The Devil's Bargain

chapter seven

With a rebellious spark in her eyes, Kristina waited until she heard Blake's footsteps fade into the depths of the mansion. Then, she tossed the cleaning rag aside and headed straight for the east wing, her curiosity burning brighter than ever. The grandiose doors loomed before her, taunting her with their secrets. She pushed them open, the hinges groaning in protest, and stepped into the shadowy corridor. The air was colder here, and it smelled faintly of dust and something else—something metallic and faintly unpleasant. She walked down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath shallow. This was it—the moment of truth.

As she approached the room at the end of the hall, she heard a faint sound—a rhythmic thumping, almost like the beating of a heart. It grew louder with each step she took, pulsing in time with her own. Suddenly, the sound of a gun cocking echoed through the corridor, and she froze. Blake's voice, cold and unyielding, rang out from the darkness ahead.

"You've disobeyed me, Kristina," he said, stepping into view with a gun pointed directly at her. "Now, you'll have to face the consequences."

Her eyes widened in shock, but instead of fear, a thrill of excitement shot through her. "Is this what you call a warning?" she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Blake's expression was unreadable, his finger hovering over the trigger. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warned. "But if you insist on pushing, I'll give you what you want. Seven rules, seven chances to submit. Break one, and you'll wish you had never stepped foot in this wing."

Kristina's heart raced as she took in his challenge. She knew she should be terrified, but instead, she felt alive. This was the thrill she had been craving, the mystery she had been dying to solve. And she wasn't about to back down now. She took a step closer, her eyes locked with his.

"I'm ready for your rules, Mr. Blackwood," she said, a hint of defiance in her voice. "But remember, I'm not one to be tamed easily."

Blake's eyes narrowed, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. "Very well," he said, his voice a low growl. "Rule one: never enter this wing without my permission. Rule two: you will address me as 'Master' while you are here. Rule three: you will follow my every command without question. Rule four: your safety is my priority, but do not expect me to be gentle if you disobey. Rule five: you will not touch anything unless I tell you to. Rule six: screams are for pleasure, not fear—unless you want me to believe you're in genuine danger. Rule seven: the truth is yours to seek, but only if you survive the night."

He lowered the gun, the barrel pointing at the floor. "Choose wisely, little brat," he murmured, his voice thick with a challenge. "The games we play here are not for the faint of heart."

Kristina's pulse pounded in her ears, but she met his gaze with a fiery determination. "I'm not afraid of you, or your games," she said, taking another step closer. "But I do have one condition of my own."

Blake raised an eyebrow, his grip tightening on the gun. "Oh?"

"I want to know what you're hiding," she said, her voice steady. "And I won't stop until I do."

The smirk grew into a full smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Very well," he said, his tone mocking. "But remember, you asked for this." He gestured for her to enter the room, the gun still in his hand. "Let's begin."

The room beyond was dimly lit, candles flickering on the walls casting eerie shadows. It was filled with various contraptions and devices that looked like they belonged in a medieval torture chamber. Kristina's heart raced, but she stepped inside, her chin held high.

"Welcome to my playroom," Blake said, closing the door behind her with a thud that echoed through the chamber. "Where every desire can be fulfilled—or shattered."