The Boy In The Crystal Ball

Chapter Eleven: Losing

Chapter Eleven:

losing

There was a tremor and ripple of her skin, as someone's warm fingers danced along her bare stomach. They dipped and dived across her ribs, before stopping at the lace material covering her breasts.

A gust of air hit her neck, tickling her fine hairs and making her shiver.

Joanna couldn't feel her body, although she was able to respond to all the sensations overwhelming her. She tried to move her fingers or get away from whatever stimulus was effecting her, but nothing responded to her efforts.

"It's alright," an enriched voice crooned. "You're just going to lay here for a little bit, until the moon rises once more."

Joanna chokes on her own breath, her heart was stuttering inside her chest. The voice was authoritative and deep, it could make her toes curl if she was able to move them.

Those fingertips brushed along her skin once more, bringing with it an electric trail.

"Your body is no longer yours to control, little one." The man cooed, his fingers curling through the strands of her hair. "But I want to thank you for your generous donation; you're quite lovely."

Joanna wanted to spit, scratch and stab this man; the fury he unleashed inside of her was bubbling and boiling, twisting and spiraling low in her belly, fusing with her blood and bones.

"Temper, temper," he tsked. "You're a spirited one, aren't you?"

Joanna bit her lip, muffling the curses that so desired to escape. Her eyes felt like sandbags holding the lids down, she grounded her teeth together willing herself to open her eyes and stare the man dead in the face.

"If you want to open your eyes you should stop fighting me, for I have the control over you now." He chided, dragging a particularly sharp nail down the flesh of her cheek; it grew hot and swollen thereafter.

Joanna wanted to kill him, every ounce of her being was directed towards the hateful feelings he emerged in her. But another part of her, one that was distinct from the rest, enjoyed her anger towards this anonymous stranger next to her. This part of her implored her rash thinking and vengefulness.

And that was the part that scared her the most into subordination to do as he said.

Pushing aside the majority of her boiling emotions, Joanna took deep breaths and counted to one hundred to free her mind and soul.

The moment she recalled the soothing motion of waves on a beach, as it matched her slow breaths, her eyes were able to flutter open. They revealed an orange setting, the glow coming from the bare window and uprising sunset. Her drawers were open, with fabrics and clothes strewn about her floor.

Twisting her neck to the side, she came nose to nose with her culprit. Curls of dark hair brushed against her forehead, as a pair of sea-green eyes stared deeply into her own.

A flash of a memory, one that seemed so long ago placed, popped freshly into her mind. She remembered the feel of cool glass beneath her fingertips, staring curiously into the mist, before finding such an inviting set of eyes.

The stranger cracked a large smile, before a few words echoed in her mind. "You remember me, don't you?"

Though his lips never moved, they brushed against the wall of her brain, caressing the soft organ and touching the base of her neck.

Joanna let out a muffled cry, as her lips felt sewn shut. It was then that she realized how much control he did have over her body, for he never allowed her lips to part, only for her eyes to open.

"Yes, little one, you're catching on quickly now." The voice taunted, before his face buried itself in the junction of her neck. His warm breath bellowed over her icy skin, and she wished beyond anything that she could recoil from his touch. But all Joanna could do was sit there through his ministrations, even as his hands grappled her soft curves, and molded his own body onto hers.

Out of nowhere, Joanna watched with wide eyes as her bedroom door was flung open. It revealed a familiar, lean body with blond ringlets and deep eyes turned down in concern.

That was before they blazed with heat and anger, all of that pent up emotions set towards her.

The man next to her chuckled lividly, before pressing a chaste kiss to her ear. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"

Joanna's body was jerked upright on its own, her feet quickly finding the floor before she could grasp the concept. They took her obediently towards Connor, who stood with his fists at his sides, and held a tense posture. His shoulders were rigid as her arms wrapped around them, and his stomach was taunt while her head was placed precariously there. Tears were leaking out of her eyes unwarranted, while sobs and cries left her lips.

It was like she was a shell of a person or a stranger watching the scene. She knew it was happening, but she had no control over the situation at hand, not even when Connor roughly pushed past her to slam the culprit if this situation in the face.

For a second, Joanna felt the tiredness and weight of her limbs; she could wiggle her toes and feel the chill of her bare skin, before all her control was eaten up by the demon with a busted lip. He laughed and taunted Connor, before a flurry of commotion busted through the doorway. There were shouts and screams, but Joanna watched in desperation as Connor reared his gaze away from her in disgust.

Even she felt disgusted: in herself, the situation, and towards the man who was able to control every thought and movement on her part.

Joanna had welcomed his arms, as they sneakily wrapped around her neck, as if it was for support than a reminder of who held the upper-hand. And she welcomed the misery he put out, as the moon cascaded over her body that night, and her very essence was ripped from her crumpled frame.

She welcomed the lack of oxygen and beating of her heart, as she finally held control over the parting of her soul from the world.