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Beautiful Monsters.
I twist his steel bracelets nervously about my wrists as I await his return, it will be any time now. Perhaps I should have just deleted it. I could then deny its existence, and I wondered why I had not thought of it before. His word against mine. Would Master's old friend Noctiserus be clever though and save excerpts of the incriminating journal? He seemed the kind. However what if he hadn't? The computer sat innocently on the desk top only feet from me, it was off. I rose and decided I would hurriedly restart it, it would take but a few moments. I could hit the delete button and it would be over, gone.
The rumbling engine of his Corvette, so out of place in this sleepy, working class, inner suburb was by the front window as my finger sought the start button. I had failed in my mission. My stomach in tight knots, I again resumed my place, eyes to the floor and naked by the entrance way. He walked in, limping slightly, that usually meant he had had a heavy day. I wondered in my jumble of guilty thoughts if ever a day would arrive and he would not limp? Anything to keep my tumultuous mind busy and still functioning in his presence this troubled evening.
I served him dinner, his perennial favorite, steak. He liked it rare and bloody, as he liked all his flesh, even mine. He ate very few of the vegetables, mostly the bread soaked in gravy, and the meat. I felt like I was dining with a lion, or at the very best a barbaric savage. He sat before me his hair in his food, grease from the bone he was gnawing on running down his hands.
I picked at mine. I had every reason to have no appetite, but I forged on. I did not wish him to suspect anything was out of place, there was after all a small chance his distant friend would not say anything to him at all. I prayed fervently to every god I could think of this would be the case.
His cell phone made me jump as I cleaned away the dishes, but it was only his Brother making his usual courtesy call. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing untoward, when I heard his voice so far away in Arhus I wanted to cry. I wanted him to rescue me, but Lidia the actress answered, mouthed her polite hellos and assured him we were both well and happy. Master smiled at my upbeat tone. I was getting better, I had fooled him as well.
The hours lethargic in their progress passed, he flicked through the channels on the television impatiently. He did not speak to me at all, I did not look at him. This had become our usual pattern as we lived in his spartanly furnished, stripped down home, in limbo as he waited for his new home in Arhus to be closed on.
Sometimes I still could not help myself and risked yet another merciless caning to glance at him. He was a beast, but he was still handsome to me, as I knew he was to many women. Sometimes he caught me, sometimes he did not, and occasionally he just chose to ignore it. I could never be sure of his motives.
The scars on his face had almost completely healed, just thin silver traces that enhanced his ruggedness rather that detracted from it. It lent him a certain sense of dubious history, an edgy danger that many found irresistible. His new fast car had promoted his popularity as well, and Birgitte had finally accepted his ring.
He wore his engagement to her like a badge of bravery. His medal of honor if you will. He flaunted his success in the face of his brother and every other unbeliever at every turn. I did not see her often which was fortunate. Birgitte found his working class domicile repugnant, and many of his habits, all could see it but he. He was the proud lion and she his lioness. Every time I saw them together I knew it was she who owned him, and I wondered what it would be like in his new home with the two of them present. I suspected most difficult.
The television screen went black, he had turned it off. I had forgotten and looked up at him last evening, it was so easily done. A simple lapse and I was undone, he administered the pain to my flesh with relish. I was not going to give him that opportunity this night. My eyes were locked fast to the floor.
He enjoyed this, it enhanced his sense of surprising me with things I could not see on my periphery. One night recently it had been no more than a simple glass of cold water. He had poured it over me and laughed, forgetting myself I had looked at him only to again be on the receiving and of his blinding pain. It was his newest game. I had so hoped he would tire of it as he did of many things, but it seemed to afford him endless amusement at my expense.
I felt faint as I saw him rise and make for the computer desk, settling his solid, muscled bulk in the black swivel chair. Again as I had many times that day I prayed to whatever God would listen, promising whoever answered, my religious fealty for life. Most mercenary, considering I did not truly believe in the existence of any religion at all.
The windows startup sound, and the monitor flickered into life. He did book work and accounts, often it was his habit to do them late. He had for the past few months taken up the majority of his Father's responsibilities here in Copenhagen, as Master's elder brother, my savior did, in far away Arhus.
Mr Eriksen senior had recently informed both of his sons he was going to ease into retirement, he had experienced some minor health issues, and he was keen to stand down and give control of his company over to his two male heirs.
There had been a bit of tension over this, Master's father had not been too happy to hear his youngest son was indeed moving from Copenhagen. He had wanted him here in the capital to oversee his many projects, but of course Birgitte for reasons of her own had insisted he had buy her a house near the sea, not some ugly port as she had put it. Of course Master obliged her even if it meant paternal displeasure.
I nervously risked looking directly at him, but I felt safe as I was behind the immense spread of his shoulders which were obscuring much of the screen from my view. He was in the accounting program, writing accounts, some of them for very large sums of money. I guess the extravagance of the Corvette was petty cash to him after all, and I thought of the ring he had given Birgitte. He really did not have to live this way. He just had until now merely chosen to.
With an arrogant gesture of his hand he signaled he wanted another coffee, he drank copious quantities of it. I went to the kitchen. I could hear a car driving slowly along the rear lane way, the tap dripped, he never fixed it. I sighed, not only was I sick with worry, I felt gloomy, but that was not unusual, I often did. I had my reasons, some real, some imagined. Summer here would soon be over, and it would be a return to the gray oppressive clouds, and the ever present cold. This country was as cold as the man who had brought me here. I should have seen it, a fool was I.
"Lidia."
I froze, and died a thousand deaths in that one moment. I emerged from the kitchen I could hardly grasp his coffee cup, my fingers felt like nerveless things. He still sat in the dark room, his email open. I set the cup down, its contents spilled carelessly on the desktop burning my hand.
"What's this?"
A letter was opened on his desk top, an email from Nociserus.
"He says Devil died last May."
