Hell is Lost | Book I

Chapter 23

Why do I hate,
the idea of being free
Suddenly?

As the need, and craving for Damian's touch increased, I became more and more addicted to his feel, his body, his face, his breath, his smell and even his cruelty.

As wicked and corrupted as it was, it was also the truth, and it had become my reality, unfortunately. 

Maybe I was always like this, and Damian just happened to kidnap me. Maybe, because of the lack of any authority in my life, I had become attracted to his control. With no parents, no family and especially after grandma's death, my life had become so empty, so bleak that I had nothing to lose. Maybe there was never a sun in my life, never any hope for me, and when the darkness pulled me in, I gave in to it immediately. 

Damian was like that drug, which I knew was bad for me, but I still took it, because without it, I would suffer painfully, and die. 

That one night had changed me completely, and turned me into a miserable human being, but Damian didn't change at all--infact, he became more cold and cruel, which made me think, "Was that night even real? Or was it just a long dream?...a fragment of my sick fantasy?" 

But no! It was real, very real. The marks on my body were the evidence. The heat and flame, that he had ignited that night were still inside me. My body still remembered his touch, the look in his eyes. My skin still shivered when I thought about his kiss.

Heart missed, and longed for his gentle touch, tender kisses, which was never going to happen, but my body, this vessel, just wanted him near me--at any cost! 

So, to satisfy the needs of my body, I kept on making mistakes, and Damian kept on punishing me. Sometimes he would ignore it, but when he did catch me, he made sure he wasn't showing any mercy. Each punishment was more severe and painful than the last one.

One time, he locked me up in the red room, on the second floor, because I had dumped his important business file in the wet trash. He kept me in there till morning, and trust me, it was difficult. Being alone, in a room that was bathed in red light, resembling blood, and then there were these chains, handcuffs and whips that felt like creepy monsters trying to eat me. The deafening silence, the hidden and unknown fears lurking in the shadows were pure torture to me. I spent each second crying, frightened to my bones by unimaginable horrors, hugging my knees tightly as I trembled and screamed alone. When I woke up in the morning, cold and shivering on the floor, there was not a single shoulder to cry on, no one to caress me. 

The worst part about my plight was that, Damian never comforted me after punishing me, and I didn't know if he ever felt bad either. 

It was morning, and I was getting ready to go downstairs for breakfast. It was going to be my first breakfast without Agnes here, as she had gone to visit William, and was going to return in a few days. Now it was just me and Damian in the mansion, plus some helping staff. I wore a light-blue floral tunic dress, with buttons in the front, and put my hair up in a braid.

I went downstairs, my tea and eggs were waiting for me on the dining table. I sat down, took a bite, and didn't like the taste at all, as I had gotten used to Agnes' cooking. Lackadaisical, and unenthusiastic, I was lazily pricking the scrambled eggs with the fork, when Damian suddenly entered the dining room, with a file in his hand, and sat across me.

He never sat at the dining table, when I was around. So, seeing him sitting like that in front of me was new to me. 

I sat up straight, heart started racing, as it always did whenever he was around, but I still managed to sneak a look at him. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, arms resting on either side of the file placed before him, his eyes were buried in his work.