Hell is Lost | Book I

Chapter 19

Several hours had been passed since I went to bed and closed my eyes to forget that feeling of shame, and I didn't know when I fell asleep, but I finally woke up after hearing some noise.

"Who is there?" I asked, as it was difficult to see, because of the pitch black darkness, and the only source of some light in the room was the pale moon, that was peeping softly through the window.

But I had left the lamp on ..

I got off the bed, my long gown trailing behind me as I stealthily walked towards the door, but stopped immediately upon noticing a figure. "Who is it? Agnes, is that you?" I asked again, but nobody answered.

Suddenly the figure started coming towards me, making me take a step back. As the figure slowly emerged from the shadows, and finally revealed itself in the moonlight, I realised it was Damian. His face partially in the shadows, as if he was the darkness himself.

But how did he open the door, it was locked from inside...

Nothing made sense, and I just froze and stared at him blankly with fear. Before I could think of anything, he lunged at me and grabbed me by my arm, and with no difficulty, shoved me into the wall. "What are you doing?" I screamed. "Shut up!" He yelled and pinned my arms above my head so forcefully that my knuckles literally cracked. "Let me go!" I cried.

"Shut the fuck up!" he said loudly and pressed me against the hard surface.

He was too close, and I could hear his erratic heartbeat. His breath reeked of alcohol, and all the substances that he had abused in the party. As I looked up at him, I noticed his eyes--they looked hazy, with traces of red, showing signs that he's had too much to drink, than he should've. The usual menace and darkness were missing.

He was drunk, too drunk--but a different kind of drunk, where he had full control over his body, and had the strength to beat up a man--unlike other drunk people who just trip and fall, and can hardly manage to stand up.

He was just high in the head.

I was trying to move and break free when he asked,"Why are you acting so wild today?"

His voice was shockingly soft and flirty, and it appalled me. What is he doing?

"Huh?"

He loosened his grip around my wrists, kept on moving his hands up till our fingers were tightly interlaced and looked deep into my eyes, "You're like a cat tonight."

As he was staring into my eyes, my mind suddenly went back to the party, where he had insulted me. "She is a maid" His voice echoing in my head, and that feeling of hurt pride came back and I clenched my jaw furiously before blurting out, "Why don't you go to your party?"

He moved in closer, and said, "The party's over." His voice strangely raspy.

The party was over? That meant I had been sleeping for hours. My mind had been so deeply disturbed by the humiliating incident that I had lost track of time, which I normally never did.

I glanced at Damian, his jacket, tie and vest were missing, the shirt was also unbuttoned to the sternum, and his hair looked slightly messy, which was enough to prove that the party was long over.

"Then go back to your girlfriend!" I spat angrily, and regretted immediately. Why did I even say this?

He lowered his head, and his lips curled up into a rare smile--like I had cracked a joke. "She's not my girlfriend," he said.

She wasn't his girlfriend? But why should it matter to me!

His tone and soft gaze had confused me, but no matter how distracting it was, the painful memory of the party kept flashing before my eyes everytime I looked at Damian--I could feel the disgust and anger rising up in my veins with each passing second.

In certain situations, when you've been hurt so badly, so unjustly, you get this strange sense of courage, even if the situation is extremely dangerous, so you just go ahead and do what your emotions are telling you to do, without fearing about the consequences. That's exactly what was happening to me. I knew questioning Damian would've been fatal for me, as he had never really let me ask him anything, but I still asked him anyway.

"Why have you come here, to a maids room?" I asked sharply.

He smirked and then looked at me softly, but didn't say anything.

Unable to understand his intentions and feeling frustrated, I started pushing him away with my frail knees, "Let go of me!" But he didn't budge at all, instead, inched in closer, his chest almost touching my breast, his breath falling on my face.

"Stop fighting or I will make you stop!" he growled and pulled my arms down swiftly and put them behind my back, holding them down tightly with just one hand to immobilize me.

As I struggled and wriggled to set myself free, his other hand started hovering over my mouth. "What are you doing?" I cried, feeling confused. "Keep quiet!" he murmured and began running his thumb over my lips gently, rubbing them, until my lipstick was smeared.

His cold thumb urged an entrance,"Open your mouth."

"No!" I shouted as I felt disgusted.

"I said, open your mouth!" he ordered, and without waiting for my response, shoved his thumb right inside my mouth. Stunned, and too shocked by the unexpected action, I screamed and tried speaking, but couldn't as he was pushing my tongue down with his hard thumb.

If a stranger had happened to stumble upon us, he'd have thought I was sucking on Damian's thumb and enjoying it, but it was nothing like that.

"How good this mouth feels...so soft, wet and warm," he whispered and stared at me intensely, but his eyes kept rolling back, trying hard to keep them open, as if he would pass out any moment.

"What has gotten into him? Why is he behaving like this?" I thought. "This was not Damian...this was some apparition, incubus from the dark realms."

The alcohol was dancing on his head like an untamed animal, after all, he had been drinking continuously for twelve hours.

As his grip around my wrists loosened, I quickly pushed him away and ran towards the door--but he was too fast, and instantly grabbed me from behind. "Let me go!" I screamed and hit him in his chest with my elbows.

With his arm around my chest and shoulders, he bent his knees a bit, and lifted me up in his arms and tossed me onto the bed roughly--it was sudden, but I was more amazed at his ability to toss me around so effortlessly, despite being so intoxicated.

As I sat on the bed, dishevelled, and rubbed along my arms to soothe the pain that the strong impact had caused, I looked at Damian, who was taking his shoes off.

Seeing an opportunity, I tried to leap from the bed, but like an active tiger, he pounced, took hold of me and yanked me back into the bed, "Where do you think you are going, huh?" he snarled and pinned me down to the bed, simultaneously applying a forceful pressure around my wrists to keep me in place.

I started thrashing around, and tried pushing myself up, but he quickly grabbed me by my thighs and dragged me under him, as if I were a sack, and locked my hips tighly between his knees.

I looked at him fiercely, gnashing my teeth as I jerked violently,"Let me go!!"--but he didn't listen. "I'll start slapping you, if you didn't stop fighting," he cautioned in a deep voice, causing me to tremble.

I would've hit him but he was just way too strong, even under the influence and any fight against him was sure to end up with my defeat.

It would've been so much better if he had just flogged me with a whip or choked me to death, because what he was doing right now was somehow worse than that.

I had prepared my mind and body for his punishment...but not in this way.

As the moonlight fell on his face, it revealed to me his dark eyes--that were filled with lust and anger. His jaw tensed up in a straight line when he found me looking up at him, and I quickly averted my gaze.

But couldn't help looking when his hands slid down to his belt, terrorised, I gaped at him as he slowly unbuckled it, metal clanked as he pulled it fiercely from the loops with a swish.

Heartbeat increased rapidly, skin burned with fear, and an unknown panic seized me. "Why is he removing his belt?"