20. Onslaught

"Ventured far, haven't you, Little Soul?" Echo taunts with a mocking tone. "This is new territory for you."

My body shakes uncontrollably as dried tears cling to my cheeks, dread consuming me. From the shadows, Echo steps out, his eyes still void of any whites, hauntingly black.

"I… I couldn't find you," I manage to whisper. "You left me in that forest. We have a… a deal to make."

Speaking feels impossible with two demons staring at me, their wide grins and malicious intent palpable, like a toxic perfume.

Instead of responding, Echo wraps his arm around the sinister Claire's waist, pulling her close. She giggles, her laugh eerily similar to mine. To my horror, she turns and runs her long tongue over his cheek.

His eyes flutter closed, and a satisfied sigh escapes his lips. He doesn't look like the demon who has ravaged me with his shadows. There's none of that violence when she licks him. He looks like he enjoys it more than he ever did with me, like he's letting her take the lead.

No, that's not it. He'd never give up control like this. He's just doing this to taunt me, to show me how much more he prefers her over me.

"Is that right?" he drawls. Before I can react, shadows snake around my ankles, wrists, and waist, pulling me taut against the cold wooden wall. He's tying me up. Again. "And what would you like to offer me that I don't already have?"

He turns to the demonic Claire, her eyes gleaming with a twisted delight, a grin spreading across her face. His hands move over her body with a familiarity that makes my stomach churn. She responds eagerly, pressing herself tightly against him.

"No! Stop!" I scream, the words bursting out before I can even think.

Jealousy takes root deep in my belly, winding its way through me, tightening with every second. My eyes are glued to them, unable to look away. More than that, I need them to stop touching each other. I can't handle it.

He can't be serious… He can't like her. He can't want her. He just can't.

But the truth hits me hard. He can, and he does.

"You came all this way to find me," Echo says, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my blood run cold. "So, how about I show you something you'll never forget?"

Bad Claire's unnaturally long tongue traces a line up his neck, savoring his taste. She licks her lips, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. Her hips grind shamelessly against his leg, animalistic groans escaping her mouth. When he wraps his hand around her hair and pulls hard, she cries out. His eyes flutter closed, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips

"So fucking wild," he groans.

He used to tell me I was perfect, gazing into my eyes as he made love to me under the stars. His fingers would weave through my hair, just like they do with hers now. But I never saw that same wonder in his eyes. I never saw the truth. I was always the opposite of what he truly wanted.

His cock strains against the tight, slick black leather of his pants, the bulge unmistakable and eager. I can see it twitch, practically begging for attention. I'm not the only one who notices. The other Claire slides her clawed hand over it, rubbing through the leather and letting out a low groan of pleasure.

I can only imagine it's hot and swollen under her hand. It must make her salivate, satisfying something deep inside her. I know, because it did for me when it was me who touched him.

Jealousy grows thicker inside me. It spreads its filthy roots and stabs my organs one by one. It doesn't help that Echo's shadow is curling over my thigh. I don't care about how it's starting to caress me slowly, messing with me more and more. It's aiming for my pussy again. But all I can focus on is how the other Claire is writhing against the demon. My demon.

Echo chuckles darkly, his laughter airy and followed by a sharp gasp. My words die in my throat at the sight of his pleasure. It's clear this performance is all for me—his hot breath forming mist in the cold air, the raw desire in his eyes.

He tilts his head, watching me closely as bad Claire drops to her knees, placing her hands on his pants and looking up for permission to slide them down.

"See how eager she is?" he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress that makes my skin crawl. "She knows what she wants and isn't afraid to take it. No running away, no indecision. She owns it. But you, Clarity? You haven't even begun to think about what you want."

I pretend not to understand, but the truth is, I do. I just don't want to face it. Overstimulated, scared, and jealous, I fight the urge to slap myself, to pinch my cheeks, anything to shock me back to calmness.

But I can't. I'm tied up and powerless. For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want. I want Echo to stop touching her.

Bad Claire's hands move deftly, unbuttoning his pants and slowly easing down the zipper. Her eyes remain locked on his. His lips part as his massive cock springs free. Without hesitation, she leans in, her tongue playfully teasing the tip, coaxing a deep, primal groan from his throat.

It's the same kind of groan he made when he drank my blood.

Yet, Echo doesn't look at her. His eyes are locked on mine, burning into my very soul. The other Claire takes him deeper, her lips wrapping around him with a possessiveness that makes my stomach churn.

"Watch, Little Soul," he commands me, his voice low and dark. "Watch us."

Her head bobs rhythmically, her movements turning fluid. She moans around him, the sound rippling through the air, catching my breath. His hand tangles in her hair, guiding her, controlling her, taking what he wants. But his eyes are locked on mine. He watches me intently, moaning as he sees my face instead of hers. It should be the same thing, really, but it's not. Somehow, that makes all the difference.

He pushes into her just as he did me in the woods. I can see the transition in him, from gentle and giving to merciless and taking. He wraps his hand around her hair, plunging so deep that she chokes. But instead of crying, the other Claire makes nasty little sounds of approval between ragged breaths.

