Chapter 26

Ifidgeted nervously and kept my eyes on the floor, feeling shamed by the intrusion of the shadow man"s signature terrorizing stare. I meddled at the chain around my wrists that were bound tightly behind my back.

The chain trailed from around my neck, along my spine, and then linked to the other chain wrapped around my ankle, the other end was grasped in the palm of the shadow man. I swallowed the fear that was very clearly taking charge of my body, dreading what was to come.

"Look at me." he hissed, his voice stern with control. I sobbed, not wanting to look at him, or speak. I was not a fucking pet. I flinched. His long painted arm grabbed my chin, and he nudged my head to meet his mask with force. He may have been able to lift my head, but I was holding my eyes to the corners away from his gaze. Fuck him.

He held me there for a moment. His breath wrenched through his chest, noticeably getting angrier by the second. Was disobeying his orders pissing him off? I smiled internally, taking comfort in the idea of vexing him. He can rot in hell for all I care. And as much as I tried, I couldn"t push away the terror enough for a hint of strength to stand against him. He left me no choice but to clamp my eyes shut, and tremor.

Snot and tears streamed down my face, finally fitting into the reality of just how fucked I was. I"d not eaten in so long, and I was tired. So fucking tired. I had been fucked, fucked again, drowned, and starved.

"Please. I can't do this anymore." I whimpered and fitted into a heavier sob. The shadow man gritted his teeth, and squeezed harder.

"Look at me, pet." He stammered. I couldn"t quite put my finger on it, but it almost sounded as though he was asking, not demanding. I finally opened my eyes, and the burn of my tears clouded my vision. I blinked, before finding his mask"s eye holes, and then just by looking at him, my stomach churned from the hopelessness.

He sighed, turning his head away for a moment. "Not like that." he scowled. I gulped, thinking of my words carefully. "I don't know what you want."

"I told you… I want to kill you, Esme." He admitted, as though his life was dependent on it. Making me feel worthless in his presence. I hesitated, before taking in a breath. "Then why didn't you?" I sniffed the snot back up my nose from my persistent crying. He paused, like I had bewildered him with my question. He toyed with the chain I was tied to, letting the weight of it run through his hands. The sound of his rings clunking along the shackles sent a haunting shiver through my core.

It triggered a distant memory of when he had been in my room, stalking me, and toying with my hairbrush. I remembered the sound of his rings clearly, twanging against the handle as he twiddled it in circles in his palm… when I thought he was just a nightmare. He finally shifted, before groaning as he unlinked it. The grip loosened and he unraveled it to free my hands, and then my ankle. They tumbled to the floor in a heap.

"I like you in chains. Bound for me." he admitted softly, before picking one of the chains back up. He looped it around my neck, locking the links together loosely so it dangled over my chest. He held the other end of the shackles in his hand.

"Why?" I whimpered. He sighed, holding onto his words. "Because… I like exotic pets, Esmeralda Pierce. And now that I've found you, I…" He paused and then murmured. "Fucking hell, don't look at me like that please." The shadow man spoke the last part of that sentence with a saddened edge. Was I looking at him a certain way? Other than the one with tears pouring from my eyes?

I squirmed. "I don't understand." I whimpered again. As if I couldn"t get any more panicked, the fucker had used my full name. How in the bloody hell did he know that? Because he was a fucking psychopath. A stalker. A kidnapper. A killer. That's why. He tapped his fingertips aggressively on the side of his mask, somewhere where his temples would be.

"Don't try to understand me, pet. I"m a twisted sociopath, and I"m on a revenge mission." he derided with disgust, very clearly toward me. I shook my head in confusion and fear, and my hands trembled. The shadow man continued. "The moment you showed up in my head was the very moment you agreed to play a game."

"What game?" I cried. He tittered, as though annoyed I didn"t understand. "You'll learn soon enough Esme."

Fear took charge, I stomped my foot and raised my hands up. "NO!" I've had enough. I am fucking done with whatever sick fucking bullshit you"ve got going on in your head, I want nothing to do with it, or your brothers." I gasped for air before shouting again, mindlessly. "I want this over with, do you hear me? So if you're going to kill me, get it the fuck over with. You spineless cunt! Or…" I winced, the back of his hand was quick to meet my cheek, jolting my head to the side.

