Animal grunts of pain and pleasure, rolling together in one terrible tremor. Like thunder - but worse.
Superfluous drops of scarlet dew. The girl, dead.
I would shiver as a sudden cold embraced my skin.
A cacophony I suffered through the night. Each night. Every night. Darkness enfolding me, like his arms - like the great black wings of my devil's back.
He is not a kind man. Nor really is he a brutal man either, though his looks are incredibly cruel. He is neither good, nor evil, beautiful, nor monstrous - in fact, he is not really even a man. Undoubtedly - and it has to be admitted - he is a sad, tormented and twisted creature, overrun with power and a desire and insatiable loneliness.
All through my life I had sought to fill the void that this solitude had gauged in his heart. I loved him. I adored him. There was not a thing I would not do to have his grave angel's smile descend upon me.
But it was all in vain; I could never give him whatever it was he wanted, could never show him what he longed to see. Yet I still loved him. And it is my bitterest shame that that love has but grown since that time, when I thought time would indeed wither it! I still yearn to heal his scars…But never will I dote on him again, as I did before - I cannot, ever since that day…when I found out what he truly was…
More often that not, it would be a young maiden that arrived back at the manor, draped over his arm. She would usually be around my age, possibly younger in some cases. Vile snake, siren, whore; in truth, he was more like these than she. He was the tempter, the serpent with the silver tongue. But I could not see past my own envy. I refused to realise what he was doing, only acknowledging that he was in the company of other women - and not me - which left a sickening taste in my mouth.
Funny, I can still taste the evil flavour in me…after all these years, I never got used to it. To not being good enough.
There are events - particular and strange - which have always haunted me since their occurrence. I was but a maid, a servant, with no status and importance. But he saw me. And yes, I may not have been a significant presence in his life, but my master…my master saw me. Thus, for reasons unfathomable, I was allowed to witness these things silently - as if I was trusted enough to do so.
Here is a record of unreality; this is a mark of my betrayal.
I hope you are not reading this, My Treasured Lord Yui.