Bound by Midnight's Spell

Chapter 3

At the stroke of 5 a.m., Elena, a girl of quiet resilience, stepped into the kitchen, her sanctuary of solace and toil. For the last 9 years, this had been her routine—to prepare the morning breakfast for her aunt and uncle, a chore that had woven itself into the fabric of her existence.

Yet today held an unsettling surprise. Her aunt, a stern and formidable figure, ventured into the kitchen at an hour unusual for her, startling Elena with her unexpected presence. An unfamiliar twist of dread coiled its tendrils around her spine as her aunt’s lips curled into an unkind address, a venomous greeting that slashed the morning's tranquillity.

"Move your lazy ass, you ungrateful brat! Today is a special day, my dear Peter is finally returning home! Everything needs to be perfect for his arrival." Her aunt's words dripped with disdain, sending an ominous shiver down Elena's spine.

Memories clawed at the edges of Elena's consciousness, vivid recollections of the last time her cousin, Peter, graced their home. A chill ran through her veins as she recalled the last night when Peter’s malevolent presence had invaded her sanctuary. The torment and anguish she had endured that night lingered as a haunting specter in the recesses of her mind.

During the years, he perfected his craft of torturing her, each time becoming more and more creative. Slaps, punches, followed by tender caressing of her body; chocking her till she lost her breath, followed by cuddling her and rubbing her body with his from behind while moaning in her ears, followed by bites and kicks in the stomach. These were just a few of the things she had endured till now.

Before Elena could descend into the harrowing memory lane, a sharp sting jolted her back to the present. Her aunt's hand collided with the back of her head, a forceful reminder to hurry. Elena stood still, an eerie calm enveloping her, her gaze fixed on the task at hand. She had learned, through a myriad of trials, the dire consequences of defiance.

Silent and compliant, Elena nodded in obedience, her voiceless acquiescence a testament to the heavy silence that had consumed her life. In the wake of relentless discipline, her voice had grown faint, an almost forgotten echo fading into the depths of her soul.

Hours later, the air crackled with a strange energy as Peter's arrival stirred an atmosphere both tense and charged. Elena, always relegated to the shadows, moved silently as her aunt's joyful exclamations echoed through the halls. Peter's return heralded an unsettling shift in the household dynamics.

As her aunt's jubilant cries filled the air, Elena, accustomed to her unassuming role, hastened to greet Peter. A sense of foreboding gripped her as she approached to take his shoes and coat. A chill ran down her spine as she felt his heated, malevolent gaze boring into her, hidden behind a facade of normalcy.

Her aunt inquired about Peter's endeavors. A twisted grin tugged at his lips as he proudly announced his accomplishment—a feat that sent ripples of joy to his mother.

"I've secured a position in the finance team at Midnight Corp," Peter announced, his voice tinged with an air of superiority. The revelation hung heavily in the air, the significance not lost on Elena. Midnight Corp, governed by the formidable Dragon's royal family, stood as an esteemed bastion, a fortress where only a few selected humans tread. To secure a foothold within its hallowed halls was a big success.

"So proud of you, Peter," her aunt gushed, her voice tinged with a mother's admiration. "Joining Midnight Corp's finance team is a remarkable achievement for a human."

Uncle George nodded in agreement, his expression brimming with paternal pride. "You've made us proud, son. You're carving your path among the elite."

"Indeed, Peter. The only thing left now is for you to find a matching girl from a prestigious family. It'll solidify your standing in society," his mother added.

Peter's eyes gleamed with a shrewd glint as he responded, "I'm on it, Mother. I won't disappoint. I know what I want."

Elena's heart quivered with unease at the conversation's turn, especially when Peter addressed his last words and looked in her direction.

As the evening wore on, Elena retreated to her room, seeking refuge from the jubilation that masked the underlying tension. In the quiet solitude, her thoughts churned with apprehension before trying to fall asleep.

The clock struck midnight, and the quietude of Elena's room was pierced by a sound that sent shivers down her spine. Her heart quickened, an instinctive dread settling within her. She knew, with an eerie certainty, that the intruder in her sanctum was none other than Peter.

A weight descended on her small bed, the creaking betraying the presence of an unwelcome visitor. As her senses heightened, a hand began to trail across her form, starting from her legs, and going up on her back, a touch that sent a chill through her very soul. The voice that followed, laden with a sinister familiarity, confirmed her fears.

"I missed you, my lamb," Peter whispered, his words dripping with a twisted affection that curdled the air.

But in an instant, the illusion of gentleness was shattered. His hand gripped her hair, yanking her from the bed with merciless force. Elena found herself on the cold floor, her face lifted to meet his unwavering gaze.

"You deserve punishment for not waiting for me, for daring to sleep without my permission. I was so excited to see you, to celebrate my success, to touch you, and you… you are sleeping?!" Peter declared, his voice veering between caressing tones and malevolent intent.