"Or what?" He grumbled. "Or just let me go." I breathed the words, barely audible under my tears. He laughed dryly, before slapping the other cheek. I cried out, dropping to the floor on my knees. The sting was twice as hard as the last. The pink welts tingled my face. He towered above me, and then he band his hand around my neck with a tight squeeze. He gritted his teeth.

"You must be out of your damn fucking mind if you think I"m going to give up this game, pet. You are mine. Nothing but a pawn before the King." he hissed. Revolt and utter disgust riddled through his body and voice. He was making no sense. I trembled. "You're a monster." My response was a mere squeak through his tight grip. I pried at his hand for a breath but accomplished nothing, I gulped once more. Suddenly, just when I thought his hold couldn"t get any tighter he adjusted his grip, and curled his thumb and index finger, pressing slightly into my auricular nerve. I winced to the strain of the pressure and loud ringing in my ear.

"You haven't seen monster." he grumbled. I had hit a nerve, a big fucking nerve. A pawn? What in the fuck did that mean? I heaved, hearing the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my throat. Finally, he released his grip before storming off to his bedside table. I panted the air back into my lungs. Barely able to focus as he fiddled with the button on a remote.

The wall opened for him, startling me. The ropes… fuck, not again. He pulled some of the red ropes down off the hooks, and sauntered back. My heart pounded, he looked like he was engulfed in flames. Fuming.

He threaded the ropes around my limbs in such a way that each row was evenly placed, as though to not cut off my circulation entirely, but to cause an intense throbbing sensation. But if you were to be held in them for long enough, only God knew what would happen. He tethered them around my wrists, arms, and waist. He then trailed a section up my legs from my feet. He suspended me from the ceiling like he had done before, and my body soon grew numb.

The ropes were tight. Too tight. I was a defeated mess, in sobs of fear, and torment. My feet were tied firmly up against my ass, and I was hung by my wrists, and knees. My back faced the floor, and my hair dangled down with the chain, and there was a heavy ache at my shoulders. I grimaced from my arms feeling like they were pulling out of their sockets. I blinked from the sensation of blood rushing to my head, only adding to the dizzy spell I was already in from starvation and exhaustion.

Time passed by slowly, I would guess I hung here for an hour or two. I couldn"t be sure if I had slept or not, everything was numb. He stayed grounded, standing there staring at me, and admiring his artifact. I was hung like a museum ornament, a puppet. Puppet queen. The shadow man hadn"t spoken a single word, nor had I… fuck him.

The shadow man groaned. "Ahh, my pet. You look good hanging up there for me. Quiet. Weak. Defenseless." He uttered with arousal. He moved, and trailed his fingers along the crusted scars on my feet. I gasped, and tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. This man was exceptional at tying rope. Accepting defeat again, I sobbed. "You're a freak." I sputtered the words in a panic, but he stayed silent.

He wended toward me and I shuddered. He yanked at the chain around my neck, I yelped from the intrusion. He moaned, and then stepped closer, pulling the knife from his pocket. I whimpered as he hovered it at my lips, the cold jagged edge pushing against them slightly. He shushed me. "I know. Now… quiet." He tugged the chain further so that I couldn't move or breathe.

My body strained from pressure, the top half of my body wanting to go one way, and my lower half the other. He held me there for a moment, and then he pressed his knife down over my lips, slowly. I cried out, but the sound only rumbled in my throat.

The shadow man was taking precision in his work as the burn of his knife slid against my soft lips. I could feel his eyes burning against his mask at me, as though he were fuelled by hatred and revenge. Like I was held responsible for something. Finally, he let go. I could feel the sensation of blood trailing over my nose. Some trickled into my nostril, and some pooling in the corners of my eyes and entwining with my burning tears before reaching my forehead, and then dripping onto the floor. I spat out the blood from my mouth.

"You're a fucking monster." I cried.

He tilted his head and chuckled. "Just you wait until I take you down to the lake, pet. See how spineless I am then. I know that you know what happens down there, and I know that you love being fucking terrified of me. Don"t you?" His voice was somehow even lower-toned than it already was, threatening and aroused. I ignored him, the freak.

A killer. How many people had he killed? He wrapped a white cloth over my mouth. I winced as he pulled at the wounds. "Don"t you?" he repeated viciously. I muffled a cry and a small shake of my head, that was all I could manage. He secured the cloth behind my head, and then disappeared briefly before bringing back a clear, plastic sheet, and a tin bucket.

