Fear Deity Girlfriend: Rada (complete)

There’s a place I always try to go, a place between my mind and my eyes. I’ve been visiting it since I was a kid, when things got too hellish at home. I would push myself into a little corner of my own when I felt I needed to escape, and there I first saw the fire. It engulfed everything and made it all shine so bright. There was no cold, no unease, no worry. There was only the fire. 

Growing up wasn’t great, because home was a powder keg of confusion. Sometimes things were fine, usually when my parents were asleep. Other times, there was no room to breathe. In my home, no one was happy, and if you were, then you wouldn’t be for long. It was as if there was a monster in our home that had to feed off happiness, or else it would eat you.

I started working just to get out of the house, and for a while I really enjoyed it. It wasn’t long until the rule of the home came crashing down on me. I couldn’t be happy, not for long. The monster that lived in my home quickly gobbled it up, and the job was ruined for me. 

Eventually, I learned that the fire in that place between my eyes and my mind could be spread. I could take any fire and make it consume what I wanted. I had it burn down my house and kill the monster with it. I watched my house burn to the ground. I listened to the screams, and I was happy. All was good and right. I took my secret with me and went on my way.

I figured that, should the monster escape, I had to leave before it found me. I traveled quite a while until I found a good place to stop. I took a new job, working in the house of a wealthy family. I worked there and lived there, earning a position in the kitchen. The giant stoves there made me feel comfortable and at peace. I called the big cauldron ‘Mama’, and the smaller one used for quick cooking ‘Papa’. Perhaps that’s strange, but I never questioned it. 

It was fine for a while. After all, I had learned to adapt to most situations without question. I’d lived for years with a monster. Surely I could work in a home where the master of the house fucked anything with a hole. I had been warned about him when I was hired; he didn’t care who, what, when, or where, just as long as his wife never saw. I once caught him gyrating against the pork loin we would be serving for dinner. Another time he had one of the servant boys bent over a pile of laundry.

I didn’t like this man. I didn’t like how he swung his power around like some sort of dowsing rod of fear. I pictured the fire between my eyes and my mind, and I felt it asking me to let it out. Next time I came across my master in a manner I did not respect, he would meet the fire for sure. 

I met the master in the kitchen. I was on cleaning duty so the rest of the staff could rest from such a laborious day. The master caught me alone. But I had insisted upon being alone, feeling that today was going to be a good day. He grabbed me, kissed me, forced me down onto my knees while his cock jabbed me in the eye.

I’m not a small man, mind you, and I will not be poked in the eye by a finger, let alone a dick that needs washing. I bit the master, and while he screamed at me, threatening to beat me, I pushed him towards Mama. The fire inside seemed happy to have a guest. Entertaining logs must be so boring. So I offered to introduce the master. He screamed at first, but soon he made fast friends with the fire.

My trial was brief. No one seemed to believe that the master would want to thrust his dick into someone like me. No one even wanted to listen to my testimony, much like the mistress had always turned a blind eye to her husband’s awful manners. My story became quite public, and it drew further attention when it came to light that my whole family had perished in a fire. They called me the Firefly. Sounds far too pretty, if you ask me.

Of course, I admitted readily to my crimes. I told them I’d do it again too. I guess that didn’t help matters, but I felt I should at least be honest given the circumstances. I could shove someone into an oven, but I wouldn’t be a liar. 

The judge sentenced me to life in prison, in a place known as The Hole. It was a prison unlike any other, built by fairies to hold their worst criminals, and it had evolved into a place to hold anyone who could not be let out into normal society again. I thought it was a bit extreme. Just because I burnt a few people who deserved it, I didn’t think I should have to go there.

The Unseelie guards take me at the gates, not allowing anyone else inside. I am thrown into a temporary cell to wait until a permanent one opens up for me. That sounds foreboding, but I am trying to remain optimistic about my situation. If I’m going to be here forever, at least I know where I am.

