Page 31 of Possess Us
The tip of the knife pierces the skin of my heel, and slowly, he drags it upwards, splitting my flesh right along the scar.
I try not to scream. I try not to cry, determined to show my defiance and keep my strength. But my body betrays me as pain rips me apart.
He finishes one, and quickly moves on to the next, slowly cutting the soles of my feet. The heat of my blood mixes with the heat of the pain, blending it all into one unbearable mess of agony.
Nate tilts his head back and releases a heavy moan, his entire body slumping in pleasure.
I can’t stop the pain-filled, yet angry, sob that forces its way up my throat. I catch it in my mouth and hold it there so all they hear is a pitiful whine. Lust watches on, along with a crowd ofwealthy pricks who have paid thousands to be here and will pay thousands more to get a plaything of their own.
I’m a fucking preshow.
As he cuts me on my other foot, the scream I had held inside bursts free, bouncing off the dirty walls over and over again. As it does, the crowd erupts in applause and cheers. Cruelty, pain and joy become a melody that rebounds off every piece of stone, every piece of steel, and lands straight back on me.
The dark power inside churns as my pain claims me, as old wounds are torn wide open. The pain of the blade. The pain of remembering all the things done to me in this place.
Two very different types of pain swirl into an all-consuming storm of agony. And they make the demon inside claw at my insides, desperate to reach the pain. To smell it. To taste it.
I feel his need as though it were my own, and as I do, the thrill of the agony has become tainted with something else.
Need. Power. Strength.
The tip of his knife trails up my leg and torso until he stops by my head. His eyes are wide with excitement as he looks down at me.
‘Try to run,’ he whispers. ‘Or I will make it much worse.’
He undoes the buckles on the leather restraints, and he watches as I force myself to sit. I throw my legs over the side of the metal table, my fingers gripping the cold steel as I consider doing precisely what he wants me to do. What they all want me to do.
To try to run. To slam my gushing feet onto the hard floor and fall. To wail and drag myself on the filthy floor as they watch and laugh.
I did it before. All the girls do.
Blood sport. That’s all this is. And I refuse to give them any more satisfaction than my pain already has.
I will not run from this. From them. From my revenge.
I have a promise made. A vow with the demons I have been bound to. And I will see this through no matter what.
Lust doesn’t want me dead. He wants Nate possessed.
Nate loves pain.
I know what demon he serves now.
Let’s set him free and revel in his wrath.
Nate waits, his eyes focused on my feet and the building puddle of blood beneath them.
He holds his breath, expecting me to do what I am supposed to do. Run. Cry. Plead.
Never again.
I feel my demon even more now. The monster inside.
He wants out.
And now I know what he is, what he needs; I know each sting of radiating pain I have felt has made him stronger.
Slowly, I slide to the edge of the table, my feet hovering an inch from the ground. The room falls still as everyone takes a collective breath, and Nate lifts his gaze.
