Chapter 1: Nightmare
Note: This series is a darker werewolf series not following the usual "plot" of fated mates.
Be aware of darker elements such a described violence, s****l abuse and death.
Also if you easily get affected by reading about s****l abuse in any way, I recommend you do not read the text written in italic.
-Evan-
Nothing but a few candles around me in the dark room. It is cold, but I barely notice it. I pull in my chains once again, but they do not give in. They are made special … Just for me. I am laying spread eagle out on what looks like an altar but is not used for any sorts of sacrifices or prayers. No, it is only used for my torture and her pleasure.
I pull on them once again, just before I hear the all too familiar sound of the door opening, and the clicking of her red heels. She loves that color. Red. Her hair is dyed a deep red, like blood, her lips match the color, and she always wears that disgusting red see-through robe that barely covers anything of her. I hate the sight of it, as much as I hate the sight of her. I feel her before I see her. Her hand running over my naked shin, all the way to my naked thigh, missing just my c*ck, thank the Goddess and then up my naked body until she is just before me, smiling cruelly.
“I have missed you,” she says.
It makes me growl lowly, as I feel disgusted by her words. I had hoped, after not seeing her for four days straight, she was finally done with me, but I was wrong. After four days of taking a break from her, I was taken from my cell and brought here by other strong males. To her little playroom, as she likes to call it. It is a torture room for me. Nothing else. The things she has done to me here. I could not describe them.
She moves her long and red-colored nails over my skin, making goosebumps appear. I want to bite her hand off, but it isn’t just my wrists and ankles that are covered in the strong metal, it is my neck too. She has a collar around my throat, always ready to lock me up and make sure I cannot hurt her. I want to hurt her. I want this torture to be over.
“What shall we do today?” she asks, smiling down at me.
I don’t answer her. I just stare her in the eyes, which earns me a well-placed slap, yet I barely feel the pain anymore. She has made me numb from everything she has done to me … yet I have no one else to thank for this … but myself.
“You do not look directly at me, you hear me, slave?!”
I hate when she calls me that. I have not heard my own name spoken to me in … was it months? I am not certain, but really it does not matter. I will never get out of this hell before she loses her interest, and that has not happened so far.
She drags her nails over my skin, piercing it slightly and making the blood flow. I bite down hard trying not to say anything. She likes it when I scream, and I will not give her the satisfaction. She runs her nails from left to right, leaving very long scratch marks.
“That’s better,” she says. “Now they can all see you are mine?”
Who exactly? This is her own little private dungeon. Who would see it? She leans closer, her arms caging me in by placing themselves on each side of my face. She is rather thin yet her breasts are large and dangling in front of my face, but I feel nothing but disgust at the sight of them.
“I am sorry I have not been able to come see you,” she tells me in a sickly-sweet voice. “My mate has been home more often than he used to.”
I ignore her by turning my head away from her, but she does not like it and places her hands on the sides of my face and forces me to look at her. She smiles that disgusting smile and then leans even closer, her breath fanning my lips, making me close to vomit.
“But I will make it up to you,” she whispered.
I know she wants to lean down and kiss me, but it would be stupid. Being so close to my teeth … bad idea. So, instead she pulls away and then I see her turn and walk away. I try to lift my head so I can see where she is going but the collar prevents me, and all I can do is listen to her walk around in the darkness where I cannot see her. It makes my pulse race, as I do not know what is about to happen. She always finds new ways to torture me. She likes pain. She gets off on it.
“What shall we do today,” she hums.
I shiver, but I am uncertain if it is the cold or her voice. Maybe both. I just hope her mate will be back soon so she will leave me alone. At least when he is here, she needs to tend to him and not me. I hear her come closer again, a beautiful knife in her hand. It isn’t very big, but the handle has been carved in a special way, so it bends slightly and has spirals running along it. It almost looks like an artwork, but I know what she will do with it.
She climbs on top of me, and my whole body just wants to get away from her. I try to move but the chains are keeping me in place … Why me? I knew the answer to that, but still, why me? She slowly and in a seductive way, that I am certain would have turned other males on, that weren’t tied down like me, takes off her robe. Underneath, I know see she is covered in small golden chains, running along her body in a detailed and sexy way, that is showing off her curves even more, but I just want to close my eyes, but if I do, I know this will be worse. She first runs her hand down my chest, smearing my own blood around and purring at the sight of it. I am so close to vomiting now.
