Chill of the Unforgiven

"I am a very patient woman; but that could go either way," she said with a sneer. "Unfortunately for you, my patience has not gone in a pleasant direction. Not in the slightest." she turned and paced back and forth, with an unforgiving air about her, whilst her dark robe fanned all around her feet, giving her a mysterious air.

  "Please-please, Pandora!" cried the small man tied to a chair, stopping her pacing. 

  “I see you somehow got rid of your gag. All the better.” Pandora remarked nonchalantly. “I was going to hurt you immediately,  but then I remembered what my mother always told me, ‘patience is a virtue, Pandora’, so I decided to wait, to plan, and to see if you showed any regret for your many actions. And Clark, when I didn't see any, well, then I really started to plan.” 

  A whimper came from the man called Clark, “what have I done that caused you to act this way?” 

She shook off his question with a simple shake of the hand.

  “Pandora, you’re not as evil as everyone thinks you are. Prove them wrong,” Clark said in a hopeful whisper. 

  She chuckled, a high merciless sound, “oh darling, no. I'm much worse.”

Clark’s voice cracked, and a sob echoed in the air. Tears streamed down  his face. 

She leaned close and grabbed either side of his chin with two fingers, and moved his bruised face into the light. A crooked smile creeped over her face. She dropped his face, pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned her fingers. 

  “Dora,” he croaked.

  She turned and slapped him across his face. “Don't you dare call me that name.” She said in a deathly cold voice. 

He looked at her sadly, “Still haven't gotten over that, huh?”

  Pandora took a deep breath, “I always preferred the name Pandora, I feel it fits me better, don't you? I mean she was one of history’s greatest villains, dooming society with famine, death, disease, all from a little curiosity.” She chuckled, “it was all the gods fault of course, they used her as their pawn. I, however, refuse to be anyones pawn.”

She flipped her dark red hair behind her shoulder, her dark blue eyes glinting in the faint light. 

  “Darling, I will make you suffer. Slowly, painfully, as you have made me suffer,” Pandora remarked cooly. 

  “You know, I once thought myself in love with you. I loved you so much.” Clark commented with a sob still prominent in his voice.

  She smiled cruelly at his admission.

  “You thought that you were in love with me?” she asked, sending a chill down his spine. “What made you realize you didn't?” 

  He swallowed hard. “I realized everything everyone else said about you was true. Your cruelty was carefully hidden but when I looked for it, I found much more than I thought capable in a human being of your kindness, and your patience,” his voice cracked at the word. “That's when I realized I could never love— I could never love a monster.” 

 She chuckled. “We both know I have never had any room for love in my heart.” she replied with a sigh. “I could fake it well enough. You yourself must recognize that fact.”

  Clark nodded slightly, and started crying again. 

  “Ugh, really? More tears? You think this is painful? Darling, you have no idea.” 

  Pandora pulled off her robe and let it fall to the floor. She leaned down and pulled a dagger from her leg. She stood and started cleaning the blade with a simple white cloth. Its hilt was encrusted with large ruby's glinting in the candle light, its metal dark and menacing.

  She stopped for a moment and tilted her olive colored head to the side, her hair moving with her head. Her gown, the color of a ripe blackberry, clung to her curves, radiating an aura of regal mystery.

  Fresh tears came to clarks eyes as he thought of the woman he loved. Now he truly knew that woman was dead. The figure in front of him now was the one who killed her.

  “God, get me out of here please,” Clark prayed in a whisper.

  Pandora let out a harsh laugh. 

  “You pray now too? You are full of surprises.”  

  She moved to a nearby table, the heels of her shoes clicked loudly on the marble floors and echoed around the small, dark room. She set her dagger down and adjusted it meticulously. She turned back to Clark quickly. 

  “Are we going to keep chit chatting or are we going to get down to business?”

  “Why, Pandora? You weren't raised this way” he asked through his tears.

  “As I said, I am nobody’s pawn, I refuse to be like my goodie-two shoes mother. Do you know what happened to her? She died. While she was helping children out of a fire!” She took a deep breath. “I grew up watching my weak parents. They taught me to be meek, patient, kind, loving, to move out of the path of others. Growing up that way, people took advantage of me. Telling me to do things for them, and when I said no, they reminded me of what my parents taught me. I didn't want to be their meek little prey. I was tired of being hunted. So I decided to become the hunter." She finished coolly. 

  Clark let out a pathetic whimper. 

  “How are there so many demons inside you?!” Clark asked.

  “We all have demons, I just choose to feed mine.” she said with a smile in her voice.  

  The tears that had welled in clarks eyes, now spilled over. 

  “Crying makes you weak!” she shouted.

  “Crying means I care! Don't you realize that?” he insisted with a sob. “I trusted you. I wanted to spend my forever with you.”

  A hint of uncertainty flashed in her eyes but they quickly hardened again.  “Well then you can't exactly blame me, can you? It was your mistake.” The smile returned to her voice.

  Clark took a deep breath, “I pity your choices.” 

The crooked smile was to her eyes now, “pity my options, if you must.”

  “Who is making you do this?” Clark asked, looking into the eyes he once loved. 

  “I am no one’s pawn. I’d kill a thousand men before I became a slave to one of them.” her hands curled into little balls of pure and unadulterated rage.

  “I'm not your first, am I?” he whispered.

  “My first what?” she asked with feigned innocence.

  “Your first victim.” he answered faintly. 

  “No. no, you're not.” she said simply, with a laugh in her voice.

  “Wh—who?” 

  “Do you want an itemized list? My father was the first. I put on a pretty good act for his funeral didn't I?” her eyes lit with fond remembrance.  “He found out about my actions. I wasn't quite at murder then, but I did do some pretty amusing things. My own father thought I was a monster. He was right of course, but it still hurt.”

  Clark gasped, “you–you're the one who killed your dad?”

  She shook with silent laughter, “I think we've caught up enough by now, don't you?” 

  She walked over to the table and pressed a button. Lights turned on, blinding Clark. He looked up, and saw a glass dome lowering over him. The dome settled on the floor, and made a hiss as it suctioned itself to the ground. 

  Pandora walked over to Clark, the sound of her heels muffled. She showed him a little pad with a large red button on it. 

  “You could have avoided this, you know. You simply learned too much. I can’t have you spreading rumors about me. Once I press this button a gas will fill your chamber. I won't hurt as you die. After all, I still have a soft spot for my best friend.” her body shook with anticipation. “Oh, how I have waited for this!” 

His body shook with sobs. 

  “After all, revenge is a dish best served cold.”

  She pressed the button and dropped the pad to the floor. She took one last glance at her best friend as thin green gas filled the glass dome. She turned with a psychotic smile, and walked away.