HIS POSSESSION

*Zeus* Pain. That’s all I felt as I came to, my head pounding like it had been split open. A dull ache throbbed, warm and cold all at once, and I realized blood—both dry and fresh—was smeared across my forehead. I shifted, wincing as my eyes fought to open, each blink a struggle against the sticky darkness. For a moment, all I could see was black, blinding black, then a sickly blur that forced my eyes shut again. After a second, I braced myself, sucking in a shallow breath as I tried again. This time, my vision cleared just enough to show a haze of shadows, and I got the sense that I wasn’t alone. But it wasn’t because anyone else was here; no, it was more the way the darkness closed in around me. Pressing down. Suffocating. A chill spread through me as I felt the hard surface under my back. Cold and hard. Stone? Maybe hard packed dirt. I couldn’t tell. My whole body screamed as I pushed myself upright, every muscle in me stiff and aching, like I’d been crushed under something heavy. My hands searched my legs, my arms. Nothing broken, thankfully. But everything hurt enough that it might as well have been. I took in a ragged breath, barely able to hear my own voice as I muttered, “Where... am I?” Panic gripped me, the question echoing back, unanswered. I tilted my head, fighting to see past the shadows. My stomach lurched as the reality hit—hard and brutal—I was trapped. Caged, buried underground, in a space that barely allowed me to stand up in. I reached out, and my fingers met cold metal. Bars. A cage. Someone had thrown me down here like an animal! I strained against the bars, desperate to make out any hint of what lay outside. And that’s when I saw it—a thin slice of light, barely enough to illuminate anything, but there, stretching across the ground from between the bars. Dawn. They had tossed me out here sometime in the dead of night, and now, morning had crept in to taunt me. “Damn it!” I hissed, inching forward. I tried to steady myself, but dizziness washed over me, and bile rose in my throat. I clung to the bars, pushing myself to the edge to see if anything—anything—lay beyond. Trees. Leaves, thick and tangled like a wall, closing me in. A forest? Somewhere far enough from civilization that no one would hear me. A thin sheen of sweat beaded on my forehead as flashes of last night hit me. It was too fast, too chaotic. A stranger. His rough, strong hands. My struggle. The scent of blood. And that final blow, the one that sent me spinning into darkness. I sucked in a breath, my gut twisting as a single, horrifying realization set in. “I’ve been kidnapped.” **Ten Hours Earlier** Flashing lights flickered like swarming ants, closing in from every direction as I made my way through the buzzing crowd. The media had gathered like vultures, waiting for a glimpse, their cameras and voices jostling for attention. “Mr. Damon, is it true you secured the Sun City development project from France’s largest entrepreneur?” I kept my pace steady, chin high, and gave them that familiar, carefully crafted smile. It wasn’t the first time I had to do this. I quietly made my way to the car. “Mr. Damon, it’s rumored you’ll be building exclusive shopping malls, stadiums, and other facilities just for celebrities and politicians. Is that correct?” “But isn’t that low-income housing area home to thousands of people who are still protesting?” “Do you plan on evicting them, making them homeless?” As the questions grew sharper, Victor, Damon’s right-hand man, shot a pointed look at the bodyguards, who began guiding the reporters back. Swiftly, Victor opened the car door, and I slid inside, leaving the disappointed press to swallow the sharp wards collected on their barded tongues. I let out a sigh as we pulled away, watching the crowd shrink in the rearview mirror. “You said there wouldn’t be any media tonight,” I said, my voice clipped. Attention was not something that I looked for since they made me go off script which was risky. For the cameras, I had to smile—a smile so forced my jaw ached. “My apologies, sir,” Victor said, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “It seems someone leaked your location. I’ll look into it thoroughly…” I waved him off, “Don’t waste your time with that. Just notify Damon, they leaked his location not mine. And make sure I get a heads-up next time.” Victor nodded in response. Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the noise of the world around me. I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in what felt like months. Every time Damon needed me to take his place, I was there, and the weight of that responsibility was taking its toll. At least now that he’d secured the bid for the Sun City project, my part was over. Maybe now I'll get some time to myself. “Mr. Damon is expecting you on a video call,” Victor reminded me, with the faintest hint of irony in his voice. I cracked an eye open to give him a look. “I’m sure he’d rather not see my face staring back at him right now,” I muttered. “It’s nighttime in America, and he’s probably got some woman warming his bed. I’ll leave him a message if possible. I’m done for the night. Please take me home.” Victor nodded, his expression unreadable as he focused on the road. I caught a glimpse of myself in the window’s reflection. Twenty-six years old, yet my life wasn’t really my own. Not the luxury penthouse, not the money, nor the public persona. I was just the shadow that stood in when Damon was in need. For over a decade, since I was fourteen, I’d played his double in exchange for a paycheck—as a way to survive. Soon, we pulled up in front of the penthouse. I stepped out of the car and made my way inside, peeling off the coat the moment I hit the elevator. By the time I entered the apartment, the usual opulence lay spread out before me—the artwork, the firearms, the opulent furniture, all meticulously arranged in a display of wealth. None of it felt real to me. Ignoring the lavish meal laid out on the table, I went straight to the bedroom, dropping onto the king-size bed. The ceiling above me stretched out in ornate patterns, mocking in their elegance. I might