BLUE PLAYER: Grease Paint and Monkey Brains..

My ears are ringing in pulsing waves, interlaced with muted silence.
(What the fuck is going on?)
It takes me a minute to understand what that hellish clown was saying to me.
(It's a game-)
(What kind of sicko plays games like this?)
My temples feel like someone shoved in an icepick, then twisted.
(He asked me a question-)
(Am I ready?)
My restraints dig into my wrists, making them ache.
My anger is begining to swell.
I realize the grinding sound I'm hearing is my teeth, jaw clenched and spasaming. I consciously relax my grimace, raising my eyes to meet his.
(Dead eyes.)
(He knows about blood.)
(We know about blood.)
I swallow, trying to coax some moisture over my dry tongue, throat still rough from screaming.
"Am.."
My throat is too dry to talk, I can feel a small tear leaking blood down the back of my tongue.
(Use it)
I swallow again, the blood making my tongue slick.

"..Am I ready?"

(Screaming)
I feel a clawed hand reaching up from a dark place inside of me, sinking its talons into my heart, feel the hatred pumping through me like bile and oil, surging, tinging everything red.
(Crying)
(Held down)
(A knife)

"Yeah.."

(Over and Over)
(Blood Blood BLOOD!!!)

My hands clench, jagged, like twisted metal.
("No, please! Help! STOP!!")
(A shriek that pierces through me)
My eyes bore into his, red rimmed with hate.
(I'll Kill you you son of a bitch! I'm going to tear your fucking throat out!)
I see his laughing face, capering infront of his nest of maggots, his demon children.
(LAUGH Clown! Laugh when I shove my thumbs in your fucking eyes. when I claw your face from your skull!!Laugh when I bite your still beating heart!!)
(And then I'll Laugh, when your imps turn on you, when you're wounded, when they feast on your corpse with the appetite you've whetted.
Our eyes meet, and I know he knows. Know this is why he does this. Know this is what makes him alive.
My Devil will dance with his Demon.

He Knows.
We Know.

"I'm Ready.."

I grin; a ferral mask that has nothing of humour in it, blood dripping from my cracked lips.

"...Are you?"