𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐁𝐔𝐒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋 [𝟏𝟖+]

viii. eight |

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⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍
SCARLET
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I didn't know what to exactly think of my encounter with Dawson's mother. I believed her though, I believed him. I saw Zeke as a complete threat, faking my love for him and just trying to get through the day. He gotten increasingly bitter and angry, I assumed he was racking his brain wondering what happened when I left to collect Dawson. Everytime he raised his voice at me and said harmful things, deep down I smiled, I had fucked Dawson and that was his worst fear. Everytime he wanted to hit me, I didn't fight back.

Dawson's mother promised me that it was for the best. He hadn't struck me since the first time until now. This was the first time I was picking myself up from the kitchen floor. The last time he struck me or used his powers on me was when I was leaving to collect Dawson.

I leaned myself against the kitchen island, wincing at the broken glass that dug its way into me. "Scarlet," I didn't answer his calls. It was hard knowing I could hurt him back but couldn't. The thing is, abuse is a horrible cycle. It starts out as them promising to never do it again or that they didn't mean it but the moment they see you endure it, it's almost like they feel safe enough to take off their mask. He'd been showing me his true self, he was becoming like his father and deep down I wanted to cry for him but I hated him for hurting me.

He was consciously and willingly turning himself so I wouldn't let myself cry or feel sorry for him. I peeled my shirt from my torso, the scent of my blood filled the air around me as I studied my new wounds. "Please let me fix it." He kneeled beside of me, his eyes slightly wide at the sight of glass lodged into my stomach.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I forced myself to stand, "No it's fine. You've had a rough day anyways." I forced the tears back, my voice was beginning to sound robotic. I had turned off every emotion that I did feel for him and everyone else, if I was being honest the thought of Dawson didn't help me through me the ass beatings.

"Scarlet-" His voice broke as he stared at me from the kitchen. I stopped in my tracks. "A bad day doesn't justify what I just did." I closed my eyes, once again the overwhelming sensation of wanting to cry and kill him came back. I couldn't though, I hated myself for feeling this way. Even though I promised not to pity the man, I did in a way.

I made it to the bathroom, picking the glass from my stomach.

I am so sorry.

Her voice fills my ears and I sigh.

It's fine. I'm okay. I lie.

You can't be taking these things. You aren't in the condition to be enduring abuse.

I felt confused. I wasn't ill or fragile, I was the strongest Succubus and even then it hurt. I questioned what she meant but I didn't say anything. What condition was I in?

Scarlet, they've began the process of weakening Dawson and his father. She sounds stressed and concerned, I knew what she meant. You could easily break someone's mental by showing them their worst fears, horrifying things. It was easy for Satan to snap his fingers and have his soldiers do the work and by the time their execution came around, they wouldn't fight.

What do I do? I asked, clenching the end of the sink counter as the alcohol burned through the slices in my stomach.