HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Amelia

When I stumbled through my front door, the world spun in lazy, drunken circles, the remnants of the night clinging to me like a lingering haze. I couldn’t even recall how I’d gotten home. I could barely make it across the room without tripping over my own feet. The air felt thick and heavy, my body leaden with exhaustion and alcohol.

I kicked off my heels, feeling the cool floor beneath my bare feet, a small relief that grounded me momentarily. My bed seemed miles away, but somehow, I found my way there, collapsing onto the mattress without even bothering to change. The room swayed gently around me, and I let myself sink into the softness, too worn out to care about anything else .

As I lay there, my thoughts blurred, drifting between fragments of the night—the heat of Jake’s lips, the way we’d laughed and moved together, the freedom I’d felt in those fleeting moments. A drowsy smile tugged at my lips, but it faded as the memory of Damien’s words clawed its way back, piercing through the fog in my mind.

But I was too tired, too lost in the haze, to dwell on it. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness swallow me whole, drifting off as if nothing else mattered, as if sleep might wash away every worry, every consequence, even if just for a little while.

A gentle touch brushed against my hair, fingertips trailing down to my cheek. I murmured in sleepy satisfaction, leaning into the warmth. It felt comforting, almost tender, and my lips curled into a slight smile. But as my eyes slowly fluttered open, that warmth turned cold.

Damien was lying beside me, his face just inches from mine. He was on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching me in the dim, shadowy light that filtered through the window. The faint glow from outside barely lit his face, but it was enough to catch the dangerous glint in his eyes, fixed intently on me .

I sucked in a sharp breath, instinctively shrinking back, but my head throbbed in protest. The alcohol still lingered, fogging my mind, making it hard to grasp the reality of him being here. My pulse quickened, shock mingling with confusion.

“Damien…?” My voice came out weak, barely more than a whisper.

His hand didn’t move from my face; his thumb traced the line of my cheekbone, the touch deceptively gentle. “Didn’t expect me?” he murmured, his tone low, with that familiar, unsettling edge. His gaze flickered over me, taking in my disheveled state, the remnants of the night written all over me.

My mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory—the party, the dancing, Jake . A wave of unease washed over me. I tried to sit up, but his hand was suddenly at my shoulder, pressing me back down, firm yet maddeningly soft.

“Had fun tonight?” he asked, his voice laced with something dangerous, something that made the hair on my arms stand on end .

I opened my mouth to respond, but a muffled sound made me stop. My eyes narrowed in confusion, and I frowned, glancing toward the source. In the dark corner of my room, where the shadows pooled thick and heavy, a figure was kneeling on the floor.

Jake .

My heart dropped. He was bound with rope, wrists tied tightly behind his back, his mouth covered with a strip of tape. His eyes were wide, wild with fear, silently pleading. I scrambled upright, a horrified gasp tearing from my throat as I took in the scene, my mind barely able to process it.

“What… Damien, what have you done?” I choked out, voice trembling.

Damien didn’t look at me. He was watching Jake, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. He leaned back leisurely, as though this was all a sick game meant purely for his amusement. “Didn’t I tell you to stay silent ?” he said, his tone dangerously low, almost mocking .

Jake flinched, visibly struggling against his bonds, his muffled protests barely audible under the tape. I felt my stomach twist, a sickening cocktail of fear and guilt roiling inside me. I reached for Damien’s hand, desperate, pleading.

“ Please , let him go,” I whispered, voice raw with panic.

Damien’s eyes locked on me, dark and electric, his lips curling into a savage, mocking smile. “Let him go?” he repeated, as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. His grip on my chin tightened, his fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks. He dragged my face closer, his whiskey eyes boring into mine with unhinged intensity. “You think I’d just let that slide , Millie? That I’d let some bastard put his fucking hands on what’s mine ?”

I twisted in his hold, panic clawing at me, but his grip was unrelenting. “Damien, please! He didn’t know! He didn’t—he’s innocent . This is my fault. Let him go. I’m begging you.”

He released me suddenly, and I stumbled back, my heart pounding so hard it drowned out the world. Then, he slowly rose from the bed, his gaze fixed on Jake with a terrifying calmness. Each step he took toward him was deliberate, almost calculated, as if savoring the moment. His shadow loomed over Jake, who was visibly shaking, helpless against the ropes binding him.

