Into The Woods

Chapter 3

He slaps my thigh. “Open them,” he growls. “Or I will go kill your parents. Open your legs, Maya.” my entire body shakes like a leaf in the wind before I do as he asks. Tears prick my eyes as he cups my p***y. He hooks his finger beneath my panties, pulling them aside and rubbing one finger up my slit.

I cringe, trying to close my legs as shame sweeps through me. “Wait—” I start to say, but his eyes move to mine, and he growls. The sound stops me from saying anything.

“f*****g hell, I knew you’d be tight, but I didn’t think you’d be this wet. I bet you’ll say it’s just your body’s defense mechanism, but I think you do like it. You're made perfectly for me. The goddess really chose well. The human part we will have to take care of later. It’s an easy fix.” He praised before withdrawing his finger and pressing his other hand, holding a knife, forcing me to remain still. My eyes glint off the metal as it shines in the dark. He puts the blade between his teeth.

Then covers my mouth with his hand. A scream erupts, but it lacks impact. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, shaking his head.

He removes the knife, waving it near my face. “Ah, ah, little mate, I have warned you. You alert your family, and I’ll kill them,” he promises.

His amber eyes stare straight into my soul. What’s happening inside of them is so wicked, like he has gone completely crazy in just a matter of seconds, and I swear I saw them flicker oddly, turning black.

It has to be my brain playing tricks on me. It can’t be real.

“I’m going to destroy you, then put you back together again until you crave me and the things that I will do to you,” he tells me. He is going to destroy me. “I’m going to make you bleed.”

I am terrified of him, but I suppose that’s the point of his vile games. It’s what he wanted: a full-on fantasy in which he can do anything he wants while destroying me.

My body is covered in a cold sweat, and I’m so scared that I can’t even focus on the fact that he is undressing me with the same hand holding the knife, cutting the thin fabric easily. The way that he does it is so gentle, being careful not to cut my skin. I have bigger things on my mind, like the blade being used on my sleeping parents at the other end of the house. The same parents who didn’t believe me when I tried to tell them someone was following me, that I kept seeing him watching me through my windows. The same parents that didn’t want me here and blamed me for all of the bad things in their lives.

The man sits back, and his eyes travel over my body hungrily. He’s straddled my hips, one knee at each side. He looks at me for a little longer, building suspense until, suddenly, he grabs the knife in his hand. Moving it faster than I can keep track of, he points it straight at my abdomen. I suck in a deep breath, trying to get away from him even more.

I squirm harder, feeling the panic rising deeply within the very pit of my stomach. I can’t handle it. The fear and pain will come, and I wait with bated breath. The anticipation of waiting is so severe that my stomach swirls, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“I like to see you afraid, baby. Your fear is so addictive.” He smirks. “It’s a good look on you. Once I get you home, I can’t wait to listen to you scream for me.”

His voice sounds deeper, almost a growl. It’s almost like my fear gave him a type of power that’s too strong for him to control. I see it in his eyes; his desperate desire to destroy me.

“Sir—” I beg, not knowing what to call him.

“Seth,” he replies, his lips tilting into a half smile.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Why not?” he questioned, his smile growing wider, like he thought my begging was funny.

“I don’t want this,” I whispered breathlessly, while fighting the urge to pass out. My head feels light as fear grips its clutches into me so strongly that I feel as if I am suffocating.

“I think you honestly do,” he stated condescendingly. “When I’m through, you will be full with our child, just the way that you were meant to be.

‘Our child.’ I think, or maybe I say it aloud. I don’t know anymore what’s real and what isn’t. It feels like fear is the only thing that I know.

“For tonight and forevermore, your body is going to be mine,” He purrs as he settles on top of me, caging my small petite body into his much bigger one. Tears run hot down my face, the wetness spreads into my hair, and I feel it on my scalp. He can’t be serious. I don’t want to be his, and I don’t want what he is about to do to me.

“Seth… please.”

“When I’m done with you,” he darkly promised as he pulled the gun out from his pocket and then used his knife, tracing it up and down my neckline. My breath hitched as he smiled down at me. “You’ll know what a real man feels like.”

Without warning, he moves onto his knees, he removes his shirt first, and my eyes widened at the sight of him. He is all hard muscles and sharp lines, the kind of body that men spend hours in the gym for. The kind of body that I would have enjoyed exploring if I wasn’t so afraid.

He lowers the knife and pushes its sharp point straight into my stomach. I flinch. The metal is cold and sharp. It shoots shivers down my spine, which feel even more overwhelming since my entire body is covered in sweat. It makes me feel almost feverish. Like, I’m hallucinating like this isn’t really happening.

But he drags down his knife and draws a line into my skin. I shiver and squirm. I sob with terror, fear consuming my body. This is real; the sharp pain that shoots through me is more real than anything I have ever felt before.

The blood pours from my wound, dribbling down and seeping out. It’s black in the darkness. His eyes close for just a second, and he breathes deeply before opening them and looking down at me. A wicked grin spreads onto his face as he watches me with intrigue. He brings his fingers to my wound, covering his fingertips in red. He draws a pattern into my skin with my blood. Excited about how this looks, he moves his knife to the right.

He draws another line, and it feels like my organs are being threatened. He puts too much pressure on his knife, and I am afraid he will lose his balance and stab me to death. However, he doesn’t. He just draws another line and then repeats, playing with my blood while I hold in my screams.

I just want him to kill me and get it over with. This suspense is too much for me to bear, and I know if he keeps it up, I will pass out. I fear what he will do then.