𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐃 𝐄 𝐕 𝐀 𝐍 𝐀

○

He was a puzzle, a whirlwind of contradictions. The charm he wielded could disarm even the sharpest mind, his wit a weapon that could cut you open and leave you yearning for more. But there was a darkness beneath the surface, a flicker of something cold and calculating that sent shivers down my spine.

○

"I am not a slave," I repeated, my voice rising in defiance, "I will not be under her control!" The words echoed in the confines of my cage, a desperate mantra against my growing despair. My throat, parched and raw, forced me to stop. When had I last tasted clean water? Oh, I can't remember. The memory was lost, swallowed by the relentless thirst.

Leaning against the cold bars, I tried to restart my chant, but the searing pain in my cheeks stopped me short. Each slap, each punch, left its mark, a constant reminder of my powerlessness. Exhaustion, heavy and suffocating, threatened to consume me. God I'm so tired, all I wanted was to sleep for eternity, to escape this endless nightmare.

Taking a deep, ragged breath, I tried to continue my protest, but something, someone, had interrupted my desperate plea for freedom.

"I am not a slave, I will not be-"

"Shut up bitch! For fuck sake just shut up!"

The vulgar shout jolted me. My eyes, heavy with exhaustion, struggled to focus on the fucker. It was one of her soldiers, her people, someone who willingly knelt at her feet. But I wouldn't be like them. I wouldn't break. I was being labelled a thorn in her flesh for a reason, I have to live up to my name.

"Come shut me up, little fuck" My words, a venomous hiss, ignited a surge of anger in his gaze. With a predatory stride, he approached my prison, his intent as clear as the sunlight cutting through the bars. The suspense hung in the air, a cruel dance of anticipation. Would it be a fist slamming into my face, a boot connecting with my ribs, a searing hand across my cheeks? Or perhaps the dreaded torment of a lashing with that vile vine? Probably the last one. The cage door swung open, a brief flicker of hope extinguished as swiftly as it was kindled. A mirage of freedom, forever out of reach.

In a moment of terror, his burly hands, adorned with bulging veins that seemed to pulsate with fury, seized my weightless body. Before my star-crossed vision could focus, I was ruthlessly hurled aside, a torrent of blood surging from the impact. As I struggled to compose myself, he ruthlessly grabbed my hair and slammed it down on the table, a horrifying improvement over the brutal wall he had assaulted me with previously. Without respite, a lash tore through the air, landing on my already battered back, drawing out screams that reverberated through the desolate basement. I collapsed into the gathering pool of my own blood, each subsequent lash a testament to the relentless torment.

Despite my desperate struggle, my weakened state forced me to the ground. I raised my arms to shield my face from the blows, but my eyebrow wasn't spared. The whipping vines struck, and blood streamed down my face. The pain overwhelmed me, sapping my will to resist. I surrendered to the onslaught, numbed by the relentless assault. It was a familiar scene. Yet, a flicker of hope emerged – the image of the nurse's kind smile and gentle face. It brought a hesitant grin to my lips, a silent plea for survival.

An icy breeze sneaked through the curtains, caressing my feet and sending a shiver coursing through me. As my vision adjusted to the radiant sunlight, I gradually grasped the astonishing truth that what had just unfolded was not a figment of my imagination. It had transpired in reality, leaving a trail of imprints on my body. Rubbing my arms for warmth, I stretched my weary limbs, releasing a contented sigh. A moment of confusion washed over me as I realized these were my sheets, my bed. Had Fyo returned me home? But it was impossible. Panic set in. Who, then, had brought me?

My eyes flew open, my mind racing. I retraced my steps from the moment I abandoned the rain-soaked station. I had been fleeing the rain to escape a cold that threatened to cripple me, and then... and then... my memory faltered. "Dammit Devana remember!" I said slapping my head. Oh, I had come to a halt near a deserted bus stop, my attention snared by something. No, someone. The horrifying realization struck me like a car crash: the pale devil!

The pale devil who had been sheltering under the bus stop! But... what had transpired after our encounter? I remembered slumbering on his... Oh fuck me! I hadn't actually... slept with a complete stranger, had I?