“I warned you, Amelia,” Damien said, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that echoed in the silence of the room. “I told you what would happen if you let him touch you. But you didn’t listen.”

My heart hammered in my chest, the weight of his words sinking in. Then, a glint of light caught my eye—a silver gleaming in Damien’s hand. I blinked, dread pooling in my stomach as I realized what it was: a knife , sharp and cold, reflecting the dim light that seeped through the window.

“Damien,” I whispered, my voice shaking as dread coursed through me. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer for a while, his focus now entirely on Jake, who was slumped against the corner, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with terror. Damien stepped toward him with an agonizing slowness, each step deliberate, calculated, like a lion circling its prey. He twirled the knife lazily between his fingers, the movement almost casual, like it was a toy instead of a weapon .

He turned slightly, just enough to look back at me, an unreadable expression on his face. “What I have to,” he said, voice dripping with a twisted calm that chilled me to the bone. “I can’t give empty promises. You understand that, don’t you?

I shook my head, too stunned to move, but my voice finally broke through, trembling. “Please, don’t… Damien, please. This isn’t what you want.”

Jake’s muffled whimpers filled the room as Damien crouched down in front of him, his grin widening as he grabbed a fistful of Jake’s hair. He yanked his head back, forcing their gazes to meet. “And you?” Damien hissed, his voice low and venomous, leaning closer until his face was inches from Jake’s. He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “I told you to stay away from her, didn’t I?” His grip tightened as he gave a cruel tug on Jake’s hair, making him wince.

A sick realization dawned on me: Damien must have warned Jake to stay away from me. That was why Jake hadn’t reached out since our date, why he’d vanished without explanation. The pieces clicked together, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth .

Jake’s eyes darted to me, a mixture of regret and apology flashing through them. But Damien yanked his head back, forcing him to focus solely on him. “Do you think you could ignore me?” Damien taunted, his voice as sharp as the blade he held. He pressed the flat of the knife against Jake’s cheek, a cold threat that was just a heartbeat away from violence. “I told you what the price would be, didn’t I?”

I stepped forward, desperate, voice trembling. “Damien, please—this is insane . Just let him go. This isn’t who you are—”

Damien’s gaze flickered toward me, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he stood behind Jake, his grip tightening on his hair, pulling his head back with ruthless control. Jake’s face contorted with fear, his muffled pleas barely audible under the tape. Damien pressed the blade against Jake’s neck, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was savoring each moment.

“Oh, Millie,” he murmured, his voice almost affectionate, but laced with something twisted and unhinged. “You still don’t understand, do you?” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked on mine, the cold amusement in his eyes sending a shiver down my spine. “There’s no limit to what I’ll do for you.”

My legs felt rooted to the floor as I watched, horror gripping me, my heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. “Damien, please … this isn’t… he’s not… you don’t have to do this,” I stammered, desperation clear in every word. But he only smirked, his eyes flicking between me and the knife in his hand, as if my fear was merely fuel to him.

And then, with a swift, vicious motion, Damien’s blade sliced through Jake’s neck . The sound wasn’t loud—a wet, almost muted whisper of metal against flesh—but it echoed in my skull like a scream .

He killed him.

He killed Jake .

He killed him because of me .

Jake’s body jerked violently, his breath hitching in a strangled gurgle as his hands clawed instinctively at his throat. Blood , dark and thick, spilled between his fingers, cascading in angry torrents down his chest and pooling at his knees. It soaked into the soft carpet beneath him—a vivid, horrifying reminder of Damien’s promise, now fulfilled .

I stood frozen, eyes wide as life drained from Jake right in front of me. The carpet, that same soft carpet Damien had taunted me about, was now smeared in blood, dark and spreading like a grotesque stain that wouldn’t just be on the floor—it would be etched into my mind forever . My mind screamed at me to do something, anything, but my body was paralyzed, bound by fear and disbelief.

Finally, the shock broke, and my body jolted to life. I staggered forward, rushing to Jake’s side as my knees hit the blood-soaked carpet. My hands trembled as I reached out, fingers pressing against his shoulders, shaking him desperately. “Jake,” I choked out, my voice barely a whisper, almost a prayer. “ Please , wake up.”

