Page 50 of Depravity

Only, Conrad doesn’t leave me there. No, he’s too angry. Too furious. He drags me out by my hair. He dumps me on that same bloodied rug and as he starts to land more blows, I wonder if that’s what the rug is for. To soak up my blood. To ensure his precious hardwood floors don’t get damaged.

His boot comes down, slamming into my ribs. I scream out, but it makes no difference.

Would he even notice if he killed me? Would he stop? I wonder if he would keep going, keep crushing my bones until I was nothing but dust.

My eyes swell shut, my mouth is filled with the metallic taste of my own blood. It’s streaming down my face, it’s covering me.

In my fear, in my wretched state my bladder gives way, warm urine streaming down my leg and I’m lying there, curled up into it when Conrad walks away and all but leaves me to die.

She laughed. She fucking laughed.

Even now, even hours later, I can’t contain my rage.

I’ve a good mind to go back and hurt her more. But that won’t help, will it?

No, apparently my fists seem to have little impact.

I storm through the hallways of Oblivion, feeling like this is already getting out of control. Who even is she? She was meant to be fucking meek.

That woman back at my house wasn’t meek.

My nails dig into my palms. My fury feels insurmountable.

What would Magnus do?

I hate that thought. And more than that, I hate the knowledge that my brother would probably have broken her bynow. He’d have had her so twisted up she wouldn’t be able to think without him putting the very words in her head.

But I’m just as good as him.

Just as fucking good.

I snarl, slamming my fists into a slave that just happens to be walking past. I don’t know where the girl is headed but as her body crumples, I tilt my head and slam my boot into her ribs.

Why won’t she just give in? Why is she making this so damn hard?

All I wanted to do was love her, spoil her, treat her better than she’s been treated up until now. Why is she rejecting me? Why would she not want that?

The slave cries out, her hands grasping my leg, but it’s not enough to stop me. I bring my leg up, this time slamming it down on her face. In my mind it’s not this pitiful creature, in my mind it’s her, my wife. And I’m teaching her a lesson, one she’ll never forget. One she’ll never move on from.

My boot crushes her nose, and blood sprays out. Her screams turn more and more high-pitched, but it doesn’t stop me. Nothing can stop me.

“Why won’t you love me?” I snarl out. Doing it again, hurting this useless excuse for a human. “Why am I not good enough for you?”

My boot comes down. I crunch the heel right into her mouth, grinding it against the very bone and this time it’s her jaw that gives way. Those screams seem to falter. That fight seems to subside, as if she doesn’t have the will power anymore.

I lean down, yanking her up by her throat. Her neck hangs at an angle so her blood pours down, covering her chest, covering her nipples. There’s a broken whimper coming from her lips. It tells me she’s still alive, still breathing.

Well, that can be remedied just as easily.

I toss her back onto the concrete, and then I’m slamming my fists into her. Crushing her skull.

“You will learn,” I seethe. “You will fucking learn.”

By the time I’m done, her face is pulverised. She’s unrecognisable. Not that she was anything of note before. Two guards appear behind me, and I jerk my head, ordering them to clear up this god damn mess.

And as I walk away, I can feel it. Her blood under my nails, in-between my fingers.

“Again,” Dustin says, looking just as bored as I feel.

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