Unlike most places I have been, The Hole is quiet. There are whispers all around me, like a crisp wind on an autumn morning, but aside from that it feels like the world has stopped moving. There is a hiss in my ears where noise should be, a stillness that unnerves me to my core. I fidget, wanting to fill the air with movement and sound. It’s no use.

I look up and I see a child standing at the bars of my cell. She’s small and petite, with long white hair and powdery grey skin. I am not sure if I am seeing things or not. I never heard anyone approach, not a footstep, not a breath. I want to open my mouth to speak, but feel terrified that I will be heard.

The child’s nose scrunches up, and she tilts her head to the side. “What’re you here for?” she asks.

The sound of her voice frightens me. It’s the voice of an ordinary child, but the sudden noise amid all the quiet rattles me. It is almost as if I had never heard anything before, and this child is the voice of a god. What if she is a god? How can I be thinking that so quickly? How long have I been here?

“Hello?” the child says. “You alive in there?”

I swallow, so my heart slips from my throat and back behind my lungs. “Yes.” My voice sounds strange, like I’ve never heard it before. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m bored,” the child sighs. “You’re new, so I thought I’d come see.” She looks me over with pale blue eyes. “So, what are you here for?”

“I don’t think that’s anything to discuss with a child.” It still feels wrong to be talking, to cut through the silence that still burns in my ears.

“Did you kill someone? Did you steal a lot?” The child’s eyes grow wider. “Or maybe you kidnapped a bunch of people to do your bidding.” She starts to bounce on her heels. “Did you start a cult and make them all kill themselves? Or did you start a cult and make them kill each other?”

“What?” I scoff. “No! I am not charismatic enough to start a cult. I’m not even charming enough to get free candy.” I look down at my body and the straitjacket I am wearing. “I did kill someone, though.”

“Did you stab them?” The child leans closer to the bars. “Perhaps you beat them to death? What with? A hammer? A big wedge of cheese? Or maybe you threw them from something! Stairs? A tree? Did you feed them to a bear to cover your tracks?”

This kid looks more like an angel than a devil, but the things coming from her mouth shock even me. “My god. I thought my mind was out of whack, but you’re quite terrifying with your creativity.”

“It’s better to think about it than actually do it, right?” The child grasps the bars of the cell, then uses her feet to start climbing up. “So what did you do? How’d you murder someone?”

“Look, you’re batty enough. I don’t think you need to hear about my exploits and get any further ideas.”

“My Mama is the warden.” The child is halfway up the door. “I hear all sorts of stuff. You’re probably more sensitive than I am.”

I sniff, then let loose a laugh. “What’s the worst you’ve heard, then?”

“You first. I don’t share unless it’s something good.” She jumps down from her perch and lands gracefully on the ground.

“I set my house on fire with my whole family inside,” I answer bluntly. “But I got caught when I threw my rapist boss into an oven.”

The child blows a raspberry at me. “Fire? That’s it? Who do you think you are, Hansel and Gretel?”

I furrow my brow. “Who?”

“They’re prisoners too.” The kid starts climbing the bars again. “They were adopted, killed their mom, then started cooking and eating people who came to their house.”

“Who would eat people?” I scoff. “We’re disgusting.”

“They said humans taste like pork.”

“You’ve talked to them?”

The kid nods, a proud smile on her face. “Hansel is nice, but Gretel has some control issues.” She leaps down off the bars. “So that’s all you did? Just threw someone into a stove?”

I shrug. “He was rich.”

“Oh,” the child says. “Well, nice knowing you.”

“Who are you? You said your mother was the warden?”

“My mom runs this place. She decides everything, including where you’re going to go in The Hole.” The child stands still for a moment as she looks at me. “She’s scary, so you’d best watch out.”

I’m chewing on the inside of my cheek.“I’m terrified of almost all women, so that’s nothing you need to warn me about.”

“She always meets the new inmates.” The child breaks into a huge grin. “So you’ll be seeing her soon.”

“Duscha!” A voice rings through the air like the deafening peal of a bell. “I knew I would find you here.”