But he was gone . His skin, once warm, was already chilling beneath my touch, and his eyes stared blankly past me, seeing nothing. I shook him harder, the denial clawing through me as his blood spread across my hands, warm and thick, covering me as if it were my own guilt pouring from his veins. The coppery scent filled my nostrils, almost suffocating, mixing with the tears that spilled down my face .

I couldn’t breathe. The weight of it all crashed over me, drowning me in horror and regret. I cradled his head in my hands, whispering his name, begging , as if somehow my voice alone could call him back.

“Now,” Damien growled, his hand clamping around my jaw with a force that made my bones ache. The bloodied knife hovered mere inches from my face, its metallic edge catching the faint light, a sinister gleam that made my stomach twist. He dragged me up by my jaw, fingers digging in, leaving bruises that would stay long after he’d gone.

“It’s your turn to learn, Millie,” he whispered, his voice a dark promise that chilled me to the core. My breath caught as a wild panic flared through me, every nerve screaming that this was it , that he was about to end me right here, next to the lifeless body on my floor. My eyes widened, a frantic beat hammering in my chest, but he only smirked, feeding off my fear.

His hand shifted to my throat, fingers curling around it with bruising force, like a vice tightening just enough to remind me who held the power. He stepped forward, his strides relentless and calculated, backing me up with every step. I couldn’t do anything but stumble, his grip controlling my every movement. The pressure against my neck wasn’t enough to cut off my breath completely—but it was a threat , sharp and palpable, a silent promise of what he could do if he chose to.

My legs hit the edge of the bed, and before I could steady myself, he shoved me down, his strength unyielding. The mattress creaked beneath me as I scrambled back on instinct, desperate to put space between us. But there was nowhere to go—no escape from him , no escaping this .

But even now, I didn’t know if I really wanted to escape him.

His hand shot out, clamping around my ankle as he dragged me back toward him. The world tilted, the air shifting as he climbed onto the bed, settling between my legs.

His eyes were wild, whiskey flames burning with madness , flickering between hunger and fury. He grinned—a dark, twisted grin that sent a bolt of fear and excitement straight through me.

“Look at you,” Damien growled, his voice rough and manic, like he was barely holding himself together. “Fucking perfect , even now. Even after letting that piece of shit touch you. ”

I barely had time to react before his hands moved to the delicate fabric of my dress. A flash of silver caught my eye—the knife glinting in his hand, dripping with Jake’s blood. My breath hitched as he slid the blade along the black tulle, tearing it apart with savage precision. The soft rip of fabric filled the room, each shred falling away, leaving me in my corset and lace underwear, exposed beneath his consuming gaze.

I flinched as the knife moved again, the tip grazing my lips with unnerving gentleness. My stomach twisted, bile rising as I realized what coated the blade. Jake’s blood . His death lingered on the cold steel, and now it brushed against me like some sick reminder of Damien’s dominance.

He chuckled, low and dark, his eyes locked on mine as the blade trailed downward. It kissed the column of my throat, sending a shiver through me, then slid slowly over the curve of my chest. The pressure was light, teasing.

“I have to fix you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of reverence. “ Cleanse you from him. Wipe away every fucking trace he left on what’s mine .”

His words hung heavy in the air, laced with venom and obsession. The knife pressed against the corset now, vibrating faintly with the beat of my heart, as though it could feel the chaos raging inside me.

And that chaos… It was wrong . My body betrayed me, heat pooling low in my stomach even as fear clawed at my throat. My pulse quickened, not just from fear but from something far darker, something I couldn’t explain.

Jake’s blood was on my lips , and somehow, that thought set me on fire .

The realization hit like a freight train, sick and twisted , but undeniable. My breathing hitched as the sensation built, shame and panic tangling with that inexplicable heat.

Damien saw it. Of course, he did. His smirk deepened, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he said, dragging the knife lower, savoring every shudder that wracked my body. “You feel how fucking ruined you are. Don’t lie to me, Millie. Not now.”

I shook my head, the denial spilling out in a broken gasp. But even I didn’t believe it. Damien’s gaze burned into me, as if daring me to deny the truth—to deny him .

As I felt him pushing the knife handle deeper inside me, I felt the heat rising, a betrayal that seeped into every inch of my skin, my pulse quickening against my will.

My body defied me, reacting with an intensity that made me weak . I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to keep myself composed, but then he twisted the knife, forcing a moan out of my mouth.

I knew that was wrong , but I couldn’t help myself.