have lived the life of a rich man, but it was all an illusion. I was an imposter. Nothing here was truly mine, except for my own face, the face that happened to be a photocopy of Damon’s. A face that earned me a living by pretending to be someone else. But there has been no harm in it so far. I stared at the ceiling until my eyes grew heavy, and exhaustion finally dragged me under. Nothing had gone wrong so far, so why would anything go wrong now? With that thought, I slipped into sleep, unaware that in less than a day later I’d be fighting to survive. The sharp knock at my door snapped me awake, I groaned, barely cracking an eye open to see Victor standing in the doorway, with a suit in his hand. Victor was always there—Damon’s right-hand man, assigned to be my shadow around the clock. He handled everything from managing my schedule to taking on the role of my bodyguard, driver, secretary, even a servant when needed. As Damon’s confidant, he knew every detail of my life. Some days, he felt like a life line. With him by my side, nothing had gone wrong so far because he would jump in when things would go off script for me. Even though he had a stone-like face that knew no expression or emotions to show, I liked his company. But I always found it strange that even if he knew I was not the real Damon, younger than him and lower than him in every way, he always showed me respect. “You have a flight to catch in two hours,” he announced, stepping into the room with that matter-of-fact tone of his. I glanced at the clock. Four hours of sleep. Perfect. “Where am I going now?” I mumbled, trying to wake up enough to register the conversation. “This time, I don't even know the specifics. Mr. Damon gave the orders directly. You’re headed to Australia for a charity event representing the company.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to process. “I was promised a week off after the Sun City project wrapped up,” I reminded him, annoyed. The plan was clear. I’d get a break after covering for Damon over the past few weeks. “Mr. Damon has to stay in the States for a few more days to handle some business,” Victor replied, unfazed. “The charity event is important for the company’s image. He can’t make it, so you’ll need to attend. As for your time off, don’t worry about it.” He placed a passport and plane ticket on the bed. I eyed the documents, noticing he’d set them down instead of holding onto them as usual. “You’re not coming with me?” I raised an eyebrow. Victor’s mouth twitched in a rare hint of a smile. “You mentioned a few days ago that you wanted your week of vacation alone, without anyone following you. Consider it a gesture of goodwill.” And with that, he turned and left the room. I picked up the ticket, feeling a small spark of relief. Finally, some time on my own. Even if I had to make a quick appearance at this charity event first, maybe this was my shot at an actual break. Though I knew it was only a PR move for the company, an excuse to build goodwill without any real intention of helping anyone. Still orders were orders, and I’d learned not to argue. My job was to play the part, nothing more. After a quick shower, I pulled on the suit Victor had prepared. By the time I came downstairs, he was waiting, luggage in hand. As always, he handed me a watch—something I constantly forgot. Details mattered, right down to the accessories. Damon wouldn’t risk a slip-up over something so small, and neither would I, not when my paycheck depended on it. The car ride to the airport was uneventful, but the moment I walked into the terminal, I felt eyes on me from somewhere unseen. I’d had the same feeling earlier, too, but brushed it off. Now it was stronger. I glanced around, but saw no one suspicious. Could it be the media? The thought made my fists clench. My vacation was supposed to be private. The last thing I needed was more headlines, more cameras. Ignoring the discomfort, I checked in and finally boarded the plane, settling into my seat. I was determined to hang onto this sliver of time for myself. This week was supposed to be a reset—eat, sleep, and breathe without anyone watching. Just a taste of normal life, with no one interrupting me and no work. Eight hours later, the plane touched down in Australia, and I was greeted by the usual formalities. A driver holding a sign that read Damon escorted me to the VIP suite of the hotel, the kind of room that dripped with luxury, but where I felt more like an intruder than a guest. After changing into yet another polished suit, I was soon ushered into the charity event, my role reduced to delivering a pre-written speech and mingling with business elites. The event felt never-ending. Handshakes, forced laughter, endless questions—everyone wanted something, each conversation feeling like a test of my interest in the business world. But my eyes were full of fake interest as I listened to their dirty business dealings. Having lived the life of Damon for the last twelve years even God himself would not find any redeeming quality or difference among these conniving old men. The room was packed with donors, business partners, and allies of the company, all eager to make a good impression. But there was only so much I could handle. Hours dragged by, but finally, after what felt like a hundred glasses of champagne and more small talk than I could stomach, I managed to slip away. Dinner was next, this time with a handful of key partners, and I knew it would be even more unbearable—hours of dry, business chatter from men who talked in circles around themselves. After a few obligatory glasses of wine, I made my exit, signaling the end of my duties for the day. I left the rest to the secretary, who seemed eager enough to take over. Back in the hotel room, I tossed my suit jacket on the bed, grabbed my luggage, and checked out. This was it—my time off, finally within reach. I stepped outside, taking a deep breath as I looked up at the night sky. Freedom. No guards shadowing me, no handlers telling me what to do. Just me, a bag, and the wide-open world. Now I could breathe. Until I remembered something important. I hadn’t reached the