GUILTY (Mxm)

2

Death would be a mercy, a sweet release from this anguish. But for someone like me, who has squandered love and trust, death would be an easy escape. I don't deserve that luxury.

Occasionally, a doctor would visit, tending to my wounds with detached efficiency. They'd permit me a shower, a brief respite from the filth and stench of my confinement. These rare moments of cleanliness only highlight the depth of my degradation.

It's been an eternity since I last saw Declan. His expressionless face haunts me, a constant reminder of my guilt. I dread facing him, fearing the emptiness in his eyes. Declan, once a quiet and reserved soul, had compromised his nature for me. He'd accompany me to parties, forcing a smile to please me, though I knew it pained him.

In Declan's eyes, I was once the epitome of love, the center of his universe. His devotion was absolute, and I crushed it. The weight of his love now torments me, a constant reminder of my betrayal.

How could I have been so blind, so foolish? I listened to the venomous whispers of my so-called friends, abandoning the one person who truly cared for me.

After my shower, Michael, Declan's best friend and my tormentor, arrived to treat my wounds. His touch was a study in cruelty, inflicting pain with precision. Every treatment session was a fresh hell, designed to break me.

Michael's eyes seemed to delight in my suffering, his smile a cold, calculated thing. "You're lucky Declan still wants you alive," he'd say, his voice dripping with malice. "You don't deserve his love."

As he worked, I felt my consciousness slipping, the agony threatening to consume me. Michael's goal was to make me faint, to erase any semblance of resistance. And he always succeeded.

In those dark moments, I realized that Michael's hatred was a reflection of my own self-loathing. I had destroyed Declan's trust, shattered his heart. Why should I expect forgiveness or compassion?

Now, as I lay broken and helpless, I understand the true extent of my transgressions. My only solace is the hope that, perhaps, one day I'll find redemption.

---

I jolted awake, disoriented, to find a figure silhouetted in the darkness. Even without light, I knew it was Declan. His presence seemed to fill the small cell, suffocating me. He held a bowl of food in one hand and a whip in the other, its cracks and knots gleaming menacingly.

My heart racing, I scrambled to the farthest corner of the cell, desperate to escape. But there was no refuge. Declan's eyes seemed to bore into my soul, his expression unreadable.

"What does he want from me?" I thought, panic setting in. "Why won't he just leave me alone?"

Two men burst in, their faces obscured by shadows. They chained me to the wall, my wrists and ankles immobilized. I was trapped, helpless.

As Declan approached, the whip cracked through the air, striking my back with precision. I screamed, my voice echoing off the cold walls. Pain exploded across my skin, a burning, searing sensation that left me breathless.

"Please, God, make it stop," I begged silently, tears streaming down my face.

Declan's face remained impassive, his eyes cold and detached. Each lash cut deeper, stripping me of dignity and hope. I felt my consciousness slipping, my mind fragmenting under the onslaught.

"Why is he doing this?" I thought, despair creeping in. "Does he hate me that much?"

As the beating continued, my thoughts disintegrated into chaos:

"I should have listened to him. I should have loved him back. Now it's too late."

"Will this ever end?"

The whip's rhythmic strikes seemed to count down the moments until my sanity shattered.

In the darkness, I sensed Declan's turmoil. His thoughts were a jumbled mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal.

"He's suffering as much as I am," I realized, a pang of regret striking my heart.

But it was too late. The damage was done.

As the beating finally ceased, Declan dropped the whip, his chest heaving with exertion. He placed the bowl of food on the floor, his eyes never leaving mine.

In that moment, I saw a glimmer of the man I once loved, the man I had destroyed.

Declan turned and walked away, leaving me shattered, broken, and alone.

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