He forced her to her knees, a position of subservience that mocked her autonomy. The room echoed with a resounding slap that shattered the fragile tranquility. Pain seared through her cheek, her lower lip splitting under the force of the blow. As blood trickled, Peter's voice slithered into her ears, a venomous lament.

"Look what you made me do, my lamb. Why do you always provoke me?"

Elena's eyes, a reflection of silent anguish, met Peter's gaze.

Peter circled her like a malevolent predator, his movements casting an oppressive shadow over the room. Elena, still on the cold floor, felt the weight of his presence loom like a dark cloud, suffocating her with a palpable sense of dread. His words, laced with a sinister promise, clawed at the fringes of her sanity.

"I can't wait for you to turn eighteen, my lamb," Peter whispered, his voice a venomous hiss that sent shivers down her spine. "That's when the real fun will begin. But until then, we just need to be creative." Elena's entire body quivered with a mixture of fear and revulsion.

She didn’t have a lot of knowledge of what was happening between a woman and a man, but from the scraps of information she noticed on TV and her aunt and uncle’s marriage, she had an idea, and she knew that what Peter was doing was wrong; he was her cousin.

As Peter continued to circle her like a vulture reveling in its prey, Elena's mind raced with a torrent of emotions. In the darkness, Elena felt an icy chill grip her soul. The twisted games Peter spoke of, the anticipation of a future marked by sadistic pleasure, was a nightmarish prospect that left her paralyzed with dread.

“Strip.” Peter suddenly commanded her.

Elena froze in place as, despite all his tortures and touching, this was the first time he had asked her this. She stood in place, not moving.

“I said strip Elena, let me see you.” Peter raised his voice, but Elena still didn’t move as she felt like her brain froze.

She felt his heavy hand grabbing her scalp, while the other one grabbed her neck.

“Are you defying me? It seems that I need to discipline you.” Peter replied, angrily, while continuing to squeeze her neck.

Elena felt herself suffocating and tears started to come into her cheeks, but Peter showed no mercy. When she felt like fainting, he released her, and he ripped her cheap nightgown from a few moves. She stood naked in shock, trying to cover her modesty with her arms.

“Remove your hands. I said, I want to see you, my lamb. Why are you hiding from me?” he told her in a sweet and tender voice, while coming closer to her.

Elena hesitantly left her hands down, sitting in front of him only in her worn out underwear, with tears flowing.

“Perfect, you are just perfect, my lamb. No more hiding. I don’t think that I can wait till you are 18. I want to see all of you.” He told her in a heated tone.

“Remove your underwear. Now,” Peter commanded.

Elena felt at that moment that her soul would leave her body, as al her limbs were trembling. She expected that she would be tortured and tormented as usual, but she never expected this.

Due to her hesitation, Peter approached her again and grabbed her hair and throat violently, squeezing her.

“You really like defying me; it seems that you miss our old discipline games. No worries, my lamb, I will not disappoint you.” Peter said while removing his belt.

His phone emitted a sharp trill, shattering the eerie silence. With a sudden change in demeanor, he glanced at the screen, his features contorting with frustration and impatience.

"Midnight Corp," he muttered under his breath, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I have to leave," Peter announced, his tone clipped as he shot a regretful look towards Elena.

Relief flooded through Elena like a cascading wave, her heart pounding with a mix of gratitude and disbelief.

"But don’t worry, my lamb, with my new job, I will be finally moving back home on a permanent basis, so, just a few more days,” Peter stated, a malicious glint in his eye before he turned and stormed out of the room.

As the heavy door clicked shut behind him, Elena's chest heaved with a mixture of emotions. She sat trembling on the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The weight of his last words sent shivers through her entire body, as she realised in despair that once he would move permanently into the house her episodes of agony would become the norm.

The brief respite dissolved into thin air as the door swung open once more, revealing Aunt Iva's imposing figure. Elena's heart sank as the matriarch of the house entered with an air of palpable anger.

One piercing look at Elena’s naked appearance was all it took for Aunt Iva to unleash her wrath.

"You f*****g w***e," she spat, her words a venomous condemnation that hung in the air like a curse. Without a moment's hesitation, a resounding slap landed on Elena's already tender cheek, the force of the blow sending a sharp pain through her.

"You, ungrateful wretch," Aunt Iva hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. "I offered you shelter, raised you when you were an orphan, and this is how you repay me? By seducing my son, Peter?"

With each accusation, Aunt Iva's rage intensified. Iva's strikes were fueled by a venomous fury, each blow accompanied by scathing words that cut through the room like a serrated blade.

Elena, defenseless against the onslaught, endured the physical and verbal barrage with a stoic silence.

“It seems that we indulged you too much, you’re a w***e exactly like your mother.” Iva spat.

These words made Elena’s heart break even more, as during the years the fading memories of her parents were the only beacon of hope that there was still good in this world.

“But I have the right solution for you and I have had enough. Get dressed!” Aunt Iva shouted.

“Now!”