Chapter 17

"Caine." I pleaded through whatever oxygen I could take in through terrorized panting.

No one could hear my cries, not only were the guests too busy watching the fireworks, but Caine"s hand stapled my lips. I couldn"t help but feel that it was as though, he was pinning me down against his own will. A hoarse growl vibrated from behind us. The shadow man.

"Stay still." Caine's voice was shallow, filled with melancholy.

"Help!" I cried out again. Caine's knee collided with my lower back, and I dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I gasped at the opportunity for air as I began to crawl away, coughing, and splattering. The short blades of grass scratched the scabs on my knees.

My eyes stung from the tears, causing my makeup to run. Someone stood on the train of my dress, putting a stop to my scarper. A hollow, muffled laugh broke from him, it was lifeless, and menacing.

The shadow man. I thrashed and wriggled in terror, trying to pull free from the tension, but the dress pulled tighter against my arms, and it tore. Busting the slit of my gown beyond the dip of my pelvis, and my green g-string on full show. The green g-string he brought me. The tops of two black shoes shifted to a spot right under my face. My heart pounded harder as he crouched next to me.

I gasped, the serrated edge of his knife met my chin, and it was like I was feeling Deja Vu. Again.

I crumbled like pasty, into a fit of sobs. His black cape draped over him, and pooled around his body like the other times I'd seen him. Like the Grim Reaper.

"Please! Let me go." I gargled my plea. Muffled from the snot that had trailed to my mouth.

The shadow man put pressure under my chin, I winced from the sharp friction on my skin. He shook his head, slowly. He shifted his knife away, depositing it somewhere in his jeans, but I kept my gaze. His bright green, glowing amulet dangled from the chain around his neck, as well as another necklace with a thick, black key. The large tears in his jeans at his knees conveyed hints of pale tones of skin.

I shuddered. I seemed to have had the habit of forgetting that he was real. He shifted backward, appearing amused at my glare. He seemed too calm to be a murderer. The sensation was strange, something I couldn"t identify. He was so… mysterious. His fit black-painted chest rose, and fell for him.

I was not the best at reading people, but the way he was looking down at me was not only that of revolt, it was also curiosity.

Giving me the impression that maybe, there was a reason he hadn't killed me yet. My heart rate danced as the shadow man stood. Another firework routine sounded, and sparked the sky to life. As each one expanded, they beamed off enough light to see the shadow man"s entire figure.

He shifted, standing taller, and drew in an enormous breath of air, letting me take him in more. I think. The thick horns curved out of his mask and curled above his head, like a ram"s would. I jolted from his sudden movement and frowned in disbelief. He was holding his hand out for mine. My heart stopped momentarily, before finding a rhythm again. I couldn't get a grip of him, he was all over the place, and it made my head spin.

I had seen him cry, I had seen him shred my feet to pieces, he had chased me through the deepest, darkest parts of the woods, he had stalked me, and kidnapped me. He had given me peace offerings of clothing, like I was a fucking servant from Harry Potter, or some shit. He was inevitably fucked in the head.

My mind wandered, maybe he had two brains, one that was a normal human one, and the other was disfigured, pulled right from the viscera of the devil.

That made logical sense in my head, but it was far from reality. Those sorts of things don"t exist. My eyes darted back and forth between his veiny, black hand that was out for mine, and the empty holes of his mask, his eyes covered by the layer of mesh.

A flutter in my stomach grew as I summoned whatever courage that was left in my body to take his hand, but hesitated. He twisted his head to the side, in a provoking, yet playful way. He was clearly enjoying fucking with my mind.

He looked down at his hand, and clenched it into a fist with an animalistic growl, bellowing from his nose. A clear message. Hurry up, and grab it. I complied, and as my palm collided with his I jolted from the intrusion. An electric shock, like I had clasped my fist around an electric fence. My mouth dried, and I tried to swallow.

He pulled his hand back with a muffled gasp. Stars spun around me, and white flashed across my eyes. Images, and waves of sexual tension, mixed with torturous nightmares of drowning, and thick black darkness. Death. And black smoke. His breath escalated, suddenly angered, he must have a short temper.

He ushered his hand forward again with a threatening growl, as though it was my fault for the electric twang. This time, I didn't hesitate. I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me to my feet, a little too hard. The sensation hit me again. My eyes widened as I planted my hand against his chest to break the collision.

