Mind Games [Behemoth and Millie]

[Gildarts]

Taking interest had proven to be a direct display of weakness, but after his many years at Impel Down, Behemoth had developed a good idea of where the line of humanity was compromised and crossed into torture. A sickening pity rose in his stomach for the weak girl he had thrown on his motorboat's cold-as-steel flooring.

The monster's snake eyes faced forward as he came upon the homebound coordinates that he followed with ease. A large rock resembling a colossal and chiseled iceberg grew near as his own machine tore through the thrashing waves. A freshly cast shadow fell upon the pair before their presence was submerged completely within the enclosed island.

Behemoth slunk into the darkness of the creeping cave. He had found this washed-out, underground rock and somehow -after a short amount of time- had learned to call it home. The preset torches immediately flickered on as the boat whirled into the rocky docking port and the dim amber light revealed room to be a luminous blend of silver and gold.

The lair dwelled with the damp and salty scent of ocean, the rush of the rigorous breeze had been lost in the hollow mouth of the cave as they traveled into a narrow passage that lead to the main cavern. Clinging droplets of moisture dribbled from crystals that lined the ceiling and reached from the floor as glistening sharp spears.

Behemoth left the motionless girl in the swaying boat, though the land lover was bound to awaken and soon get irrationally seasick. With a distinguished squint and scoff, his eyes swept the lifeless cave. Going into hiding had been a challenge for him too, yet it had quickly become easy when he managed to hijacked a pirate ship. Mutiny? The monster now stared at the rewards.

Under the cover of the completely enclosed great rock, and at the same time looming overhead despite the undeniable height of the ceiling, lay a port of pirate ships. He had "accumulated" about fifteen, all in pristine condition and all towering over him. It almost appeared as though he was forming an army, yet he had not kept the crewmen and had coerced them all to walk the plank. Every. Last. One.

Some might consider it murder, but Behemoth thought a pirate was only as good as his ability to swim, or die valiantly with their ship. No one had chosen the latter, despite his very generous offer of freewill.

With a fling of his legs, the urgency in his hastened clatter was emphasized by how carelessly he crunched the mountains of gold treasure underneath the toe of his boot. Reaching for a glass he stirred an elixir together and rejoiced as the fluid slithered down his throat.

The crippling tang of the aftertaste filming on his tongue caused him to cringe with puckering remorse as he set the pear-shaped glass back on the wooden feast table that was had been arranged, rather unfittingly, in the middle of the lavish room's golden grandeur.

Still, an ominous tone remained flickering in the torchlight, as the kneeling man gripped his stomach and stood once more. With a swift glance over to the girl, he confirmed without his power that she merely remained in her previously sunken position and her body had begun to droop into the nooks and crevices of the raft's floor.

With a smirk, Behemoth thought of the many pirates he had triumphed over. Nearly ten-thousand men, and I decide to save one girl? That's much too sentimental... What had gotten into him?

After lifting Millie to a propped up position, and later unsatisfactorily placing her down on a leather couch, the serpent-eyed, black-haired secondary brought his forehead in close proximity to the woman's and spoke to whomever was listening. "Well, now you know where I live."