My heart pounded as he strategically laid the sheet out under me. He crept around slowly, and my mind trailed off. I didn't know what was worse, the anticipation of his torture, or him moving around so slowly. If you didn't know any better you would say that he was the Grim Reaper. The shadow man had taken a leaf from his book, because he walked like him, dressed like him, talked like him. He painted himself black, wears a cape, kills people, and wears a fucking mask. That fucking mask. I mean, was he any different?

I jolted, suddenly being pulled from my delirium. Pain engulfed me like a lightning bolt had hit me. I cried out a muffled, blood curdling scream. My skin was being torn open by his knife. He was skating it along the midst of my thigh, pressing deeper as he trailed it further along my body between the ropes. I trembled to the agonising pain, the cloth holding onto my tears and cries.

I could taste the blood in my mouth. Only realizing now that this was why he smelled of blood, all the time. This was him, and this was his game, I think. He had clearly been holding back for some reason, his true colors were coming out now. I was fucked. And I was going to end up in the bottom of that fucking lake, just like everyone else.

He kicked the bucket under me and it collected the blood that was dripping from me. I was pouring thick crimson trails from everywhere. I shuddered from the sound of droplets hitting the bottom of the bucket, and the bile surfaced my throat. Every emotion hounded my very core, and it tapped at a part of my soul I never knew existed. My chest was aching from crying, and the fucker was loving it. His erection was hard pressed against his jeans, my pain and suffering his ascension. I could sense the relief pouring from his body with ecstasy during each drag of his knife as it soared across my skin.

Like it was setting him free. The shadow man didn't stop, he pursued butchering until there were no more blank areas of my skin left. Like he was painting a canvas.

I started to fade with the blood loss, everything finally going numb. I drifted into a state of fog, fractured between reality and visions. I dazed into a distant memory of the shadow man at the piano, the melodies ricocheting in my brain. I squirmed, pulling myself back to the here and now, grasping onto the fact that I was hearing muffled whimpers, and sobs.

They weren"t mine. I struggled to focus on him, but blinked unconsciousness away. Seeing that he was crying. Why? I breathed in rapidly catching sight of a tear tricking under his mask. He stood tall, panting before finally calming his breath to the same state as my own. Slow, almost non-existent. He sniffled his tears as he held my weakened head up, looking straight into my soul through my teary emerald eyes.

I couldn't fight the darkness anymore. It finally cloaked me, and my body fell heavy against the ropes. Blurred visions of him, and a red coated, dripping knife was the last thing I saw.

Moisture tickled my senses, something trickling over my forehead. The soft sensation was the first thing to tug me into consciousness. Sounds of gentle splashes of water, and then droplets falling on my head again pulled me away from my drift a little more. I tried but couldn't move, realizing my body was heavy and weak. The more I blinked into reality, the more the pain radiated my entire body.

My eyes wouldn"t open, no matter how hard I tried. A weightlessness suspension warmed me, like I was floating. I breathed slowly to the sounds of my surroundings. I wondered if what I was hearing was condensation dripping over water, it relaxed me. My brows burrowed to the frogs croaking, and an owl hooting afar. Tree trunks and branches squeaked softly in the distance to a slight breeze.

I drew in a deep breath through my nose, inhaling the breeze that drifted over my face, and my heart pounded. I jolted upright and tore my eyes open, realizing here and now where I was. The smells of mist, pine, and rotting flesh intoxicated my brain. Bile surfaced my mouth and I gagged, the stench of rotting carcass, or in my feared thought, carcases rippled through my core. Holy fucking shit, we were in the lake.

The shadow man was cradling me in the lake, that was tucked in the middle of the forest a long way from anywhere, or anyone. His grasp was soft, and light. He had been dripping water on my head to wake me. My breath hitched and I shuddered from the thought of being in rotting human-flesh-filled-water. I blinked away the clouded vision, seeing the soulless mask looking back at me. My tears were muffled by the cloth over my mouth, I flinched as he tugged it down, the cool wisp of air burnt my teeth as I drew in a breath. I trembled, shaking my head.

"Why me?" I breathed with desperation for answers. What the fuck was happening to me? Why was I here? Why didn"t he kill me? I frowned, the memory of his tears washed over me.

