𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 || DOUMA X YN || 16+

chapter 3

   ┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

I rubbed my weary eyes and blinked slowly, disoriented. Where was I? "O-ouch," I whispered, clutching my aching head. The sight of the wooden ceiling intensified the throbbing pain. And this scent... it lingered, oddly familiar, like a memory half-forgotten.

I held my head until the pain began to fade, a dull throb echoing in my temples. "Ugh... was I passed out?" My thoughts were a haze, fragmented and elusive. A persistent tingling spread through my scalp as I squeezed my hair, trying to ground myself. The pain now was a cruel echo, intensifying with every heartbeat, far worse than the initial shock when I first awoke.

"Oh! You're awake!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands together in delight. "Great...!" His eyes sparkled with an unsettling gleam, a hint of something hidden beneath the surface. Suspicion gnawed at me. "W-what happened? What did you do to me?" I stuttered, my voice trembling, each word a struggle to push past my dry, cracked lips. Fear coiled around my chest, tightening with every heartbeat.

"Does your head hurt?" he inquired, rising gracefully from his seat and walking toward me with an eerie calmness.

"What are you doing? B-back away, you little shit!" I stammered, retreating in a desperate attempt to put distance between us. "I told you to stay awa-"

Before I could finish, he leaned in close, his breath warm and sinister against my ear, sending a chill down my spine. "The drug must be taking effect now~"

His words pierced through the fog of pain and confusion, and my eyes widened in horror. The mere mention of a drug sent a wave of terror crashing through me, each nerve ending igniting with dread. My entire body shook uncontrollably, the reality of my predicament sinking in with a cruel clarity.

Drug? What drug? Had he tampered with my drink? No, I remembered—he made me drink something earlier. Panic surged through me as I plunged my fingers into my mouth, desperately trying to force out the mysterious liquid.

"It's pointless..." he murmured with a chilling chuckle, his voice laced with cruel delight. The amusement in his eyes was a cold, unfeeling light, casting shadows of derision over my futile struggles. Each heave, each attempt to rid myself of the drug seemed to only entertain him further, his gaze fixed on me with a blend of cruelty and satisfaction.

"You’ve been passed out for thirty minutes—long enough for the drug to take effect," he said, kneeling beside me and playing with my hair.

"You know, Y/n," he continued, his tone both mocking and unsettling, "a hundred girls would kill to be in your position right now."

His fingers tangled with my hair, each touch a cruel caress. His nails dug into my skin, a sharp, persistent reminder of his control.

"T-take them then! Marry them instead of me!" My voice trembled, barely making it past my lips. Speaking was a struggle with the relentless pain throbbing in my head and body. I felt feverish, my skin burning as if on fire. What's happening to me...?

I tugged at my hair, the pain amplifying my sense of helplessness. "It hurts. It's so hot, please make it stop." My cheeks flushed, and a wave of numbness spread through my entire body. I dropped to my knees, my pleas desperate as I begged him to end my suffering.

I didn’t want to do this, but I felt I had no choice. I had to survive, for my sake and for his. With trembling hands, I reached for his loose pants, pulling at them as tears streamed down my face. "Please," I pleaded, my voice breaking with desperation. "Please, have mercy."

"Hmm... Since you asked so nicely, I'll do it!" His eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction, the same eyes I had come to loathe since childhood. The fake smile he wore was all too familiar—a mask of charm designed to manipulate others for his own selfish gain.

"P-please," I begged, my vision blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. "Please... D-douma-san." I swallowed my pride and spoke his name, the one he had longed to hear, knowing it would grant him a perverse sense of satisfaction.

His lips curved into a cold, satisfied smile. "Well then, Y/n-san," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. He grabbed my shoulders with a firm grip, forcing me to stand up.

"Strip."

└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

Chapter short. (sorry 😔)