He stilled, and for a moment I liked the feeling, his fingers at the small of my back, curling into my dress. I glanced at my hand, I considered moving it, but I didn't. If anything, I think he liked it too.

More than liked it. I shouldn't have felt what I did. I really should not have. But there was something I couldn"t put into words. A chemistry feeling, or whatever, and the butterflies in my stomach swirled.

A dim stimulating growl vibrated at the pit of his chest, rumbling through every cell in my body. I couldn't tell if he wanted to fuck me here and now, or kill me. His body"s expression was that of a vicious cycle of revolt, and arousal. I sighed, pulling myself together.

"What are you going to do to me?" I whimpered. Trying to break the eerie silence, but he didn't respond.

As per usual. For what felt like a lifetime of him holding me here, he let out a painstaking sigh. And even though his breath was cloaked by his mask, a wisp of it ran over me like needles. Sharp, intrusive, and pleasurable.

I couldn't push aside the thought that something was biting at him, from the way he looked at me through the voids of his eyes. I couldn't pinpoint the ambiance, it was like he was suddenly looking at the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that he had been climbing for centuries, but also.

It made no sense. My moral compass was knocking on my door, and the sadness of reality hit me like a tonne of bricks, right in my chest.

He was going to kill me. Without warning, his hand grasped around my neck. I threw my body into a fit of kicks, and squirmed in defence. It achieved nothing, and I felt like my limbs were about to separate from my spinal cord. I gasped, and gargled as my feet dangled above the ground, the shadow man was holding me at arm's length.

Caine didn't offer a sliver of help, why would he? They're killers. How could you forget that? I wrapped both my hands over his, trying to pry them from my neck as I fought for air.

But all it did was give into his sadistic challenge. His game. His chest exhaled with a brutal grunt, and he squeezed even tighter. My brain throbbed in my skull, and I felt the water in my eyes fall into the sockets, and the snot squeeze from my nose like a toothpaste tube.

He was no stranger to this, adjusting his grip so that only my blood channel was being cut off. No, he wasn't trying to kill me at this very moment, because if he were, his grip would be around my airway. Granted, I could hardly breathe, because his grip was so tight, but it was clear that wasn't his plan.

He wanted me to pass the fuck out. I sobbed heavily between whatever draws of air I had left. He adjusted his grip with a tilted head, and a shattered breath.

I could feel him smiling as he squeezed just his thumb, and index finger into my neck, right at my artery. My blood pumped hard against his grip. I could feel him in all his power, for what he truly was. A monster.

I didn't have to know his name to know he was a monster. I didn't have to know what he looked like under his mask to know he was a monster. I didn't have to know the reason he had watched me to know he was a monster.

I didn't have to know the reason he took me to know he was a monster. I didn't have to know why he wanted to kill me to know he was a monster.

I didn't have to know a damn fucking thing to know a monster was a monster. But I wanted to. And I think I needed to. The shadow man"s head tilted again but in the other direction, and I felt the darkness nearing. I gulped as hard as I could manage under his grip, and closed my eyes.

My body sank into weakness, but he held my weight entirely. I succumbed to his cold, dark shadow and let it envelope me.

I jolted, throwing myself awake with an almighty gulp of air. Was every time I woke up going to be like this? The sounds of a blood-curdling scream ripped through my ears and echoed through my bones. I shuddered, and goosebumps wreaked havoc over my skin. What the fuck. I blinked my eyes a few times, but they never focused. It was pitch black in here. I crooked out my neck left and right to make sense of where I was but I winced from the dull ache around my throat, mindlessly lifting my arm to rub at it, but tension stopped me. I was bound by something. My arms were hanging high above me, holding my weight and I was on my tiptoes. I tugged at the pressure of the rusty old iron cuffs that were clamped tight around my wrists, the shackles clanked against the walls that closed me in.

By the chilling concrete radiating up my spine and the stench, it was obvious where I was. I was in the fucking basement. Again.

"Ffffuck." I scoffed in a whisper, yanking at the chains. Fucking hell. If I was going to die, couldn"t the fucker just get it over with already? I was getting sick of this merry-go-round. The scream from somewhere nearby hit me again, and terror washed over me like ice-cold water.

"Shhhhh." whispers of a mousy voice echoed from within the basement, the voice of another hostage.

"Who's there?" I said quietly.