Patient A-3

Chapter 17: Consume Me

Two weeks. That's how long I've been encased in my room. I've hardly ventured beyond my bed except to use the bathroom, and even then I sometimes don't have the energy to move. The thought of leaving my room fills me with dread, for I can't shake the fear that Wrath may be lurking, waiting to pounce on me and pull me back toward the brink of death. Without Cierien and his life-saving blood that night, I would have undoubtfully perished. However, not even the newfound knowledge of his blood-healing properties is enough for me to gather the confidence to step outside my room.

I think I'm depressed. It's been days since I last showered, and each passing day makes brushing my teeth feel like an impossible task. The cut on my hand is beginning to scab, but the lack of cleansing has slowed the process. Thankfully, Cierien has been delivering my meals to my room, although my appetite is a mere shadow of what it used to be. I don't allow him to sit with me; I can't stand anyone witnessing me in this state. I feel repulsive, and my neglect of self-care only reinforces that perception. Lately, I've even struggled to take my medication, sending my anxiety skyrocketing to unprecedented levels. My constant worry and paranoia are eating me alive. It isn't the first time this has happened; these depressive episodes have haunted me more often than I would like to admit. They come and go, sometimes unexpectedly, sometimes triggered, and their severity can vary greatly.

The last time I felt this overwhelmed was when I moved into my first apartment. Back then, I believed I had everything in order, life all figured out. However, once the boxes were unpacked and the room grew still, my thoughts spiraled out of control. I've always struggled with having too much time to think. I must keep myself constantly occupied, or the negative thoughts will slowly encroach. At that time, I couldn't quite pinpoint why I was so miserable, but this time, it was clear. Wrath is the reason behind my despair.

Mrs. Jackson's calls have been nonstop, but I'm too exhausted to answer. I'll return her calls in time, but my phone has gone untouched for several days now. I've also been cold with Sophie. She's not unfamiliar with these episodes, but even she can sense that these are different from the others. I've told her that I needed some space, blaming my parent's death for affecting me more deeply than I could have imagined, but it's a blatant lie, and she sees through it. She's respected my need for space, but if I don't respond to her texts soon, she'll probably show up, knocking at my door. I can't have her here, not with Wrath around. I'll fill her in on my situation one of these days; I'm just too drained right now.

I haven't seen Wrath since that day, not a hint of noise from the room he shares with Cierien. He's kept his distance, and I can credit Cierien for that. Despite his physical absence, I encounter him every night in my dreams, with his crimson eyes and bloody lips. It always concludes the same way, with his teeth ripping into my neck and darkness swallowing me whole. I'm just as powerless in my dreams as I was in reality. I'll never be able to fend him off; his vampiric strength far surpasses any human's ability. Most nights, I wake up in tears, drenched in sweat and shivering from the vivid memory. On other nights, the dreams take a different turn- perhaps even becoming a tad too alluring.

He'll hover above me, kissing my lips gently and telling me how good I am. He'll kiss down my body, lips ghosting over my center, teasing me ever so lightly before retracting back to my chest. He'll whisper sweet, affectionate words into my ear.

You're so sweet, little one. So perfect and still for me.

In my dreams, he spends most of his time sucking and biting at my chest. No matter how hard I try to push him back down, he remains nuzzled against my top half. It leaves me feeling warm yet unsatisfied in the morning. It's the only glimpse of happiness I experience in these trying times- which only deepens the despair I feel. I shouldn't derive any pleasure from it. Sometimes, I catch myself yearning for the nightmares rather than these unsettling dreams, or so I attempt to persuade myself.

Why would I dream of a monster in such an intimate way?

I swear, in the morning, sometimes I can feel the marks he left behind in my dreams. My spotless, blemish-free skin serves as a constant reminder that it's merely my psyche playing tricks on me. I wake up sore in the chest, my cunt wet and throbbing, aching to be touched by him. My nipples constantly feel swollen, but I convince myself I'm succumbing to delusions. I'm so sexually frustrated it's sick. I'm sick. I shouldn't desire it to materialize, but I can't help it.

Occasionally, when awakening from those dreams, I have to fix the problem myself to regain the possibility of falling back asleep. I'll toss and turn, clenching my thighs together, but the throbbing never passes. I'll tweak my nipples, enjoying the faint ache as I use my other hand to trail a path down to my panties. The thought of one of them watching spurs me on. I start by collecting my slick, wetting my fingers as I drag them up and down. I'll rub gentle circles into my clit, imagining Wrath hovering above me as I do- his crimson eyes and bloody lips.

The thought of him touching me in my sleep, using me, drinking from me, and doing as he pleased gets me over the edge. Other times, the thought of Cierien disregarding my request and coming into my room late at night to enjoy himself gets me there. I'll cry out into my pillows, biting my lip harshly to conceal the moans. When the pleasure dies off, I lay ashamed of my thoughts and fantasies.

And even after it all, I'm never satisfied. My fingers are never enough, and I'm too embarrassed by the potential of one of them hearing my vibrator. I wish my thoughts would stop. I wish I could think of anything else but the two of them before I fall over the edge, but I can't. They consume me.

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v short lil chapter today.