"Why are you doing this?" I muttered, realizing just how much pain I was in. I could feel every welt on my skin throbbing. He didn"t answer. In fact, he was the total opposite of what he was in his room. Whatever traces of evil I had seen earlier… however long ago that was, were gone and he had dwindled back into his soft lulled state that I enjoyed. As much as I hated to admit. No monster in sight. With each passing second the pain was becoming harder to ignore. I grimaced and shivered again, eliciting a gulp from his throat.

"You wouldn't understand." he muttered, his voice was a low and mellow tone, perhaps regret? I squinted my eyes in confusion, my head thumped from his mind fuck, he was up and down like a yoyo. One minute he's tying me up and slicing through me like I was Thanksgiving dinner. The next he seems concerned about my lacerations, and very much not killing me. Unless he anticipated letting me die slowly.

It made no fucking sense, I knew for sure he didn't give the same treatment with the other hostages as he had done with me. I wouldn't be surrounded by the smell of rotting flesh if he did. So why me?

I broke contact, seeing that the blood hadn't stopped flowing from me, it was entwined with his black paint in the water around us. It was dark, but the sky was illuminated enough to make sense of what was what. I summoned all I had to speak.

"We're where you do the fucking bloodshed so just do it. Get it over and done with." I coughed before adding my desperation, "Please." I would rather be dead than experience another second in his arms. I never thought I'd beg for my death. But here I was. He composed himself and drew in a sharp breath, it seemed as though he had so many emotions flowing from within him, it was exhausting just trying to understand one of them.

I sensed maybe grief, trauma of some kind, there was darkness, revenge, and lust? Definitely pain, and for sure love, and loss… betrayal? But what the fuck did I have to do with it? Because killers always had motives, people don"t just go around killing people for fun, there was always a back story. I sighed, he was no different to the way he had been at the piano, or after carving my body to pieces.

He stilled. "I… am going to kill you, pet. But…" He paused with a loud gulp, and his breath quickened. Uncertainty of his next move sent a shiver down my spine. His breath panted under his mask. "Fuck." he breathed in desperation. Suddenly, he pulled his mask up to his nose, and then without warning his lips drove into mine.

I juddered from the sting, but the static wave of electricity split through me harder than it did the first time we touched, and any other time it had happened after. His kiss drove every hint of pain away, but I squirmed away his kiss and he broke away. He carried me to the edge of the lake, the cool air stinging my skin.

I shuddered to the scent of my blood as it filled my nose. "But what?" I pushed, spitting out the taste of his saliva. If he wasn't going to kill me what the fuck was he going to do? Fuck a near dead body? He pulled his mask back to its original state, and laid me down on the ground against the water's edge, and then stood above me. His height and body expression made me feel small and worthless, yet he had some kind of sadness. He tilted his head sideways and sighed.

I shuffled backward a foot or two, whimpering from the aches. Then suddenly he launched forward, grabbing my ankle. His hand pressed against one of the cuts, eliciting a blood curdling scream from my chest, and then he pulled me back to the spot I was before.

I stuttered something I couldn"t make sense of, and he stood back to take a long look at my weakened, defenceless body. I was covered in blood, leaves, dirt, bruises and welts. He sighed softly, as if to gather every ounce in his body to speak.

"But. It seems as though… I have somehow discovered a taste, for you." His voice was melodramatic, and confused. He lowered himself between my legs, parting them with his now white hands. He hovered there, contemplating his next move, which only rattled me more. I couldn't tell if he was going to hurt me again, leave me here to die or fuck me seven ways to Sunday.

"And I want… need…" His hand met the top of my pussy and I gasped, he groaned before continuing. "This." He hissed and twirled his fingers at my entrance before pulling away. I gasped, biting down my own want for him, even though the thought made me sick. I was a mangled mess, and yet I still had that fucking cum fairy tapping away in my stupid head.

Gah! His unmuffled voice was electric to hear, how could I still want this man? How could I still crave this man, after what he had done? I was too scared to speak, because whatever I was thinking of saying, and what would actually come out of my mouth, would be two very different things. The words fuck off came to mind, but I knew I would only fuck that up... I knew for sure that I would splutter fuck me instead.

Haunt me… Hate me… Fuck me…

I scoffed at myself mentally, I was a broken fucking coo-coo clock. I studied him, only feeling the sense of being bewildered. I could feel his hunger deepening as he hovered between my legs. His breath fastened, anger and being withheld from something at his dispersal once more. I flinched as he stood up with great speed.

