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Take her closest friend, confidant, and occasional partner in crime for example: Someone who might have teased, but always with a smile. A friend who occasionally encouraged Sarah's habit without judgement, without regret, and with her own degree of curiosity for this particular pleasure. | Take her closest friend, confidant, and occasional partner in crime for example: Someone who might have teased, but always with a smile. A friend who occasionally encouraged Sarah's habit without judgement, without regret, and with her own degree of curiosity for this particular pleasure. | ||
So when Sarah was piled into her friend's crappy little car and shuttled off to the Demolition Divas club for "just a few drinks and taking in the sights", Sarah couldn't protest too terribly much. The sounds, the sights, the sheer, unabashed, unashamed spectacle of cutting loose and wrecking | So when Sarah was piled into her friend's crappy little car and shuttled off to the Demolition Divas club for "just a few drinks and taking in the sights", Sarah couldn't protest too terribly much. The sounds, the sights, the sheer, unabashed, unashamed spectacle of cutting loose and wrecking... well, anything you wanted for the fun of it... it was intoxicating. Seductive. Inviting. | ||
This was where she belonged. | This was where she belonged. |
Revision as of 22:39, 6 March 2022
Afraid of Herself
Sarah had always felt... different.
She liked breaking her toys. Not because she was violent or angry, but because she liked feeling strong. Of course, she was always careful when she did so, so she wouldn't get caught. She'd often explain the missing toys as given away, or lost, or otherwise innocuous explanations for why they so often disappeared. As she got older, the urge never left. If anything, the pull only felt stronger.
But so did the guilt.
If budding serial killers were often picked out at an early age because of dangerous, destructive behaviors... what about her? Was she some kind of monster in waiting? Was she going to turn into some kind of violent sociopath? What about all the videos and pictures she'd kept? Her heroes were Wrecking Belle, Crush Hour, and of course... Belah Nain. Of course, her fear and anxiety kept her from getting close to the Succubus of Smash. What if Belah sensed something wrong in her? Picked her out as a monster, a threat to friends and loved ones? She adored Belah, but couldn't bring herself to attend any of her shows.
Meeting Your Heroes
Sometimes your best friends are the best worst influences.
Take her closest friend, confidant, and occasional partner in crime for example: Someone who might have teased, but always with a smile. A friend who occasionally encouraged Sarah's habit without judgement, without regret, and with her own degree of curiosity for this particular pleasure.
So when Sarah was piled into her friend's crappy little car and shuttled off to the Demolition Divas club for "just a few drinks and taking in the sights", Sarah couldn't protest too terribly much. The sounds, the sights, the sheer, unabashed, unashamed spectacle of cutting loose and wrecking... well, anything you wanted for the fun of it... it was intoxicating. Seductive. Inviting.
This was where she belonged.
And when her friend's car ended up on the stage, ready to be destroyed by Belah Nain herself? She felt that hunger come up from somewhere deeper than it ever had before. Her friend was cheering, screaming for Belah to smash it into junk. And Sarah was right alongside.
And Belah looked right at her. And smiled.
Something passed between them in that moment, and Sarah felt something surge inside of her. A rush. A wave of euphoria and joy and belonging that drove every other emotion she was feeling to even greater heights.