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Chapter 22

Waking up in the morning, the brightness of the day filters through the shutters. I gradually open my heavy eyes, my head thumping, a hangover creeping in. I lift my head, glancing around at my surroundings until I spot E still beside me in the same position as last night, facing away from me. Rolling onto my back, my head sinks into the pillow as I replay how Hell took me last night in ways I didn't know my body could handle.

After everything I endured in my childhood and early twenties, Hell is the only man I've ever met who I'd willingly allow to do these unholy things to my body under his control. No man has ever wanted both my body and my soul. Except for E, but it's not the same. Hell is far more superior in that respect.

When I feel something beside me, I peek under the duvet to see the mini dolly he made for me. My eyes ease, and I gently lift her out, analyzing every inch of her strange looks, noticing how much she resembles me. It's things like this, knowing he made this for me, it brings intense comfort to my shaded heart.

Little does Hell know, I was on the edge of bursting into tears when he gave it to me. He will never understand how much it meant. I can't even remember the last time I was given anything, let alone something made with such meaning. Growing up, I often didn't know what day or time of year it was. Birthdays and Christmases were all non-existent; gifts disappeared after my mom died. So, this tiny dolly means the entire world to me.

I lie there, placing her on my stomach, moving the arms like a little girl with her favorite toy, a tear slipping down my cheek. While lost in thought for some time, I find myself thinking about tomorrow, Dark Night, and how I will finally face everything. I have a twisted sense that I want some kind of control over the situation. I want to play games. So, tonight, I will be plotting a way to take Hellion before he takes me, because I can play too, right?

I visualize scenarios where I outmanoeuvre him, where I can hold the upper hand, if only for a moment. I imagine the look on his face when he realizes he had underestimated me. I want to show every single one of them that I belong here. This isn't just about the physical act—it's also about proving to myself that I am not weak and that I can stand up to any darkness within any man and meet it head-on. It's not about power; it's about survival, about reclaiming some part of myself that's been lost in the chaos of my past.

If I am ever going to fully trust Hell or even Hellion, then this is how it needs to be. I need to face everything on my terms. I will not be a fucking victim; I will be a force to be reckoned with.

Eli suddenly stirs beside me, and I quickly hide mini dolly beneath the duvet. Wiping the tear off my cheek, I start to sit up. He groans, rolling onto his back, and as I rest against the headboard, I side-eye him, feeling awkward. He turns his head, giving me a brief glance before facing away again.

"You came to bed?" he asks, his voice gruff.

I throw the duvet off me. "Yes," I answer before standing up. I walk around the bed, his eyes following my every move as I head toward the wardrobe, wanting to find some clean clothes to wear after a shower. As I search through it, I give him a sidelong glance and he sits up with another groan, looking hungover.

"I didn't see you at the carnival last night. Didn't you go to work?" I probe, trying to keep my tone casual.

Eli rubs his temples and sighs, "Yeah, I did, but I just finished earlier than usual." His eyes narrow slightly as he studies me. "What about you? Looks like you had a rough night."

I pull out a shirt and jeans, avoiding his gaze. "Blush and I decided to have some fun and headed to the carnival. I needed a break from everything," I say, hoping he doesn't press further.

He tosses the duvet off himself, and I avoid eye contact, my mind consumed by the events of last night with Hell and how uneasy I feel. As he walks around the bed, I hear him suddenly gasp and I whirl around.

"What the fuck is all this blood?" he exclaims, his eyes locked onto the stain—a mixture of Hell's blood and our dried cum.

Panic floods me. Why didn't I think about this last night? He bends over, lifting the sheet to inspect it more closely, and I cringe before bolting forward, slapping it away from his hand. "You know what it is, Eli," I say flatly, my cheeks burning with shame.

His eyes meet mine briefly before they fall to my bare thighs, hidden beneath the long shirt I am wearing. I cleaned myself up last night, but I can feel his scrutiny. His gaze hardens before he stands tall, but something catches my eye on his arm. A red dot.

I reach out, but he quickly pulls away and my wide eyes flash to his, then narrow in a scowl.

"But I am the one who will self-destruct, right?" I hiss, knowing exactly what it is.

He scoffs, waving me off before walking away. "Your time is coming, Noir," he shouts back, the warning lingering in the air as he exits the room. I stare blankly at the door, confusion and frustration churning inside me, but my instincts scream that I should be there for him, especially if it's my fault he's like this, maybe it's a cry for help. I just can't keep holding someone else up when I'm barely carrying myself most days, especially without my meds now. I need to start putting myself first.

With Eli out again tonight, I decide to do my own kind of investigating and as I weave in and out of trailers, I am quiet as I head towards the Hollow's trailer. The trailer looms ahead, its silhouette barely noticeable in the dark except for the haunting painted skull.

Once I have stopped, I peer from behind an empty trailer, waiting for his appearance and after some time, I finally see the front door opening. Hell steps out, closing the door behind him and lights a cigarette, the brief flare illuminating his painted face before he pulls his hood over his head.

When he is ready, he starts to walk, and I gradually back further into the shadows until he is passing me. While following him, I don't make a sound, like a ninja in the night, my breath held as I maintain a careful distance. He moves with a sense of purpose, his tall, toned figure cutting through the dim light like a phantom.

What does he do when he's not watching me? I want to know. I need to know what I am truly up against.

