Abducted By Hercules

5

I can feel a bead of sweat drip down from the side of my forehead, trail lazily to the tip of my chin and with soft plop fall onto the kitchen counter. With the back of my hand, I wipe my wet face, again. Even though the burning heat of the stove surrounds me tightly, making it a little difficult for me to breathe there’s a smile on my face that I can’t seem to remove because for the first time in days, I finally feel like I'm right in my apartment. If I close my eyes, it’s easy to imagine Papa sitting behind me at the small circular table, waiting till I drop the freshly made Naan Roti’s onto his plate. It’s easy to imagine him talking about his childhood in India and me missing mine then too. Even when standing alone in the large, rich kitchen of the devils house, using equipment I've never seen while dripping with smelly sweat, it’s easy to imagine that my life didn’t completely take an unexpected, sharp turn a few days ago.

I haven’t seen the devil since the night I met Alex and he disappeared with him, which was three days ago. He didn’t come later into my room to continue what he started like I expected him to. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. I miss the company mostly.  When I'm not in the kitchen, cooking every Indian meal, I know, I'm in my room, sitting by the window feeling more alone than ever. It’s funny how moving to just another place in the same house makes me feel differently. But on the good side, I've gotten used to living here. I don’t wake up in the middle of the night and wonder where I am in panic. I still get nightmares of the devil and Papa but I've learnt to ignore them. And I’m trying to ignore other thoughts as well, one of them being where on earth has the devil been staying for the last couple days?

After being alone for an entire day, I started to leave my bedroom door open while I slept so that I would hear him if he ever comes back during the middle of the night. It’s not because I worried if he was alive or dead. In fact, I didn’t care if he was bleeding to death in a gutter right now. That son of a b***h doesn’t deserve even a second of my worry, But because I don’t want him to catch me off-guard with his arrival. When I'm by myself, looking through my open windows at the lush green garden below that I'm locked inside from, I make up stories of the devils life in my mind to help me be calm instead of feeling uneasy that I don’t know a single detail about him apart from knowing that he has no heart nor a soul.

I imagine his real name to be something that sounds sinful like Lucifer. In my mind, he’s eight years older than me and owns a real estate firm where mostly boring people work at, including Alex. He lives in another state, in another house that’s filled with more riches and space than this mansion. Maybe, he has a family living with him but not a wife or any kids because men like him are unable to be emotionally attached to someone or something except to their own self-power and dominance. And it is because of his normal life and overpowering need for control, he has sluts to play with, me being one of them.

Maybe my assumptions of his life are a little too extreme but they are completely believable. He could be stalking another innocent woman right now to own as his next toy. The house I stay at, maybe is his w***e house where he keeps his playthings at to f**k and humiliate whenever he feels like it. And once he gets tired of her p***y he moves on to the next fresh p***y he finds. This makes me remember how it felt to have his toned body pinned against my bare skin, the way his fingers moved in and out of my hungry hole, the way his hot breath and whispered dirty words felt on the side on my neck. Every thought and made up stories about him makes me feel only more disgusted. What would I have been thinking now if Alex had never interrupted us?

I shake myself from the images of the devil tearing through my innocence from taking over my mind; I flip the Roti that’s been heating, onto the plate and turn off the stove. My mouth waters as I eye the amount of food spread put on the table and I hear a low rumble in my belly. As today is a Friday, just like every other Friday night for the past five years, I made naan, paneer butter masala, chicken tandoori and a few more extra curries. I thank god for the devil being oh, so polite and leaving the kitchen open and filled with all the ingredients. After cleaning up, I feel the exhaustion of the hours of continuous cooking creep up on me and the heat of the fire making my skin slick with sweat roll down my body. The need for a cold shower takes over my hunger and I shuffle up the stairs. Stripping away from my clothes, I immediately step under the spray of water and sigh in content. But my muscles don’t relax for long. When I hear the front door slam shut, I feel my body tense and my eyes snap open.

He’s here. I scramble from under the comforting fall and hurriedly throw on a pair of dark leggings and a t-shirt. Not bothering to dry my wet hair, I rush down the stairs, almost tripping on my own feet.

“Goddamn,” I hear Alex say even before I enter the kitchen. “Everything here smells so f*****g good and thank f**k for that because I'm starving.”

“Thank you, Alex,” I respond to him as I step from the corner. I feel both their heads jerk up towards me but I continue to pretend as if I'm completely calm and not affected by the devil's heavy gaze fixed on me while I walk around to get the plates but not the cutlery. When we had just moved to the United States, I recall Papa telling me that Indian food had to be eaten like an Indian or not eaten at all. I struggle to swallow down the feeling of nostalgia while I think of him.