She cups his balls with one hand and beckons him to take her. Her other hand goes to her clit, slapping her own pussy mercilessly. She's brutal with herself. "Wild," he said. He was right. This creature is the very essence of the word. She's pure carnality.

Echo's shadow slithers higher against my legs, teasing the edges of my thighs, brushing against my clit. It's wrong. It's fucked up. It also makes me shudder among my welling tears.

"Look at this beauty," Echo commands. "She doesn't hold back." His eyes narrow to tiny slits. "You want a deal with me, Clarity? Deals go both ways. Something for something. Tit for tat."

My heart races, pounding against my ribcage violently. What does he want from me?

My eyes follow the movement of the demonic Claire. Her movements are so uncontrolled. Completely unhinged. And just when the first stray tear runs along my cheek, Echo suddenly becomes tender, gently patting her hair

"Enough," he says, pulling her away a moment later, his cock glistening and throbbing. He smiles as she pouts, whimpers of protest coming from her salivated mouth.

"Mm, not yet," she pleads. "I want more. Please."

Her desperate whimpers and begging for more only make me feel more dread, but a part of me envies her ability to let go. It must be so freeing to feel that way. Does she even worry? Does she even know what anxiety is?

"What is it that you want?" Echo asks, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes it feel like he's speaking to me. But before I can respond, bad Claire answers instead.

"I want you in my ass, baby," she purrs, her voice a blend of demonic hiss and sultry allure. My head spins. I watch as she turns on the floor, dropping to her elbows and sticking her ass in the air without a care in the world. She smiles, sharp teeth grazing her moving tongue that rolls around her lips.

For the first time, Echo's gaze breaks away from mine, his eyes now gleaming with dark amusement as they land on the other Claire. He steps forward, positioning himself behind her. His hand trails down her back in a possessive caress, making her hips wiggle in anticipation, utterly shameless.

My eyes narrow at the way her spine curves. She's like a damn snake, looking like there are no bones in her body, only fluidity and seamless flow.

Even if I wanted to, I'd never be like her.

I don't have such sharp teeth, claws for fingers, or a perky and round ass. We might share our names and faces, but we're completely different people. We must be.

I watch with my heart pounding as Echo tears off her pure white pants. The fabric shreds like paper, and then his cock, slick with her saliva, presses against her entrance. She moans in anticipation, her body arching toward him.

"Yes, Echo," she breathes out in short, desperate gasps. "Enter me. Enter me now!"

He licks his lips and glances at me.

"Didn't I tell you, little one, that we need lube for ass play?" he asks, his tone mocking. Her needy whimpers fill the air as she rubs herself against him regardless. "We don't have any here."

"Blood," she whimpers. "Take my blood."

And yet, hearing her say it so shamelessly awakens something deep inside me—a dark craving for freedom from reason and restraint. As Echo runs a single claw down her spine, I feel a heat spreading through me. Blood starts dripping down her ass crack and onto his cock. He smears his hand in it, playing with the wound, coaxing even more to flow. Then, he spreads it over his cock, coating it evenly.

I can't stop watching. I can't look away.

With one fluid motion, he thrusts into her.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chants, her voice breathy. "More, Echo, more!"

It could be me. He could be fucking me like this, with my blood for lube, with my cries echoing in this creepy haunted house. Together, we could become the darkness. I would never fear it again.

But I'm just tied up here, watching him do it all with her.

The shadows around me tighten, their touch almost suffocating. I feel their cold tendrils brushing against my skin, teasing my thighs, brushing against my clit. They don't do much. Definitely not enough for me to feel any real pleasure at all. It's all a play. A game to make me need more.

I watch as Echo goes at it with the other Claire, getting more intense with each thrust, making her cry out louder. The sounds of wetness, slickness, slapping, and panting breaths resonate all around me, all of them distorted, all of them coming from everywhere at once.

His movements grow more savage, his eyes locked onto mine again, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He knows the effect this is having on me. He revels in my torment, in the twisted blend of fear and arousal that courses through me.

"Does it hurt, Little Soul?" he taunts, his voice a low, guttural growl. "Does it hurt to watch the one you love with someone else? To see the pleasure I get from something you'll never be?"

The other Claire's moans grow louder, her body arching against him, her nails raking over the splintered wood on the floor. She makes that awful scratching sound that reverberates in my gut. The floor creaks. The wind seeps through the cracks, swaying the old walls.

The sight is both horrific and mesmerizing. I just… Fuck! Why do I want to be in her place so badly, my blood on his hands, my body writhing under his touch?

"Please," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Please, Echo."

He laughs, a dark, mocking sound that echoes through me.

"Begging already, Little Soul? How delightful." He thrusts harder into her, her cries of pleasure turning into screams, her body convulsing with the force of his movements. "But you're just making me want to tease you even more. How about I share some stuff you don't know yet?"