“ Ah ,” he breathed, voice dripping with satisfaction. “Your body knows who it belongs to, even if you refuse to admit it. ”

He gripped the blade with a fierce determination, the metal biting into his skin as he pressed the handle deeper into me, pushing and pulling in a slow, relentless rhythm. Blood began to seep from his palm, the crimson streaks staining my pussy, winding lines that spread with each motion, as if he were marking me, branding me.

Another moan escaped my lips, one I couldn’t hold back, as his grip tightened around my throat. The sound seemed to provoke something primal in him, a dark satisfaction flaring in his eyes as he watched me struggle beneath him. Before I could protest, he leaned down, his breath hot against my skin, and his teeth grazed the curve of my neck, almost teasing.

And then he sank his teeth into my flesh, a possessive bite that sent a sharp pulse of heat through my body. I felt his low, guttural growl reverberate against my skin, dark and dangerous, as he held me in place, fucking me relentlessly with the knife-handle. My heart pounded wildly, pleasure flooding my head. His fingers were keeping me pinned as his bite softened but lingered, his mouth tracing a path of raw, bruising possession along my neck.

He paused for a moment, glancing at the crimson-streaked mess beneath his hand, a strange satisfaction curling at the edges of his mouth as he observed his handiwork.

With a low, almost inaudible growl, he resumed, each movement a twisted display of control, as though he were pouring every dark impulse into the act. The blood continued to flow, mingling with my own juices, staining it further as he lost himself in the rhythm—an act of possession , of claiming .

My skin tingled, painfully aware of the pleasure building at the pit of my stomach, of how close I was, of the control he wielded over me in that moment. I hissed as I felt his lips press against the mark he left on my neck, a twisted, dark kiss meant not for comfort, but for dominance . He whispered against my skin, his voice dark and full of desire, “Every part of you is mine.” then, he pushed the handle deep inside of me, leaving it there.

With a swift, merciless tug, he pulled me out of bed, forcing me down, the impact resonating through me as my knees hit the blood-soaked floor. I bit my bottom lip as the tip of the blade between my legs met the hard floor, making the handle move inside me.

He kept his grip firm, tilting my head back just enough to meet his gaze, his eyes alight with a twisted satisfaction. His free hand traced down the side of my face, almost gently. The light brush of his fingers was deceptive, mocking the power he held, his thumb grazing over my lips, pressing just enough to force them open slightly.

“You look perfect like this,” he murmured darkly, his voice a low, possessive growl that sent a shiver down my spine. “On your knees, exactly where you should be.”

“Now,” Damien pulled down his pants and underwear in one swift move, revealing his thick, hard cock. I gulped as he started stroking himself with his bloodied hand, smearing the crimson liquid all over himself, the sight turning me on even more. “why don’t you open that little mouth for me, hmm?”

He pulled my head closer to him, the hint of satisfaction in his eyes was unmistakable as he brushed his bloody cock against my face; he reveled in my helplessness, fed off it, savoring the tension in every inch of my body. And I liked it .

The intensity in his eyes was almost unbearable—dark, consuming, as if he could see right through me, right down to the part of me that didn’t want him to stop.

He pressed the tip of his cock against my lips, firm and insistent , leaving no choice but to open my mouth and take it in. He pushed it past my lips with a force that bordered on cruel, his thickness filling my mouth so completely, leaving me struggling for air.

His thumb was brushing over my cheek with a dark amusement, watching my every reaction with a twisted satisfaction as my lips struggled to wrap around his length, “Struggling already? You’re going to have to do better than that.”

His hand pressed firmly on my jaw, holding me in place as he pushed his cock into my mouth, each movement slow, deliberate, yet unrelenting. In and out, the hard cock filled every inch of space, and I felt the pressure against my lips as he forced it deeper , as if testing my limits, his fingers curling possessively under my chin to keep me steady. My mind went hazy, every coherent thought scattering under the weight of his control, as if he were deliberately trying to erase them, leaving me with only the sensation, only his presence consuming me completely.

My breath hitched each time he withdrew, only to push it back in with a twisted satisfaction, watching me with that intense, predatory gaze that sent shivers down my spine. It was maddening —the way he seemed to enjoy toying with my restraint, stretching the boundaries of my compliance, forcing me to surrender inch by inch.

I moaned around his cock as the tip of the knife-handle I had inside me made contact with the floor. And I repeated the same movement again , and again , feeling it twist inside me and driving me crazy .

