Serpentine Desires

The prey

Apologies for the delayed update. I was going through writer's block. Needed something to hie me, and you guys did in my dms. So harsh. I practically had to drag my ass to my table and start writing. I wanted to take a day or two days off to clear my head, but the updates were far more important. 

Enjoy and don't forget to leave the comments. 

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Since childhood, understanding emotions had always been a hassle for me. It wasn't that I was indifferent; I simply struggled to grasp why they felt the way they did.

When my father died tragically, I watched my mother cry herself to sleep night after night. I would kneel beside her door, bothered and confused by her tears and wondering why she couldn't move on. I felt the loss too, but I believed that if we stayed mired in our grief, we'd be stuck there forever.

I became her anchor in those dark times. She called me her angel, the one who guided her through the darkness. Yet, in truth, I merely encouraged her to keep going, to not let the grief consume us. I didn't understand her pain fully, but I knew we couldn't let it define our lives. In the end, it wasn't about dismissing our loss but about finding the strength to live beyond it.

The complexity of the human brain was beyond my grasp, but he—there was not a single nerve or bone in him that I could relate to or understand. One minute he threatened me, and hurt me, and the next, he was so close that I forgot whose air I was breathing. He had me moulded into his hands, twisting me in whatever way he preferred, and then he let go, not realizing I was shattering there. Or maybe he simply didn't care enough to even ponder that.

A toy. That's what I felt like.

When I struggled to my trembling legs, he was already striding forward with his cane.

Kyle was there, watching, and I stood paralyzed, unsure of what to do next. Cruel. That's what he was. He wielded his cruelty like a weapon, knowing exactly how to get under my skin and make me feel small.

His presence was oppressive, a looming shadow that filled me with a deep, abiding fear. He was chaos and I knew he revelled in that power.

Gathering my sanity off the ground, I jogged towards him and Kyle, keeping my distance this time, walking beside Kyle.

Judas stopped, and so did I and my breaths. Looking around with fearful eyes, I realised we were in a corridor. I watched him cautiously as he extended his hand. "Little bird?" I hated the tinge of nerves that rushed through me at his deep, refined, and suspiciously calm voice as if he hadn't cornered me just a few minutes ago.

I took a deep breath and then stepped forward. He wanted my hand. I gave it to him before pulling the sleeves of my sweater to my nails so that my skin wouldn't touch him. A small tilt of his lips as he rubbed my sweater-cladded hands with his thumb, but to my relief, he remained quiet.

"We are here, sir," Kyle said and Judas nodded.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a black hole appearing in front of my eyes as if it'd suck me in. Though there was a clothed wall between us, I could feel the warmth of his palm.

Kyle opened the door, and the loud voices completely slammed in my ears. So loud I wanted to press my palms against my ears. Before my vision could sweep around, a tangible scent of smoke, alcohol and disgusting smell infiltrated my nostrils. And I literally hated it.

The room stilled for a second as every pair of eyes turned to the door.

"Welcome back," A man wearing a dusty brown fur coat and an ugly smirk mumbled raising his whisky-filled glass in the air towards Judas. "We've been waiting."