The kid turns, placing her hands behind her back. “I was bored.”

“You’re always bored. Bothering the new inmate, I see.” The voice sends shivers down my spine and makes my asshole feel loose. I try to collect my breath, while my gut churns into a nauseous froth. 

The child steps out of view, towards the speaker. “Yes, Mama.”

Ah, the aforementioned warden, the one I should be afraid of. I stiffen my shoulders and try to sit erect, but I feel as though I will shit myself at any minute. The warden steps into view, standing before my cell with Duscha’s hand in hers. 

She’s tall, probably taller than me, with muscular arms and long, elegant fingers. There is a broadsword on her hip, one that looks heavier than I am. She’s wearing a long white gown decorated with feathers that trail across the ground, flowing backwards into a train. All of this is unusual, but not intimidating to me. What does cause me some concern is that her head is completely gone. Instead, her neck is surrounded by a high collar of spikes that shoot directly upward to various heights. From the center - I suppose issuing from her exposed throat - there are clouds of thick smoke and sparks.

“My, my,” she whispers. “the one who burns. I have been waiting on you.”

I can’t speak, I can barely breathe. There is something about her that makes me both terrified and horribly aroused. 

She steps closer to the door. “I am Rada - but you will call me Madam, Mistress, Ma’am, or Overlord. Not once will you say my name. Is that understood?”

I nod my head. “Yes, Mistress.”

She chuckles to herself. “We will talk again soon. I require a one-on-one meeting with all the inmates, but for now, I must tend to my daughter.” She turns towards Duscha. “Come along, dearest. You can help me shred some things.”

They walk away, and I feel as though I can breathe again. I slump backwards, taking in deep breaths. What was she? My god, it felt like she commanded the entire universe just by standing there. She could have done anything to me, and I would have thanked her for it. I wanted her hands on my throat, her elbow in my back, her heel on my neck. How did she do it? When she stood before me, I felt like I was in that place between my eyes and my mind. She was the fire. 

The silence returns, and I continue to fidget. I am not sure how long I wait - it could be seconds or years. Eventually I am fetched by a guard and taken up a twisting staircase. There are no windows, only walls that feel like they’re getting closer and closer to my body. 

We reach the top of the stairs, and there I am chained to a chair. I am so tightly clasped to it I feel I will never move again. The guard leaves, I’m not sure where. I can only stare ahead, to where there is a wall of black curtains draped from floor to ceiling. I half expect someone to walk out from behind it, but instead, I hear footsteps behind me.

“Koyo Mita.” That powerful voice sighs out my name. “The one who burns.” She walks around my chair, standing in my peripheral vision. “Caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Perhaps if people didn’t scream, you could have gotten away with it.”

“I never expected to get away,” I say breathlessly. 

She hums to herself, then stands before the black curtain. “What did you expect?”

I can only look at her, her powerful body and dominating presence. She stirs both fear and desire in me. I fear her, and I fear my mounting need of her. It’s a strange cocktail of emotions.

“Well, uh-” I take a quick breath before I forget how. “I expected him to die.”

She chuckles, and her fingers brush across her clavicle. “Did you want him to?”

I would nod, but I can’t even raise a pinky. “Of course.”

“Why did you?” She places her hands on her hips.

“He tried to force himself on me,” I answer. “He forced himself on a lot of people. I was sick of it. Sick of hearing about it, sick of dealing with it. It was time for him to go.”

“I take it you don’t regret what you did,” Rada says with a sigh.

All I can do is be honest. I’ll be a killer, but not a liar. “No, Mistress. There’s no reason for me to regret what I did, only the fact that I am here now. Otherwise I don’t think my actions matter.” 

Rada chuckles. Her fingers float around her throat, where the smoke billows out. “That’s a new one. You believe your actions don’t matter?”

“In the grand scheme of things?” I go to shrug but I am stuck to the chair. “No. I don’t think our actions really mean anything. In a hundred years, will it matter? In a thousand?” I look at her, hoping I meet whatever gaze she has. “We’re only dust.”

