Within the Demon's Grip: Part One

Chapter 8

"Don't worry about Sandra," Robin said, offering Natalia his hand.

Natalia shoved it away, sneering, "What the hell is going on?"

Candlelight flickered on Robin's face, illuminating his pale green eyes. Robin's top lip flattened over his teeth in a humorless grin. Natalia felt his eyes studying her, and she felt violated, like he could see beneath her clothes. He raked a hand through his hair and chuckled. "Oh, come on, you must have some idea," he said. "You can't really be that stupid."

Natalia crawled to her feet and dusted off her clothes. She felt disgusting even walking on this floor, let alone sitting on it. What was with this old place, anyway? There were so many people here, and nobody bothered to clean?

She turned her attention back to Robin. "Tell me what's going on!" she demanded.

"He took her." The candlelight distorted Robin's face with shadows, making him look like the villain he truly was.

"Who is he?" Natalia asked, finding her voice small and frail.

Several women turned toward them. Natalia found their expressions unsettling because, like Robin, the candlelight had created a mask of shadows on their faces. The only difference Natalia found was the unnatural color of their complexions-- how pale they looked.

"He is the bringer of great pleasure," a woman with wavy black hair said, her eyes wide and crazed.

"And pain," a blond finished. She appeared very frail, with a protruding collarbone and eyes that looked too big for her face.

Natalia felt irritated by their responses. She shook her head. "That doesn't answer my question!"

Large, warm hands slid over Natalia's hips from behind. A masculine voice whispered in her ear, "Why don't you give it a try? See how you like it."

Natalia's eyes widened. A muscle throbbed in her temple. "If you don't fucking get your hands off me--"

"Sorry. Sorry," the masculine voice laughed, and at once, the hands were removed.

"Just tell me where Sandra is," Natalia said, her eyes pleading with Robin's. "Who took her?" She couldn't understand what was going on. Nothing was making sense.

"He can become like the wind, because he is all powerful," the frail blond said. "Our fragile minds bend to his will. We are merely puppets in his presence, toys for him to play with."

"And what great pleasure it is to be played with," the black-haired woman finished.

Natalia opened her mouth to reply when a scream pierced the crowd's chatter. Natalia felt her stomach lurch.

It was Sandra.

"Shit!" Natalia cried, whirling around and jostling through the crowd. She was sure the scream had come from the hallway.

Natalia found Sandra near the hallway's threshold, sitting on the floor with her back against one of the pillars. Her skin was pale and sweaty, and her hair was severely tangled. Sandra's eyes appeared unfocused, like she was trapped inside her mind. When Natalia came closer, she found a fresh wound—reminiscent of the Gothic woman's—on her right shoulder. The material of Sandra's dress clung to the wound, creating an ugly stain that probably wouldn't wash out.

Natalia knelt in front of her.

"Oh, Sandra," she whimpered. "I'm so sorry. I should have gotten you out of here sooner." Natalia dropped her head, ashamed. "I failed you, Sandra. I'm not deserving of your friendship."

Sandra's jittery breathing broke Natalia out of her thoughts. Natalia looked up to see Sandra on her knees, before her.

"Are you okay?" Natalia cried.