Chapter 2

ChapterTwo

Ophelia

Cradle to the Grave - Five Finger Death Punch

Ifelt my body as it trembled like I was running from a tidal wave that rose like the towers of Hell above me, ready to wipe me out with one brutal crash, “What. The. Fuck.” I uttered with numb lips, unsure as to what the fuck just happened or why I stood slack in this man’s unrelenting hold. It was brutal, domineering, and assertive and that alone had something wild stir in my core.

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t answer my question now does it?” He sneered as his grip tightened to the point of pain and a hiss of anguish escaped me. “How. The. Fuck. Am I alive and here, is the better question, don’t you think?” He gritted out through clenched teeth and the cold and detached tone of his voice had my sick pussy fluttering at the sound.

“You really are a demon? It… It worked? Unholy Satan it worked!” I couldn’t contain the odd excitement in my exclamation as I blew out a hard breath, right into his face and the force of it had him flickering his lashes in annoyance.

“Woman,” he groused as he shook me. “Focus. I am not a damn demon. I’m a man. A man made of sinful, beautiful, depraved nightmares that will take your sugar cane fantasies and destroy them as I watch the life leave your yellow-tinged eyes. But I died. I can still feel it, coursing through me. Those last moments brought nothing but ice. A chill I couldn’t seem to starve away,” he trailed off, those last words came out like he was a million miles away, lost to the dark and harrowing clouds that seemed to be falling from the sky onto us like a shroud. “I can still feel it… So… Damn… Cold.” He shuddered, eyes snapped to mine with intense focus and my soul jumped ship and ran. “I guess it’s now your job to keep me warm, Soul Raiser.” He smirked as he darted forward and gave me no option but to accept his lips pressed firmly against mine. My mind wanted to protest, but my traitorous body quivered with desire at his dominance. My lips cooled against his as I felt the coldness he referred to and understood exactly what he meant. That coldness could destroy me if I let it.

It didn’t push me away though. I seemed to crave more of it instead.

It’s clear I’d lost my fucking mind. Maybe some serial killer bled from the shadows and knocked my ass out with chloroform. An alive serial killer. If this is nothing but a hallucination though, would it be so deadly of me to play with this dark fantasy of mine?

The one we don’t talk about.

The feeling of ice as it seeped into me was awakening, fulfilling, and somehow, despite my body temperature dropping, I’d never felt hotter. Like lava ran through my veins in boiling rivers of bubbled crimson. He worked his tongue into my mouth with a relentless passion, that had me mewling and placing my leg up to curve around his hip. He stared down at me with dark and unfeeling eyes, and mine snapped open in a warning. It was a mistake to look into those pools of death and violence, in that moment, he had stolen my soul and left me with the same hollowness that consumed him.

There was such a stark and dark confusion there I couldn’t even begin to describe how fucking terrifying that look was, in the dead of night, hardly concealed at all by the shadows as the pupils widened, blown like a manic reacting to the first rays of light after being locked and bound in a dark and dingy dungeon for years.

With a growl and one hand, he lifted me. Hands cradled the rounded globes of my ass as he spun and backed us into the veil of the Willow Tree, the catkins brushed against my cheek as he placed my back straight up against the trunk. I purred, slender fingers weaving through the dark strands of his hair. I was lost in the throes of an unnatural passion that darkened my soul beyond the bleak abyss that I knew I kept hidden deep down inside of me.

He could use those dark secrets of mine against me.

I was unsure if I would fear or thrive on that little fact.

All that was left was a deep yearning hunger. I felt like I was on fire, my body was coming alive under his intensity. Then I noticed my arms curled around the back of his head. My skin was blue, the life rushing to the surface and being absorbed by his touch. I tried to pull away, to put distance between us but like a tongue to a winter pole, I was frozen.

As I redoubled my efforts, I managed to break free, “No! Enough!” I commanded as I writhed like a squirming cat trying to break free of an unwanted cuddle. My back scraped against the rough bark as the chipped wood splintered into my skin through the fabric of my shirt. He tried to move again, but it looked as if something was holding him back. Those chiseled features turned dark, darker than the evil air that swirled around us tempting us into sin. I managed to break free as I ran from him. He spun in a circle but made no move to follow me. It wasn’t until I rounded a tree and flattened my back against it, hiding, that he popped up through the mist that had risen higher from the ground to conceal our shoulders and gave me a damn heart attack.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, and I yelped and took off again, running in the other direction wondering what the fuck kind of Halloween fuckery is this shit.

“Why are you running from me?” He whispers over my shoulder, into my ear as I fell to the ground, tripping over a headstone. My heart thrashed against my ribs and I swear one of them cracked from the assault.

“Why are you following me?” I cried as I stumbled ungracefully back to legs that trembled. It was obvious, wasn’t it? You run from the dead guys that chase you in graveyards, “Stop!” Was added in a shout that burst from me in vain. I fled the Skeleton man that felt the need to stalk me right now and hoped this was some kind of shadow-induced mind fuck.

I had summoned, the dead-ass serial killer that was now stalking me sounded more like it, my fucked-up brain parroted back to me.

As I glanced over my shoulder to see how much space had grown between us, I fall short when I don’t see him anymore.

Like a lightbulb moment, it took a dark turn when I was cracked on the head with it.

Oh my god, this is the best possible outcome of my research that I ever could have asked for. Too bad, I had to have a psychotic break to get the juice though.

How those diagnosed with a vault of insanity and have the opportunity to lose it altogether and experience this kind of shit and don’t use it to become authors is beyond me.

Because I’ve fucking cracked.

As I turned back, my nose bumped against his and I fell on my ass again.

“Fuck, you have solid skin,” I grunted, the bridge above my nose throbbing as he towers a good few feet over me. “You’re corporeal?”

“Seems that way, love. It also seems like I’m attached to you. I’ve always wanted a pet, so this should be fun,” he smirked as he leaned over to lift me from the ground with ease. “My naughty little, Soul Raiser. I’m going to have fun breaking you. I can taste it in the air, just how fucking sweet you’ll be covered in blood for me.”