Bound by Shadows

Chapter five.

Time blurred into an unrecognizable haze as I lay in the suffocating darkness. The cold concrete floor pressed against my back, and my wrists and ankles throbbed relentlessly from the harsh metal shackles. I had lost track of how long it had been since I last ate or drank anything. My throat felt parched, raw, and my stomach twisted in knots of hunger. Each passing moment deepened my despair.

I tried to shift my position, but the chains clinked ominously, a cruel reminder of my captivity. I curled into myself, seeking some semblance of comfort, but the reality of my situation weighed heavily on my chest. My thoughts spiraled, each one a dagger of fear and hopelessness. What did he want from me? What was I to him?

Just as I began to sink deeper into my thoughts, the door creaked open, and my heart raced with both dread and anticipation. The masked man stepped inside, his figure looming in the dim light, the mask he wore obscuring the upper half of his face. Even in shadows, he commanded attention.

"I see you're still breathing," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement as he entered the room, carrying a small tray.

My stomach growled at the sight of the food—a piece of bread, some cheese, and a cup of water. The aroma wafted towards me, igniting a primal hunger that I struggled to suppress.

"What do you want?" I snapped, mustering all the defiance I could. "You can't just starve me!"

He set the tray down within reach but kept a distance, his eyes studying me with a predatory gleam. "I'm here to offer you sustenance, but it comes with a price."

"A price?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "You think you can control me with food? You're pathetic."

 His breathing faltered for a moment, then returned with a hint of menace. "Pathetic? No, Elora. I am your captor, and you will learn to respect that."

"Respect? You think I'll ever respect you?" I shot back, every word fueled by anger and desperation. "You're nothing but a coward hiding behind a mask!"

His eyes darkened, and he stepped closer, his voice low and steady. "You'll soon learn that I own you now. You can fight all you want, but it changes nothing. You are mine."

I felt a surge of rage at his words, but beneath it lay an unsettling thread of fear. "I won't be your prisoner!" I shouted, but even I could hear the uncertainty creeping into my voice.

"You're already trapped, Elora," he replied, his tone almost teasing. "But I'll make this simple. You can ask me one question a day. Choose wisely."

I hesitated, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. Finally, I blurted out, "Who are you?"

He paused, his expression unreadable. "I am your god," he said, the finality of his words hanging in the air like a thunderclap.

The gravity of his declaration hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart raced, and the tears I had been holding back spilled over, hot and relentless. I quickly turned my head, but it was too late. The reality of my situation crashed down on me, and I felt utterly powerless.

"Don't cry," he said softly, his tone shifting as he stepped closer. He reached out, brushing a thumb against my cheek, catching a tear before it could fall. "Tears don't suit you."

Before I could react, he leaned in, his mouth brushing against my skin as he licked the tear away. The warmth of his tongue sent a shock through me, a bizarre mix of revulsion and confusion. I recoiled instinctively, but his grip tightened on my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Do you understand now?" he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You're at my mercy. This is your new reality."

"Get away from me!" I spat, though my voice wavered, betraying the fear that clawed at my insides.

He chuckled, the sound dark and rich. "You can fight all you want, but it only makes this more enjoyable for me. Embrace your situation, and perhaps this won't be so unbearable."

I looked at the tray beside me, my hunger gnawing at me even as I felt sickened by his presence. "I won't eat anything you give me," I said defiantly, though my stomach betrayed me, growling loudly in protest.

"Suit yourself," he replied, stepping back. "But you'll find that hunger is a potent motivator. I'll return later. Remember, you can ask me one question, and I expect you to use it wisely."

With that, he turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that echoed in my bones. Alone once more, I pressed my back against the wall, the coldness seeping into my skin. I let the tears flow freely now, the anger mixing with despair.