“Remember the song Mama used to play on the piano?” His words made me tense, because he was usually the one who brought up the subject of our parents, and I hated that. It was too painful and I saw no sense in it, but it wasn't as if I could deny him anything.
“Yeah.” My voice was hoarse, because I knew what he would ask next of me, and it was slowly killing me inside. Not that I ever told him about it.
“It was a great song, wasn't it? I never remember the lyrics.” Then his hand grabbed the one I was cleaning him with, and his eyes pleaded with me. “Would you sing it to me?” His eyelids were heavy. I was done cleaning his body, so I helped him lie him down on the pillow, and I covered him with the piece-of-shit blanket that was there. I took a deep breath. I knew he would fall asleep quickly, so it was a no-brainer that I would do it.
He was great with the piano, and I had a good voice. Not that it did me any good.
I cleared my throat, put my hand on his head, and caressed it slowly. Then the sound of my voice filled the black, empty, cold room.
I kept singing. Dominic smiled and grabbed my hand, while I guarded his peace and made sure he could sleep safely.
Memories.
I fucking hated mine and wished I never remembered this song, our parents, our house, or the life we had before this major fuck up. But my brother was in pain, and the only way to soothe him was to sing that song, so I did it and smiled, because both of us couldn't feel pain at the same time.
Someone had to be strong.
I had to be strong.
Sociopath
It was impossible not to hear the sound of her crying in the basement, but oddly enough, it didn't move anything inside me. I understood perfectly her feelings of hopelessness, fear, and distrust, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
She pissed me off with her remark about Dominic, as though I was the one who hurt him. She clearly cared about him, and even though she cried out my name in her moment of passion, he was the one who had her concern and loyalty. It made the beast inside me roar in anger, because I wanted to have those feelings to myself.
I went into the small room next to the main one she was in. I closed the door and stood in front of the mirror.
The man who watched me in the reflection was lethal, angry, and dangerous. Nothing about him was soft. I leaned down on the countertop, rested one of my hands there, and removed the band from my hair with another. I let my hair slide down my shoulders. I preferred to have my normal length, and she would fucking get used to it. She was here with me, Damian, not Dominic. I wasn't going to hide who I was.
Not from her.
Never from her.
Some part of me hated myself in that moment, because I had an innocent, scared girl in my dungeon. I took my victims to that place. She didn't deserve to be there, and everything in me wanted to take her to my room and hold her in my arms.
But another part of me, the sick part, felt thrilled that she was finally with me and I could do with her as I pleased. The visions of her tied to the bed while I fucked her filled me once again, but I didn't let myself get off.
I told myself the next time I came would be with her.
With a last glance at myself, I removed the shirt from my body and disappeared behind the bathroom door.
The game of making her mine was on.
Sapphire
I heard him shut the door. Only God knew what he was doing there, or had in there for that matter. He was a killer. He probably had weapons and shit like what was in the movies. My arms were hurting a little bit from being chained, but it wasn't too tight. I still had room to cover myself fully with the blanket, and I held it tight after his last comment.
Claim you as mine.
Those words sent chills down my body, and I wanted to die.
Okay, that was too dramatic. I wanted to live, but I didn't want to discover what he meant by his comment. Yet, I screamed his name with my orgasm.
It was hard to ignore the voice in my head. I was both humiliated and angry. I wanted the sociopath to go down on me. He probably knew it. He was acting as though sleeping with me was a fucking sure thing. I didn't swear much, but I figured the circumstances were good enough. How I wished to have something on that would make me feel more protected. No, I wanted to be away from here, period. Although he left the light on, I had no clear picture of the room in front of me, and frankly, it sucked. Without my glasses, I could only study nearby objects and the ceiling. The far end of the room stayed a mystery for me though.
The mattress I was on looked new; I was grateful for that. The chandelier was beautiful. It looked as though it was made out of crystal. I was mesmerized watching it. I found it difficult to look away. It looked expensive for this hole, but then, who knew what kind of kicks he had going on? Maybe he preferred to have an expensive interior in the place he liked to kill his victims. The walls were white, unstained as far as I could see. The room also had a couch and TV, and even some carpet. A chair, which was probably very uncomfortable with all those straight lines and no place to put your arms, was slightly farther away. Overall, the room wasn't as terrifying as I initially thought. Not that it made me feel better, but at least I wouldn't live in the constant nightmare before Dominic came after me. He promised he would protect me, so I had faith he would save me. Maybe it was silly, but with no hope from anyone else, he was what I was left with, right?