle.
“Thank you, my Sin.” Master took the dagger, running the blade over his other hand. “Punish Sin? She has a show tonight. No, I think the wiser option would be to punish me.”
Master offered Basil the dagger.
“Go ahead, stab me. Take out your anger.”
Master offered his dagger, handle to Magister Basil. Keeping the smile off my lips was near impossible, I brought my hands up covering my mouth and turning away. I couldn’t do it though, I couldn’t look away.
“Master K K.” Basil said. “Punishing your slave would suffice, there is no need.”
“No, of course, no need, but Magister why should my Sin suffer? It is my doing she is the way she is. I am responsible am I not?”
Master shook the daggers handle up and down in front of Basil. His red gaze looking past Basils’, my eyes meeting his. There was so much power in that look, I dropped a hand to the table to hold myself up, my body trembled a grin spilling out from my hand.
“Magister Basil, you will take this dagger and stab me and we will be done with this.” A tone heavy, full of malevolence.
Basil clear his throat and took the dagger from Master, his eyes looking at the blade, a finger running the point. Master stepped forward, Basil jerked back.
“What scares you Magister? Can you not punish those above you?”
“Above me!?” Basil stuttered out. “Master K K, the Magisters of this island make the rules.”
“Then follow. Your. Rules.” Master flashed a smile. “Punish the one responsible. I already chose the tool for it.” Master grabbed Basils‘ hand pulling it forward, Basil fighting back.
The dagger hovered around Master’s stomach, Basil was pulling hard, the dagger not budging. I moved my hand from my mouth, finding strength in my legs again I stood tall, stepping behind Basil, my hands to his shoulders.
“Magestah… Mastah does not die like you.” I cackled. “Mastah is special and makes Sin special.”
Basil’s shoulders were so tense, neck taut and arm shaking. Then he got a good pull the dagger breaking free. I stepped back and gave him space, Basil looking between the two of us. Dropping the dagger he turned aside backing away from both of us, his eyes darting back and forth.
“I will speak to the Magisters’ about this.” He stuttered nearly falling off the stage.
“Invite them to the show when you do.” Master said. “The more the better.”
I walked over to Master, grabbing his arm, squeezing his hand. Basil walked backwards the entire way until he reached the end of the hall and turned to leave. That is when Master turned no anger, nor happiness, just… Him.
“We must change the show.”
Master pulled away and walked backstage, I looked down to my hand which held his, a red mess of blood smeared in my palm.