As she proclaimed herself to be his. To be the mate of one so many would run in fear of, the storms above her would swirl and rage, the figure dropping slowly from the tree that had acted as his torture and crucifixion for crimes he never committed and yet had had taken upon himself as his only crime in revenge upon the people who damned him. Her words struck deep into the hell that was his world, the lumbering, thin figure approaching her, black tendrils felt caressing her flesh so affectionately and so gently, their touch evaporating the inky cloth she had laced her flesh with in his world, her mask appearing i the same fashion of inky cloth, the red harlequin expression still showing him her self proclaimed devotion to him. She would feel his icy grasp slide along her arms, the figure leaning down to her, the white face splitting apart into those massive jaws before he would steal a passionate kiss from his sweet Sarah's lips, the slick black flesh of the creature's tongue felt caressing her own as the kiss between a monster and his mate deepened. The rains fell harder around them and the trees whined and gasped in the wind approvingly of the love their master felt for this woman.<br/><br/>The moist, jet black tendrils would trace along her flesh affectionately, sliding up along her arms and hips. Sarah would seemingly wake in the bed chamber of Victor Surge, yet the same storm from his world raged outside, the window that gave such a view shattered, the bed dark and tattered the warm light of the house destroyed. The soft scent of potpourri left for the scents of the dark spiraling trees and inky mud. she laid now in the bed of Victor surge confined in his world. Mr.S stood at the window, shaking as he gripped his face, his figure regressing some. He was still so very tall and thin but no longer of monstrous proportion as the smooth white flesh loosened and slid away like the bag it was, a flash of lightning in the wood outside his shattered window illuminating the room a moment, revealing thick red hair and pale flesh, the thin man turning to her laid bare in his tattered bed, his emerald green gaze falling over her, thin lips forming a weak smile as he loosened a red tie from a fine suit, black gloves being slid away from pale hands, falling to the floor with the bag alongside a brick that sat amongst shards of glass on the floor.<br/><br/>"This.." began his soft-spoken voice. His true voice. "is the man beneath the monster you know....Victor Nikolai Surge " The towering slender figured man approached slowly, very gently lifting her mask to kiss her deeply with his true lips, warm and gentle; loving and protective as he settled onto the bed at her side, leaned down to her, his warm pale hand petting her cheek and the luxurious silk of his hand made suit against her shoulder. He was such a warm, caring man trapped in such a bleak world as this. She was his only light in this hell and only drawn into his world could he appear to her this way.