hotel on me own; the company had arranged a driver for me, which meant I didn’t have a way back to the hotel without booking a ride. Just as I reached for my phone to call a cab, my gaze caught on a taxi parked across the street. It seemed... convenient. Too convenient. The driver sat there, staring straight ahead, like he was waiting for someone. I needed a cab and it was there. My luck was never this generous to me. My instincts prickled. Then I noticed a woman step out of the back seat, rushing toward a man who’d just exited the hotel. They embraced, their reunion warm and genuine. I exhaled, feeling a little foolish. Clearly, the taxi had already been in use, which explained its presence. I was about to look away when the cab’s engine revved. It was getting ready to leave. “Oh no!” I lunged forward, catching it just before it could pull off. No way was I waiting around for another ride. Jumping into the back seat, I gave the driver my hotel’s address. Finally, I could let my guard down. The driver nodded, and the cab slipped into the flow of traffic, the city lights blurring by as we drove. I felt a wave of relief washing over me, the kind that comes only when you’re alone, off-duty, and no one is watching. For the next few days, I could finally be myself. Or at least, I could try to remember who that was. The hum of the car had lulled me, the soft night air drifting through the window as we drove along quieter roads. For the first time in weeks, I felt the weight of exhaustion easing. My eyes grew heavy, and I let them drift shut, slipping into that half-sleep where the world around you fades away. Then, suddenly, the car jerked, brakes screeching, and I was thrown awake, instinctively grabbing the seat. My heart pounded as I glanced around, confused and groggy. “What the…” I muttered, looking up just in time to see the driver stepping out of the car. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even glance back. Instead, he walked toward a biker who’d appeared out of nowhere, waiting on the side of the road. Without hesitation, my driver climbed onto the back of the bike, and in a flash, they both sped off, the sound of the motorcycle fading into the distance. I blinked, trying to process what had just happened. “HEY!” I shouted, jumping out of the taxi, my voice echoing in the empty road. “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?!” But they were gone, leaving me alone in the middle of nowhere with nothing but an abandoned car. I kicked the gravel, rage bubbling up. What the hell kind of joke was this? A prank? Who would go to such lengths? And what kind of professional driver just abandons his car and passenger like that? It did not make any sense. My hand dragged through my hair as I stared down the empty, unfamiliar road. The reality of my situation was setting in fast, and the isolation felt like it was pressing in from all sides. I’d have to either hail another cab somehow or drive this abandoned one myself, but the truth was, I had no idea where I was. My fists clenched, frustration seething under my skin. “Don’t ever let me find you, you bastard! I’ll kill you!” I yelled, my voice echoing into the silent darkness. As the words left my mouth, I knew it wouldn’t change a thing, but it felt like the only bit of control I had left. Turning back toward the cab, I took a few steps, contemplating my next move, when a faint sound came from behind me. Footsteps. I froze. The night seemed to sharpen around me, every nerve on edge, listening. I could’ve sworn I’d been alone. No one else had been on this road, not for miles… or so I thought. My heart hammered, and a chill traced its way up my spine. The darkness seemed to close in, each shadow somehow darker than the last. I told myself it was nothing, that it was just the wind or some stray animal passing through. But that feeling—that feeling of a presence, sharp and deliberate—was impossible to shake. I forced myself to take a steadying breath, as an uneasy tension coiled in my chest. This was wrong. I needed to get out of here, and fast. As I had just made the decision to make a run for the cab, a deafening explosion tore through the silence. In a flash, the car I’d just been sitting in was engulfed in flames, a blistering wave of heat and twisted metal blowing me backward. I staggered, mind reeling, heart slamming in my chest. The reality of it hit me hard—if I’d been inside, there wouldn’t have been anything left of me. I’d been a breath away from death, and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Before I could process the shock, I felt it: warm breath against my ear, and then a voice—low, smooth, laced with deadly intent. “Feeling lucky?” The words slithered down my spine, leaving me paralyzed, trapped in the menace woven into his tone. A primal fear gripped me, urging me to run, but before I could take a step, an iron grip clamped around my waist, pulling me backward. My heart pounded as I tried to scream, but his hand muffled every sound, my frantic attempts to break free met with effortless, brutal strength. It was like fighting against stone. Darkness swallowed me, and I lost track of time, slipping into unconsciousness. When I came to, the world around me was close, confined—bars pressing in from every side. It took me a second to realize I was in a cage, barely big enough to stand in. Panic clawed at my throat, and I took in a ragged breath, trying to make sense of it. “Why would someone kidnap me?” I muttered, my voice thin and foreign. A cold sweat beaded on my forehead as footsteps echoed in the silence, slow and deliberate. They grew louder, and then I saw him. Sleek, polished shoes stopped right in front of the cage. My gaze followed up from his feet, meeting striking brown eyes that held mine with an intensity that was almost inhuman. My breath hitched. The man was unnervingly, huntingly handsome, like a figure sculpted by the gods, radiating both beauty and danger. He leaned in, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Welcome to hell, Damon," he sneered, the venom in his words mixing in my soul. I felt my blood run cold. Damon. He called me Damon.