Stuck With The Devil

Blood, cold, darkness, death...

She was going crazy every single second!!!

When she was sure that he was truly gone, she erased the memory of their intimacy and walked to the empty entrance, her gaze fell on the fallen door, a bit horrified by a little realisation.

At the centre of the door, was an already dried brown blood, she looked around recalling the event that happened not long again, how he had thrown the door from where it was meant to be.

She erased the memories again and focused on escaping, but she could see through the entrance that the corridors were thick and dark, her eyes rolled to the lantern in the middle of the dungeon she walked to it and held it tight, scared that any slight mistake might keep her in the dark. She couldn't bear the dark but the dark could hide her but the fact that Elvis was still able to spot her in the dark rebuked her decision to put down the lantern.

She needed to escape! She kept that in mind.

Just some hours to this time, then she should be at Artheca and with Oswald trying to take down his father and his dukedom.

It was that simple. Escape at all means!

If it meant injuring herself to deceive others since they want her alive, she would.

Then after, after her arrival in Artheca, she would complete whatever mission she had not finished for a while now. Even Oswald was not aware of it.

She rubbed the blood which was still dripping from the corner of her eyes, she was partly used to her non-stop blood but she was not used to it being taken care of this late. If she did not use that medicine alleged to be made by her mum, she would continuously bleed and...but she forgot to take it along. Sarah did not remind her! No one thought she would be injured let more causing self-inflicted injuries.

Remembering that she had to escape quickly, she looked everywhere for the last time before passing through the door, but she was stopped by the sudden cold that swept down her whole body. She ran slowly to the dungeon aware that if she ran too much, the lit lantern might wallow to darkness, her eyes met her robe and she picked it, a wave of sudden anger tampering her mind as she recalled who took it off from her.

She dropped the lantern and put her robe on, though it did not reduce the coldness, she felt a little secure, she took the lantern from the cold floor and turned back to escape the palace only to be met by that scary violet eyes. At that moment, the lantern fell from her and her eyes widened, scared that she would be overcovered by the dungeon's darkness but the lantern that had fallen from her hand was mysteriously, still lit.

Seeing that she could still see, she cared less about the lantern but the man that was standing before her. The man that she had learnt to be her enemy kept her away from Oswald. The man that had violated her rules, and the same man that left those crazy scars on her neck. How was he even able to do so? No matter how sharp one fingernail could be, it was unable to press so hard into one's neck to the extent that one could feel it sinking into his inner flesh to his oesophagus. She was even surprised that she was still alive by now after all the whole bleeding.

This man that was standing before her was the same man who was her father's friend. That was impossible! She still couldn't believe that for sure. He could not be the one who had helped her father overcome those wars.

She even felt anger towards herself as she recalled that she was like collateral, an exchange. It was an irony to think she was worthless to her father and useful to someone else. What could this man need her for? It was known that he would not rare children then why all the mistresses?

The most important question and at the same time, heart-burdening was why this man was still alive.

Still, he looked healthy.

The image of her plunging her dagger into his heart and brown blood seeping out of it made her a little joyful but seeing that this man appeared to be even stronger as if... even his previously drenched clothes were off him and were replaced by a breathless looking one.

She should just die!

She did not want to know whatever punishment this man had for her, she just knew she would be unable to survive it.

His looks could tell.

"You looked surprised."

Wouldn't one be?

And why was he talking to her this calm after all she did?

She did not say anything. Well, in the normal sense what could one reply to that statement? 'yes, I am, or, of course, I am, or how are you alive, or why would I?'

Any reply would be fruitless. She did not even want to as she doubt her voice would be able.

Hearing his voice, she looked up at him for the third time, "I hate bold women."

Of course!

Who would not?

Bold women were not home-trained. They lacked manners, lacked ethics, and they did not know how to rear children nor did they know how to keep the household safe or warm the husband up. Bold women also did not know how to face discipline. They did not deserve good husbands and homes. They belonged to the street. They deserved to be homeless.

But that was who she was!

She wasn't the one to tremble whenever a man's harsh tone rings through the four corners of the building. She wasn't the one to stay at home, sitting, doing nothing but keeping the lifeless household safe when her husband is at war. She wasn't the one to wait for her husband's approval to push a portion of food towards her husband's throat whenever he was against eating.

But Oswald never complained! He loved her just the way he was. Even Isaac, her brother had warned her against her behaviour but Oswald loved every bit of it.

But now? That woman in her was slowly dissipating. Seeing this man before her with his cruel aura was enough to keep her mouth short forever or ask for permission if she was allowed to talk.

The man smiled slowly before walking toward her in a flash and tearing apart every single piece of clothing that was on her body. Everything happened to her in a flash!

Her eyes did not catch a thing until she was left naked. Completely naked. The only thing left was her covered moderate breasts and her private part. She shrieked. Felt like the floor should swallow her up in a second.

She was more terrified by the creature before her.

How he slowly dropped her into this state without her blinking-

"Since you are Delilah, there is no need to hide who I am to you," he said, mistaking her terrified look to be that of confusion, "you only need the torture to confess. Well, that is what you have told me many years ago and I won't hesitate to give you those."

She could not talk. She was freezing.

Beyond freezing.

The cold might kill her more than her bleeding skin.

Blood, cold, darkness, death, and nakedness were her fears. Those four things were combined now and were torturing her more than the torture he had planned.

She did not know that even he, knew not that, she was the most stubborn when torture arrives.