“Holy s**t, did you really make all this, naked Neha?” Alex asks while politely taking a plate from my hand and begins to fill it and that’s when my captor redirects his glare at his friend who’s wholly unaware that he’s being threatened right now. The aroma of spices and roasted garlic surrounds us and as my stomach begins to protest, I follow Alex’s lead and pill up my own plate.

“No, I can’t cook”, I speak with a mouth full of food, not bothering if either of them finds it disgusting. Papa was strict on manners just like most north indian parents, but I choose to ignore all of what I've learnt from him while I sit in front of the deadly silent devil. Whom am I trying to impress here, anyway?

“There’s a sweet lady next door who came over to teach me how to cook a few dishes while the both of you were gone, she helped me make these tonight as well,” I say sarcastically, and Alex rolls his eyes with a smile before pushing a handful of food into his mouth. When the devil finally picks up his own plate, I detect an unwelcome feeling of nervousness running through me when I think of if he would like my cooking or not.

 After a few seconds of quiet, I ask, “Did you finally remember that the girl you kidnapped was still at your w***e house?” with my vision still on my food, I direct the question at my villain and sense as his eyes fall onto me again.

“w***e house?” Alex voices out with confusion at the same time the devil needles, “And did you forget who you're talking to?” The air around us instantly thickens with agitation and even Alex makes less noise. I straighten my shoulders as a lame attempt to cover up the anxiety I feel while just one simple question grows the anger inside the devil.

“Tell me, sweet Neha. Did you forget all that I could do to you if you keep talking to me in that tone?”

I exhale heavily in irritation, making sure he knows that fear isn’t running through me right now and then boldly raise my head to lock eyes with him for the first time in three days. “Do whatever you want and then leave me alone here for another week next time maybe. I liked it better when I didn’t have to see your ugly face while you make empty threats.” From the corner of my eyes, I see Alex warn me with a glare that I shouldn’t say anything that I know would land me in trouble but I ignore him.

“why-“, the sound of the devil's chair scraping against the carpet as he pushes back to stand cuts me off. Without uttering a single word, he moves to wash his hands and then storms up the stairs. Even though I think of how childish he’s being, I know that I'm very wrong. I know that he left, leaving his dinner almost untouched because he plans on feasting on my tears and pain later. Now, I'm the one who feels like an absolute child for trying to go against him but I don’t regret it, if anything, I feel a pinch of fire still lit in my chest and I hope that gives me strength to survive the rest of the night.

“That was stupid, but I have a feeling it isn’t your first time talking to him like that”, Alex eyes me from across the table. “Nor would it be your last”.

“I'm not used to being treated like this but that doesn’t mean I’ll not try my best to defend myself.”

“The man he has made you think he is, is nothing compared to the man he really is. You should be grateful for the way he treats you now, Neha”, Alex’s tone turns deadly serious. “If he wants to, in just five minutes, he can make you want to take a blade to your wrist until you're nothing but just a dead body”.

I freeze at his words, reliving my dream where I watched my father stab his own self until he was nothing but just a dead body. I was wrong about one thing I thought I knew about the devil. He does have a heart and soul but they both only beat and live for one thing and that is to sin. My captor doesn’t live in hell, hell lives inside of him.

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I'll only Continue " Cruel Husband " if I get 500 Hearts 

life was always fair with me but I wasn't satisfied with anything. I always wanted more and that more made me what I am today.

I am helpless......

I am alone.........

I am shattered........

I am broken.............

I never care about all these words but the day when Hercules entered my life, I understood the meaning of all these words.

first Aryan broke me, I thought I'll move on, I'll start a new life, I'll forget everything and never trust any men again.

I was aware of Hercules, I knew he doesn't love me, he was only trapping me in the net of his love and I let him do that.

as our Ancestors told us many times about love like "love is blind" this is what happened with me, Hercules fake love made me blind.

Hercules snatched everything from me as he promised me.

I told him that I'll never fall in love with him but he promised me, that he'll make me fall in love with him.

I told him that "I won't let him enter in my world " and he promised that "soon you'll make me your world,"

today he threw me out of his life but I can't go back to my old life again, I have no destination, no ambitions, no hopes, and no reason to live this life nor I have the guts to write" by letter to my Family "

I was never the kind of person who gives up on her life so easily but he changed me, he completely f****d my life and Today I am standing in front of my death.

yeah, I am here to commit suicide because Hercules snatched everyone's reason for my breaths. I am madly in love with that bastard and now no one can take his place in my life.....................

I closed my eyes and jumped into the water..............