The room seemed to fade around us, the only thing I could focus on was his relentless rhythm, making it harder and harder to catch my breath, harder still to resist the pull he had over me.

His smirk deepened as he grabbed me from the throat, pulling me up slightly, his voice low and taunting. “Did I give you permission to pleasure yourself?” he murmured, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. I struggled against his hold as his hand tightened around my neck. “You can come only when I allow you to. Do you understand?”

A slap to my face made it clear that he was waiting for an answer. I struggled to nod. “Good girl.”

He continued thrusting into my mouth, in and out, making me choke on my own saliva while struggling to breathe. I felt powerless , used , humiliated , yet my pussy was clenching around the handle as the heat kept rising.

With a loud thud, my knees came into contact with the floor as he released my neck from his hold. Damien didn’t give me any time to breathe properly as he pushed himself on top of me, he twisted the handle one last time, his dark eyes fixated on my face, before pulling it out of me, replacing it with his hard cock instead.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he rolled his hips into mine. When I looked back into his eyes, they were as dark as the night itself, a bottomless abyss that seemed to pull me in deeper with every passing second. His gaze was intense , sharp , like it could cut through me if he wanted. But there was something else there too, something I hadn’t noticed before. A flicker of, sadness ? It was buried beneath the coldness, hidden so deep that it seemed like it wasn’t meant to be seen. It was fleeting, like a shadow slipping across a surface, but it was there—just enough to make my heart stop for a beat.

I wanted to look away, to ignore it, but the pull was too strong. There was a dark allure in those eyes, something magnetic that made it impossible to escape. He looked human for once, and that terrified me. It made the distance between us feel even more unreachable.

Without thinking, without any ounce of hesitation, my hands moved on their own. I buried them deep into his dark, unruly hair, fingers tangling in the strands as I yanked him closer. There was no space left between us, no distance, as if every inch of my body was screaming for him, urging me to close the gap, to fill that emptiness I didn’t know existed until now .

His breath hitched, and I could feel the tension in his body, the way he fought against the need rising between us. But I was desperate for him in a way I couldn’t explain. With every inch he tried to pull back, I pressed harder, digging my fingers into his skin, holding him captive to the chaos we were creating.

His resolve shattered, crumbling under the pressure of my touch, my need . And with a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine, he surrendered to the kiss. I felt his cock twitch inside me as his lips crashed into mine, hungry , as if he, too, had been holding back for far too long. The intensity of it was suffocating , consuming —like a fire that had finally found its fuel. There was no room for caution, no room for hesitation. Only the desperate, primal pull that dragged us deeper into this madness.

I bit down on his bottom lip as I came hard, feeling the pleasure explode in every nerve of my body in a way I never experienced before.

Damien hissed at the sharp pain from the bite, the sensation of my teeth sinking into his skin igniting something dark and primal within him. But he didn’t pull away—no, he leaned into it, craving more , as if the pain was a reminder of the twisted connection that thrummed between us. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as my teeth punctured deeper, the sweet, metallic taste of his blood flooding my mouth. The moment was intoxicating , both violent and tender in its rawness, like the calm before the storm. He gripped my throat again, his fingers digging into my flesh as though he needed to hold onto something to keep himself grounded, even though every part of him was spiraling into something darker .

There was something about that darkness—something intoxicating, something that made my pulse race with a perverse excitement. I let go, surrendering to the pull, letting the pressure build until my body could no longer resist.

His grip on me tightened, fingers digging into my skin like he wanted to consume me, to claim every inch of me, and I let him. I was drowning, but I didn’t care. The fog in my head thickened, every thought slipping further away as the world around me twisted and warped into something unrecognizable. The darkness was all-encompassing, seductive in its cruelty, and I let it take me, let it swallow me whole .

I didn’t need to breathe. I didn’t need anything. All that mattered was him . His presence consumed me, his touch branded me, marking me as his in ways no one else ever could. I wasn’t me anymore. I was just a vessel, a part of him now. My body burned with the desire, the ache , and the undeniable pull of him.

And as the last sliver of awareness flickered in my mind, the last thing I heard was his voice, rough and possessive as he came inside me. ‘Mine. ’

It was a declaration. A promise. And as the darkness claimed me fully, I let it—let him—take me in, knowing that when I woke, I would be his.