Instinct

Chapter 23

I look up the plain ceiling, the day after tomorrow I'm going to die. A small smile grazes on my cracked lips, finally. This life I've lived is taking too long. My eyes drop down and I hum to myself in attempt to calm down my heart that's thrashing at my ribcage. Again the small hairs on the back of my bruised neck stand up as a breeze caresses my bloodied face. My eyes stare at the open wooden door. Damn this bed, why does it's frame have to be so complicated? I yank and pull at the chains that bound me to the bed in vain. It's practically futile to try and escape but even so I do not want to be raped like I was in the rest of the month. I sigh, this is useless. He's not going to not rape me.

As I expected the bastard walks in with a couple things in hand. I shiver as I see the tangled black, grey and white. His smirk on his white face widens, I glower at him. He walks forward dramatically slow as if this were some scene in a movie and it was supposed to be full of suspense. Whilst he makes his way towards me I study the objects in hand, trying to make out what they are. I'm guessing he's going to blindfold me; I inwardly cringe as I see a thin strip of bright red. Yep it's certainly is a blindfold. I frown deeply as I notice a couple of dodgy stuff... this would be a time I would sock him across the jaw then use that leather ball gag he's holding and cuff him to this damned bed, knock him out. When he would awaken then he would notice that he's naked and missing an ear and a couple digits. But knowing him it would probably still turn him on... probably...

The shirtless man that used to always be clad in white and grey, stalks over to me. I wince as he places his knee between my legs-right up my thighs- kisses my forehead softly, then ties the red around my eyes. Ah fuck. I knew it. Damn kinky bastard. I should've just pleaded death rather than go with the flow. I may not be able to see anything but because I've lost a sense my others have heightened, I smirk inwardly but then frown when I hear a small but soft thud on the carpet as if material has dropped... AH FUCK! A large pair of hands snake around my neck, his lips trace over the bruises he had already made over the duration of the month, I try wriggling out of his grasp and the tight handcuffs.

All I see is red. Dark red. I don't know if I like it.

"Open up and stay still, my pet." He coos in my ear whilst tracing his smooth thumb over my cracked bottom lip, I resist the urge to bite off his finger then and there. However I do snarl under my breath,

"Leave me alone you bastard and no one gets hurt." I growl at the probably smirking and half-if not fully-naked man. He laughs and squeezes my neck,

"You? You hurt me? That's funny. The only one in pain will be you, but don't worry it'll soon feel like pleasure." He chuckles darkly, AHH FUCKKK!! He sticks his middle three fingers in my mouth, I can hear him fumbling through some sort of pile of who knows what. I shiver as he takes out his fingers from my mouth and the stray strings of saliva dripple onto my chin and fall onto my flat chest. The bastard cups my face in his hand and wipes away the drool, cooing a load of bull into my ear. Someone uncuff me so I can slap his nose off his face then chew his dick off. Something cold and smooth is tied around my face then something round is shoved into my mouth, I gag. My saliva trickles down my chin then down to my rising and falling chest, if looks could kill and I wasn't blindfolded Autumn would be loonng gone. Not even six feet under, he would be rotting in the streets of Devil's Spine. His lips hover over my torso as he plants light feather kisses over my bruised form. His fingers dance over the bruises like an artist admiring his work.

I am the canvas. The red is his work. Autumn is the artist.

I squirm as his hand slaps my ass. AH FUCK! IT'S GOING TO GET WORSE! Pain wells up in me (literally), oh how badly I wanna beat this fucker up. He continues to touch, prod, pinch and kiss at my body. I squirm, wriggle and writhe in the chains and his grasp. The bastard licks up from my naval over my bruises to my neck and starts to suck at my tender skin that's just under my left ear.

My body goes limp and I give up. Let him do what he wants. The day after tomorrow I'm going to die anyway. Why should it matter what he does to me today or tomorrow. I've died long ago. I died the moment my hands were stained with the deep red blood of my mother. But that was the time a new person was born. Then soon after that person died and reincarnated as another. This process happened until the point I was named Wolf. But then, less than a month ago...he too died. But rather than getting reincarnated, he was resurrected. It my duty to see his end until the very end. I will save him. I'm not going to die now. I'll die when I'm fated to. I'll die when Wolf dies. I will stay with this darkness that rages within me until my shell starts to crack and the darkness seeps out of my wounds.