"Fuuuuuck!" He shouted loudly in frustration with his hands behind his head, much like you would when you lost all your money on a bet in a horse race. It echoed through the forest, ricocheting off every tree, and shadow that haunted this place. I gulped. A sense of rage expelled from his body, and then as if he forgot I was even here he stormed off into the water. I watched with my brows furrowed, what the fuck?

He walked a long way out, until he was belly deep, maybe a little further. He was looking up at the waxing moon that had lifted higher than earlier, shining between the trees and giving a little more light to the forest. Fog began to rise from the ground, thickening slowly.

My breath paused as he tugged the hood of his cape backward, and then pulled his mask off. His hand knotted his beautiful wavy hair and I gulped in anticipation, unable to pull my eyes away. I was looking at him like I had never seen him before. I had every chance of making a run for it. Had he assumed I wouldn"t try?

I remembered the last time I was here, his voice had echoed through the forest, haunting me. This is my playground. My heart pounded, seeing a thick black smoke fall over the lake. Adrenaline sparked me, and I got to my feet pushing through the pain to make a run for it. Only realizing sooner that instead of running away from him, I was somehow walking towards him.

This was his forest. This was his haven. The darkness was his ally, he seemed to find peace here, and in the water. What the fuck was this man doing to me? Even after all was said and done, I still found myself stuck in his dark lure. I couldn't fight the urge. I just... needed him. I shuddered with each step I took into the water, breathing through the pain. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, only I couldn't. How could I? I was walking directly to a serial killer. I came to a stop behind him, waiting for him to turn around.

He would know for sure I was here because I was breathing so heavily. I prayed mentally, please be ugly… please be ugly, maybe that would make it easier to hate him. But he didn't turn, he just stared at the stars. The black fog finally closed in, sending a chill down my spine. An identical sensation to the one he had on me in my nightmares. I think at this point I was only one more unbalanced beat of my heart before I would have a stroke. I was only holding on by a thread, his thread. Like a puppet.

My puppet queen… Fuck. He shifted, pulling his mask back on and drawing his hood over his head. I held my breath as he turned fully to face me.

"You just can't stay away from me can you, pet?" he groaned. By the time he had finished the sentence he was hard-pressed against me, and igniting the spark once more. I inhaled vigorously, summoning all that I had to answer him truthfully. "No." I croaked.

The shadow man sniggered as if taking great enjoyment from my denial. "And I thought I was the shadow." He muttered breathlessly, and then cloaked his arms around me, tucking under my ass. He scooped me up into his embrace and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him, and then drew my arms behind his neck.

My brain was screaming at me, telling me no, but it was as though he controlled my mind. Not a soul on this earth could miss the electric wave of sexual, lustful suspense that split through us through the fog, and I suspect that he couldn"t explain why either.

He for some fucked up reason seemed to have a mission to kill me, and yet here I was. Still breathing, tangled in his embrace. Everything he did, and every way he touched me sent shivers down my spine, and tightened my core with excitement. He pulled up his mask to his nose and our lips met again. Now I didn"t have an ounce of regret that I was kissing a stone cold killer.

I could feel every one of his molecules entwining with mine, like two worlds were colliding. I didn't even know his name, or what he looked like… well, not entirely anyway. I pulled back to peer at him, losing myself in what I could see of his face, and then mindlessly planted my hand at his chin. He winced and I waited before brushing my thumb over his lip.

I was touching his face. His skin was smooth, freshly shaved. His body tensed and then he growled, I jolted my hand back but he was quick to adjust himself and grab my arm. I frowned, he was pulling my hand back to his face.

"Touch me again." he whimpered weakly, like a wounded baby bird. I did, planting both hands on his cheeks. He moaned, the feeling that it was his ecstasy. My touch was dissolving his inner demons, his shadows. "Why?" he breathed. I wondered how many times he had asked himself that.

"Why what?" I muttered nervously. He drew his hand over mine and I melted, all traces of pain were gone. "Why can't I kill you?" he asked with such desperation, as though I held the answer. "Why do you want…" I went to speak again but he drove his lips against mine once more.

Why do you want to kill me?Suddenly, his arm moved down between us, prying at his jeans, and released his cock. Without hesitation I swayed my hips, letting him find my entrance, and without any mercy or delay he submerged into me.

Ecstasy hit me far away from the here and now and I plummeted into an orgasm. Every crack of lighting struck me as I collapsed for this man, and I did so without a slither of regret or guilt.