When we enter the woods, I slow down, but the glow of his cigarette serves as my beacon, guiding me. Once he strolls through a clearing, I stop behind a tree trunk, ducking and peeking around it. My heart skips a beat as I realize this is where we were the night I rode his knife. The bright full moon casts a glow upon him as he strides across the small field. My brows knit together in confusion as he stops dead in the center.

Leaning down, he grasps something with both hands with his cig tucked between his lips. When he pulls open two doors hidden in the ground, I am shocked.

What the fuck. A hidden entrance that leads underground?

He stands still for a moment taking one last drag of his cigarette, the ember glowing bright before he flicks it away, watching it soar through the air until it lands with a soft hiss on the damp grass.

Without hesitation, he descends into the darkness, disappearing from view and I remain frozen, my mind racing, but I am not stupid enough to follow him. I'll hold out and when he leaves, I'll go down there.

I wait for what feels like forever, sitting on the cold, dirty ground, hidden behind the trunk, but when I hear his heavy footsteps crunching over the grass, my body tenses and I remain utterly still until he has completely passed me. It's strange because he usually senses my presence no matter where I am. Maybe he has things on his mind. Probably Dark Night.

When the coast is clear, I gently stand, my muscles stiff from holding the same position for so long. I move cautiously around the tree, my eyes darting in every direction to ensure Hell is truly gone and as soon as I am satisfied that I am alone, I make my way toward the hidden door. My heart pounds in my chest as I approach and once I reach them, I gaze down for a moment, then bend over, fingers curling around the cold handles. I pull them apart, the hinges groaning softly in the night, revealing a set of steep steps leading down into total darkness. A musty, damp smell wafts up, and the air feels colder as it meets my skin. I hesitate, listening for any sign of movement below, but all I hear is the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze.

I grasp the edges of the doors and begin to descend into the abyss. The walls are rough as I steady myself, and the stairs narrow, forcing me to move slowly and cautiously. My eyes gradually adjust to the dim light, and I see a passageway that has some doors. I glance around as I carefully walk forward, my senses heightened, pushing down on every handle of every door I pass, but they're all locked until I reach one and it softly clicks open.

As I step inside, the dim light automatically comes to life, and I feel a chill run down my spine. Long, thick chains hang low, rusted, and heavy, clinking softly with the draft. Metal units line the walls, each one covered in dark stains and strange, sinister-looking tools lie on top of them.

In the center of the room stands a metal surgeon's table and it's fitted with restraints. The air is thick with the scent of iron and something else, something far more sinister. I take a step closer, my eyes darting to every corner of the room, trying to understand what the fuck Hell uses this place for.

My gaze lingers on the table, imagining Hell bringing someone here, strapping them down, and possibly hurting them. The thought makes my stomach churn, but I can't tear my eyes away. I need to understand, to know what Hell is hiding down here although it is becoming pretty clear cut. Taking a deep breath, I reach out and touch one of the chains, feeling its cold, rough texture beneath my fingers.

Knowing I can't be here long because he might return, I dash toward the units lined along the back of the room and with careful yet swift motions, I pull each one by one, every drawer revealing an array of weapons and devices until finally I come across a med drawer, and I halt. My eyes scan over the neatly labelled vials, my mind sparking with ideas until they settle on a name I recognize all too well: Etorphine.

I quickly grab a clean, unused needle from beside the drugs and draw the tiniest dose of the liquid into the syringe. Carefully, I cap the needle and hide it away in my pocket, making sure everything else remains undisturbed and is still in its place. Then, I turn around and quietly leave the room, pulling the door shut behind me with a soft click.

**

Tonight is the night, and I'm getting ready with a mix of nerves and anticipation. A constant spike of anxiety pulses within me, but it's matched by a thrill.

It feels like I've been waiting for this moment for such a long time, for the answers I desperately need.

As I slip into my outfit, I gaze at my reflection in the mirror, taking in the sight of myself transformed.

Tonight, I'm dressed entirely differently from my usual costume. I snuck into the circus's changing rooms this morning, scouting for something that would make me undetectable to Hellion. Something to throw him off when he tries to hunt me down.

Black knee-high boots fit snug around my legs, paired with white fishnet stockings, the lace trim sitting just below my small white tutu with a black and red frill. A matching corset snaps my waist, contouring my curves and I've styled my hair into a bun, with loose red curls framing my features. My makeup is my usual broken dolly look, but tonight, I have a white porcelain doll mask with black cracks around the hollow eyes and red lips to complete my disguise. Long, finger-tipless, silk, white gloves conceal the scars on my arms.

Once I'm finished with my clothing, I lift the eye contacts I stole—black and white swirls, just like Hell's. A smirk curls at my lips before I struggle to place them in each eye, but with persistence, they finally fit onto my blue pupils, transforming my gaze into something horrifying.

Ready and unrecognizable, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what's to come. This is it—the night I've been waiting for, the night everything changes.

After one more glance in the mirror, I turn around and head for the bedside cabinet. Pulling open the drawer, I push everything aside until I find the needle and I lift it out, then stuff it deep inside my boot. Grabbing my mask off the bed on the way, I head for the front door.

Just as I reach it, I hear the shower running, knowing Eli is in there and a thought crosses my mind: what will he be doing tonight? Will he be working? Will he be watching this entire thing unfold as well? I hope he doesn't. I'm not sure if he would handle it well. I press the handle down and exit the trailer, closing the door behind me.

The night air flushes against my hot skin, instantly reviving me. I glance down at my mask before raising and fixing it to my face. Then, I walk toward the bright lights of the huge circus and carnival in the distance.

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