“My, my.” She strides towards me. “You certainly have grand ideas about the universe. How did you come to this conclusion?”

“The fire.”

Her hands fall to her side. “The fire?”

I nod. “I see it, right between my eyes and my mind. If I go there, I see the fire. I see what it has to say.”

Rada is close enough to touch if I could move. Her long fingers sweep up my arm, her milky white skin standing out against the dark ochre of my own. Her long black nails look sharp, and for a moment I picture them piercing the flesh of my back. 

“You like fire, do you?” Her whisper sounds like it is traveling through my ear and directly to my groin. 

“I need it,” I answer her honestly. “It’s the only thing that makes me feel safe.”

“Koyo.” She murmurs my name in such a seductive way that I grow dizzy. “I have a little job for you.” The restraints holding me to the chair suddenly become loose, and I am free. I sit up and away, but remain seated as she towers over me. 

“I thought I was to be imprisoned.” I gaze up at her, thinking how nice it would be to have her punch me in the face.

“You already are,” she chuckles. “But it is my job as warden to see that punishments are given out accordingly. Your punishment is to work for me.”

I gulp down the lump in my throat. “Why me?”

“Because I fucking said so,” she hisses. She snaps her fingers and I’m grabbed from behind, pressed into the chair again while a group of Unseelie swarm around me.

“Take care of him,” Rada says with a yawn. “I’m going to go finish my nap with Duscha.”

The Unseelie pull at me, grabbing me from all sides. They throw me into a bath of ice water and scrub me clean. They shave my pubic hair off, a horrifying sight to behold, but the results are quite nice. My skin feels raw when I am taken from the water and rubbed down with oils. They cut my hair, shave my face, and force me into a new outfit. I am fitted with a collar that has a chain hanging down from it.

I feel different, almost new. All the old skin has been washed away, the old hair cut off, and my crotch feels cold from the lack of hair. You’d think I’d be worried about why that was done, but it was honestly the farthest thing from my mind. 

The chain attached to my collar is locked to a link on the wall, and I am left alone. I stand there, unsure and anxious as I look around the room. The length of the chain allows me to go to a bookcase, where I see dozens of black tomes written in lettering I cannot understand.

Moments later, Rada emerges from behind the black curtain. She’s wearing a long black robe that hangs loose around her bosom. The curve of her breasts makes the fire grow inside me. I feel it burning and aching, and I love it.

“There we go.” Rada comes towards me and cups her hands around my face. “Much better. See what a good bath can accomplish?”

“Is that what that was?” I chuckle nervously.

Rada’s fingers run through my freshly cut hair, and her nails scrape against my skin. I need to keep control of myself or I am liable to ejaculate in my pants or shit them. It really could be either. I don’t know how to make that sound not like a joke. 

“OK, Koyo.” Rada removes the chain from the wall and holds it in her hands. “From now on, you are at my beck and call. You will do whatever I ask, whenever I ask it. You will serve as my assistant, babysit my daughter - it doesn’t matter.”

“So I’m your slave?” 

Rada laughs. “More like a pet.” She tugs sharply on the chain. “My daughter and I are quite lonesome. Ever since my last partner died, we have been a little lost. You will do until the next wife or husband comes about.”

I am uncertain about what will happen to me, which is not what I expected when I came to be imprisoned at The Hole. It is a strange sensation to be so excited. When I look at Rada, I can feel the fire I always loved so much. Not only is she the fire, but she stokes it within me. I feel lucky, and I can only hope that one day I can be burned by her. 

“Is there anything I can do for you now, Mistress?” I clasp my hands together. “You may ask anything of me.”

Rada’s fingers slip under my chin. “You’re a fast learner. I truly enjoy that.” She gives my cheeks a pinch. “I think I will greatly enjoy you, Koyo. But no.” She lets go of me, grasping the chain. “For now, you are to wait for Duscha to wake up.”