Then she finally places the blade just above my heart. I swallow hard as I know all she has to do is press down and then it will sink into my heart. I beg her inside of myself to do it. I want this to be over with, but she doesn’t. Instead, she just barely pierces my skin before dragging it down in one long line, that has my whole body turn into a firework of pain, sweat breaks out on my skin and I start to breathe faster, trying to hold off my own scream. The knife is definitely laced with some kind of poison the way it not just stings but burns me.
I want to beg her to stop, but she likes that too and there is no way I am giving her the satisfaction of hearing me beg. I tried it, and I am not doing it again, seeing her only become more turned on by it.
She finally lifts the knife and brings it to her lips, where her tongue darts out and licks the blood off. Can you say … disgusting? I just hear her hum in satisfaction and then she leans down and licks the trail of blood with her tongue. My whole skin feels like something is crawling underneath it, and I want to escape it but I cannot.
“Mhmm, delicious,” she purrs.
I don’t look at her. I cannot. I feel so dirty and wrong, and I can feel the warmth from her p*ssy just above my … wanting me inside of her and dripping down slick onto my lower body. I cannot get hard. She broke me, and it has left me … well broken, but that does not matter to her. She can get me hard in another way.
“I want to play longer,” she pouts. “But I want you too badly.”
She always tries to jerk me off at first, but it never works. I have become completely detached from that part of me. All thanks to her. It irritates her, and that little groan of frustration is probably the only thing making me happy. It is good to see her not smiling and all happy, but this won’t stop her. She just climbs off me to go get some of her … many mixtures and jars. I have no idea, even to this day, what was in all of them, but I know what one did specifically.
She coats her hand in the cream before walking over to me, coating me in it and my … that part instantly becomes hard. She licks her lips at the sight, and I know this is the part where I completely close off. Where I don’t even feel connected to my body, as she climbs on top of and guides that part of me inside of her and takes what she needs. I don’t come. Not anymore. As I said. She broke me, but it won’t stop her from getting what she wants, what she always wants. Her hands all over me, burning me and marking me forever as her p*ssy squeezes around me and she screams as she comes.
I practically jumped from my bed, fighting the air in front of me with my arms, but there was no one but me in here. I sighed deeply, covering my sweaty face with my hands, taking a short moment just to get back to reality. I threw the blanket off me and got up from the bed, feeling so cold and numb. I always felt numb, but it got worse somehow every time I dreamed of her.
Even now ... even after years, she still haunted me. Took from me. I leaned down to my jacket I had thrown on the floor and got my pack of cigarettes and the lighter. It used to have red covering the edges and the rose in the middle had been red too, but after years spent in my hand running my nails over it, scraping it off, it had faded. Yet I could never remove the initials on the bottom E.W.
I walked, completely naked, over to my balcony, opened the door and walked into the cold November night. I barely felt the cold though, as I lit the cigarette and then turned my eyes to the dark forest before me. I wanted to go for a run. I wanted to escape the nightmares that came every time I closed my eyes. It was why I never slept much, but sometimes my body demanded it. After walking around without sleeping for days, I simply just had to, but I always woke up feeling worse.
“Meow!”
I turned to see the little orange furball that had decided to follow me wherever the f*ck I went. I had completely forgotten I had let her into the room to sleep beside me. I most likely woke her up with my shouting and fighting the air.
“Can’t sleep either?” I asked.
She jumped up on the railing, her yellow eyes locking on me.
“Meow!”
I placed my hand on her head and started to scratch her ears. This was most likely the closest I had been to a female in years. I didn’t like to be touched and everyone knew that, but the furball just didn’t care, and if I didn’t pet her, she would meow until I did.
I placed the cigarette between my lips and inhaled for a long time. It was a good thing wolves couldn’t get cancer, because if they could, I would surely have been dead by now. I did really smoke too much, but it was the only thing I found calming. Even when I was running in the forest, I felt like I could not escape my past. Her voice was edged into my memory together with her touch. It was close to driving me insane, yet I could not erase her. I had had the chance once, but she escaped through my hands, and now I had not seen her since. I expected her to be dead, yet the thought brought me no comfort. I wanted to be the one to squeeze the life out of her and see it disappear from her eyes, and now … now I would never get the chance while she still haunted me. Owned me.
“Meow!”
“What?” I asked, irritated. “Am I not already petting you?”
She didn’t say anything else but moved away and jumped down from the railing. She looked back at me, as if she was telling me to come inside as well, but I was not ready yet. I needed more time.
