Serpentine Desires

The prey

I curled into a ball, knees pressed to my chest, arms wrapping around my trembling body. The cold floor was unforgiving, a harsh contrast to the burning shame that consumed me. My throat was raw, my lips swollen and bruised, but it was my heart that ached the most—splintered into pieces so small I couldn't even feel it anymore.

Judas was gone. He left me lying here, broken and discarded like I was nothing. I wasn't even a person to him. I was a possession. A toy he could break over and over again just to prove a point.

Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and thick, sliding down my cheeks as silent sobs racked my body.

My fingers clutched at the torn fabric of my sweater, but it offered no comfort. I was exposed—physically, emotionally, entirely. I could feel every bruise, every mark of his claim still searing on my skin.

I should hate him. God, I do hate him. But I hate myself more for not fighting harder. For letting him take from me what little I had left.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. Time no longer mattered. I was lost in the spiral of pain, guilt, and devastation that clawed at me from every side.

Then I heard it. The soft creak of the door opening.

My body tensed, fear coursing through me. Was he back?

I didn't have the strength to look up, didn't have the energy to face whatever new torment awaited me. I just stayed there, curled on the floor, hoping if I didn't move, I could disappear.

I flinched as something heavy and warm dropped over me. My heart skipped, panic flaring. I looked up in surprise, my blurred vision clearing just enough to see him.

Kyle.

He stood there, his back stiff, eyes locked on the window as if he couldn't bear to look at me. His face was hard, jaw set in that familiar cold, unreadable way. The coat he'd thrown over me was black—just like Judas's. For a second, I thought it was the same one.

My fingers trembled as they brushed the fabric. It was too warm. Too soft.

Kyle said nothing. The silence between us was deafening. I sat there, clutching his coat like a lifeline, still too shaken to speak.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice cold and detached. "Don't mess with him. This is the last warning."

I scoffed, the bitterness in my chest bubbling up to the surface. "When will this end? When?" My voice cracked, but I didn't care. I had nothing left to lose.

He didn't turn to face me, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his expression hidden. His shoulders were stiff, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.

Then, his voice cut through the silence. "Get ready. I'll drop you at your college."

I blinked, disbelief lacing my voice. "He's letting me?"

Kyle's head shifted slightly, just enough to give me the briefest glance. His eyes were hard, impassive. "Do you not want to?"

"I mean... yes, but..." I trailed off, confusion swirling in my mind. Judas never let me out of his sight unless it was on his terms. At least, not after last night. This couldn't be real.

Kyle turned back towards the window, the tension in his body coiling tighter. "I don't have an answer to this," he said, his voice clipped. "Get ready, unless you have some other plans."

His words were dismissive, uncaring, like this was just another task he had to complete. But there was something else in his tone—something guarded. He was hiding something.