She chains me to the wall again, then opens a door to a closet filled with clothes. She drops the robe she’s wearing, standing naked before me, which is a fate worse than death. I feel as though I may explode. She changes into a dress, thankfully, then places the collar of spikes around her neck. 

“Duscha is your responsibility for today, while I go and deal with other matters.” She smooths her dress out. “How do I look?”

“You don’t want to ask me that,” I breathe. “I fear I think too much of you as it is.”

“You’re trying to get on my good side,” she chuckles as she leaves the room. “Stay put. Like I said, Duscha is your responsibility.”

Some time later, Duscha emerges from behind the black curtain. She rubs her eyes from sleep and yawns loudly. Turning, she sees me and she narrows her eyes. “Oh, it’s you.” She walks up to me. “What are you doing here?”

I kneel in front of Duscha. “I am your mother’s new pet. She said I am to take care of you today.”

She frowns for a moment before a smile crosses her face. I see that her tongue is black, and her teeth look mighty dangerous. “How great!” She removes the chain from the wall. “Well, first things first. Do you know how to braid?”

I shake my head. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Well then, you’re going to learn!” Duscha tugs for me to follow her. “It’s really easy, and you should know how to do it since you will be with us for a long time. Mama loves having her hair played with.”

I frown. “Your mother doesn’t have a head.”

“For now.” Duscha makes me sit down. She pulls out a chest, and inside is nothing but the heads of dolls. It’s an alarming sight at first. She places one of the heads in my hands. “OK now, divide the hair into three strands.”

“Why do you only have the heads?” I look at her curiously.

Duscha rolls her eyes. “Because the bodies creep me out. Come on now!” She pats the top of the doll’s head. “If you want to be any good, do as I say.”

“Yes, Lady Duscha,” I sigh.

“Mama has a very high standard,” she sniffs. “If you are hoping to impress her, you're going to have to do your best each and every time!”

“She told me that the two of you were lonely,” I murmur. “It must have been hard losing your father.”

She stares at me. “My father didn’t die,” she scoffs. “I mean, he did, but that was a long time ago. It was my stepmom who died.” She plops down beside me, showing me how she braids her doll’s hair. 

“Oh,” I murmur. “Sorry to hear that, still.”

“You said you burnt your family.” Duscha glances up at me. “Why did you do that?”

I watch her hands as she braids the doll’s hair. I try to replicate her movements, but I get lost somewhere in the middle and have to start over. “I didn’t like them.”

“Why not?”

“Curious thing, aren’t you?”

“You don’t just burn people for no reason,” she insists. “What were they like?”

I frown as I try to braid again. “No one was ever happy.” I cross the three strands of hair back and forth, back and forth. “No one was ever allowed to be happy. There was a monster who ate it all.”

“Did you feel better when you killed them?” Duscha sets her doll’s head aside. 

I nod. “Yeah. I did.”

Duscha leans back. “Same with the rich man you threw in the oven?”

“Why are you asking me such things?” I laugh.

“You’ll see.” Duscha moves so she’s sitting in front of me. “Braid my hair. If it’s terrible, I’ll make you do it again and again.”

I chuckle, combing my fingers through her hair to separate it into three strands. “What about you? What do you like to do?”

“Whatever I want,” Duscha answers bluntly. 

“Well, besides that.” I mess up and have to redo the braid. “Anything specific, besides thinking up horrible ways to die?”

“That comes naturally. It’s not exactly something I do.” She sways from side to side, making it hard for me to get the braid even, let alone together. “I suppose I like climbing things. I also like jumping off things.”

“Would you say you’re reckless?” I grunt in frustration when the braid messes up, and I have to start all over.

Duscha kicks her legs. “You’re not pulling my hair. That’s good.” She hums and she leans back, stretching her neck so she looks at me upside down. “You know what? I think I’ll train you.”

“Train me?” I laugh. “Train me for what?” I tie off her hair at the bottom with a ribbon. Hopefully that will be good enough for her. 

Duscha grins widely. Her mouth is completely black, save for her teeth. “To be my mom’s next husband.”