My mouth pops open, my eyebrows draw together. He asked something similar last time. About me finding out the truth. I didn't want to hear it then, but now…

"Okay," I mutter, sounding airy from watching them together.

I don't know which torture is worse—him pushing my body to the brink of explosion, pain and pleasure alike, or watching him do that to my doppelganger. I can't take it anymore. He might as well do anything he likes with me. He can tell me things. He can do things to me. I don't care. I just want to be more important than the other Claire. I want to be his.

"Whenever we met in the dreamscape," he says between breaths, "in reality, I was sitting on your chest in your sleep. I fed on your delicious energy, looking into your open, drying eyes. I was your sleep paralysis."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. He was… in the real world? That shadow I kept seeing, that feeling that he was there physically with me, it was him.

"When you had your little sleepover with Camilla, I kept you totally still the whole night," he goes on. "I was sitting on your chest then, too. But she's not as messed up as you are. She couldn't even see me. At least, not until she found out I existed and decided to believe in me. Isn't that ironic?"

Realizing he's been in my room, so close while I was vulnerable and unaware, gives me chills—part fear, part twisted excitement. I should be freaked out, but the thought of him being that close, touching me, feeding on me, just fuels this dark longing inside me. Even with Camilla next to me...

Maybe it's because I'm so damn turned on when he tells me, but it doesn't throw me off as much as it should.

"Your energy, your essence—it has been feeding my power all along," he purrs, his voice a seductive growl. "It was so easy to slip into your mind, to make you want me. You were practically handing yourself over, Little Soul. It's like you were begging me to take control. I barely had to do a thing."

A predatory smile spreads across his face, revealing a gleam of malevolent delight.

"Your immune system, your instincts—they tried to warn you, to fend me off. They screamed at you that danger was near, that you shouldn't let your guard down," he laughs, a sound so dark and chilling it seems to seep into my bones. "And yet, you let me in even deeper to silence them."

With a final, savage thrust, he withdraws from bad Claire, leaving her panting and spent on the floor. His attention turns to me, each step he takes causing the shadows around him to thicken, becoming the only thing I can see. As he comes closer, his fingers plunge into me with a swift, almost brutal motion, sending a shockwave of pleasure and pain through my body. I cry out, my hips instinctively bucking against his hand, seeking more of the twisted ecstasy he offers.

"I wanted to kill you so many times," he hisses, his voice a venomous whisper in my ear, "to crush your chest, paralyze your body fully, and toy with your mind until I ate you. But it would be such a waste. The fun would end too soon. Playing with you is so sweet… sweeter than with the rest."

Each word, each merciless thrust of his fingers drives me deeper into a spiraling abyss of terror and arousal. I break through the haze just long enough to gasp out a question, my voice trembling.

"S-sweeter than the rest? Why?"

Echo's fingers curl inside me, sending another jolt of pleasure and pain through my body. He pauses, his eyes narrowing with dark, cruel satisfaction.

"Who knows?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with venomous delight even though I detect a hint of hesitancy. "Maybe you're more broken than them."

I gasp, struggling to process his words through the overwhelming sensations.

"I'm not broken," I manage to choke out, my voice shaking.

"You, Little Soul, are the most miserable human I have seen in ages," he hisses, his eyes blazing with desire. "No matter how many times I fed on you, you only tasted sweeter the next time. You were always so happy to see me in your dreams and then so scared to feel me in your world. Such a rollercoaster of emotions. Each one better than the other."

The pieces of the puzzle fall into place in my mind, each one clicking with a sickening clarity that I wish I could deny. My breaths come in ragged gasps, my chest heaving as I stare at him, my mouth open in shock and horror. Through it all, his fingers continue their relentless rhythm inside me, driving me further into oblivion.

How can I make a deal with Echo if he has everything he wants? He told me about it in the first place just to toy with me. Just to give me hope.

"You don't ever want to stop," I choke out. "You want this to last forever."

A dark, twisted smile widens across his face.

"Yes, Little Soul. Forever."

He says the word with pleasure, showing me just how much he wants it—my misery.

Tears blur my vision as the full horror of his words sinks in. I haven't woken up from here. I stayed even though I shouldn't have.

"You are already dead, my naive little thing," he continues, his voice a dark, mocking caress. "I took your soul the moment you gave it freely. Now there's no escape for you anymore."

His fingers keep moving, driving me to the brink of sanity. The pleasure and pain blend into a maddening whirl, and I am helpless against the onslaught. Powerless. Always powerless.

"And how good it turned out to be," he purrs. "Such a good-tasting little cunt all for me for all eternity. Mine to fuck, mine to scare, mine to chase and cut and bite."

With a final, brutal motion, he plunges deeper into me, the force of it sending a wave of pleasure and pain crashing over me. The shadows tighten around us, their cold touch amplifying every sensation, driving me closer to the edge.

I orgasm angry, confused, torn. Echo didn't just fuck my pussy with his fingers, he fucked my mind with his words, too.

I, Claire McClain, am a soul owned by a demon.

In other words, I'm already dead.