Underneath the Moon is Where My Secrets Lie

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Breaking Emeran

     "Look, Ravenous... and, yes, I'll use your demon name. It's a very bad pun, and -"

     "Don't  repeat that word. I'm not here for you to make fun of me, either." 

     I cut Emeran Rain off,  tightening my fist, watching as he winced in pain.

     A small sense of pleasure rippled through me.

     He knew me so well; that flash of recognition in those cruel blue eyes of his told me all that I needed to know about what he's thinking.

      Emeran knew that I was trying to build myself up before I break him down.

     "You're just a sadist," he accused me. "You enjoy the pain."

     "Or, maybe you're just a sick masochist who bounces in between the borders of 'pain given to Raven' and 'pain given to others'. Are you an exception to that rule, like so many others?" he added, baring his teeth.

     He's not talking about other people - he's talking about other rules.

     But how does he know about what I've done? 

     To myself, as well as others?

     "You won't do what I've  come here for, Emeran."

     "I already have started to break you. Just take a look at yourself."

     I really didn't want to. 

     I had on a rumpled black suit. My tie was a bit on the dark side - it was also a shadowy black, but matched my suit perfectly. 

     I had creased leather shoes, also black, and I knew that my hair wasn't the most styled it had ever been.

     I still felt Ren's presence.

     "You broke up with her... Dianne, is it?"

     I felt a hand slip through mine.

     I looked down, but there was nothing there.

     "Don't use her like a weapon against me, Emeran." My voice held a warning note.

     I released his hair, jerking it downward. His head hit the table.

     Emeran wasn't knocked out or hurt seriously, but he still groaned as if I've dealt him a blow to the stomach.

     I gave him time to right himself, and when he looked at me dead in the eye, I asked him a question. 

     "Well, why aren't you... how you usually are... then?"

     Emeran shook his head a little. His icy orbs looked away.

     His dark hair, tangled and wavy, fell into his eyes.

     "They came in. Beat me up. Interrogated me. But I never so much as spoke a full sentence to them."

     "They didn't get a confession, did they?" I realized aloud.

     He shook his head again underneath his black curtain of hair.

     No.

     "WHY WON'T YOU TELL THEM THE TRUTH?! WE NEED A RECORDED CONFESSION!"

     I slammed my hands down on the table - the table is bolted into the concrete floor, if you didn't remember - ignoring the slight burning sensation that raced up my palms.