Page 10 of His to Slash

One night, I jolted awake, heart pounding. The room was pitch black, but I sensed a presence. As my eyes adjusted, a familiar silhouette materialized by my feet.

Terror froze me in place. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He stood motionless, watching me. The mask hid his expression, but I felt the weight of his gaze boring into me.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached out. I wanted to scream, to run, but my body was broken. I lay there, paralyzed, as his fingers slipped under the blanket. They brushed against my hip, and pain exploded through me. I bit back a cry, tears stinging my eyes.

His hand moved lower, pressing against the places where my bones should have been shattered. The agony was blinding. I choked on a scream, my vision going white at the edges. Just when I thought I'd pass out, the pressure eased.

Grayson's touch became feather-light, almost reverent as it lingered over my abdomen. The gentleness was worse than the pain. It felt like a violation, this twisted parody of intimacy. My breath caught in my throat, confusion warring with revulsion.

For one horrifying moment, a traitorous part of my mind whispered that maybe he was trying to help. The thought made bile rise in my throat. This monster wasn't capable of kindness. Whatever this was, it wasn't meant to comfort me.

Suddenly, he pulled back. The silence stretched, taut as a wire about to snap. Then, he spoke. His voice was low, rough from disuse, but unmistakable.

"It's…healing…”

The words hit me like a physical blow. My blood turned to ice in my veins. It wasn't just the shock of hearing him speak after so long. It was the implication behind his words. He knew.

He knew about the unnatural way my body was knitting itself back together. The broken bones that should have taken months to heal were already mending. Bruises faded faster than they should. Cuts closed before my eyes.

I'd tried to convince myself I was imagining it, that the isolation and trauma were playing tricks on my mind. But Grayson's words confirmed my worst fears. Something was happening to me, something beyond my understanding.

Tremors wracked my body. I wanted to deny it, to scream that he was wrong. But the words wouldn't come. All I could do was lie there, shaking, as the full weight of my situation crashed down on me.

Grayson stood there, watching. I could feel his eyes on me, drinking in my fear and confusion. Whatever was happening to me, he understood it. And that terrified me more than anything else.

The silence stretched on, heavy with unspoken questions and dark possibilities. I lay there, trapped between Grayson's looming presence and the growing horror of my own body's betrayal.

He smiled, or at least, I imagined he did. There was no mistaking the predatory anticipation that rolled off him in waves. My breath hitched in my throat as he reached for me, his gloved fingers cool against my skin.

I felt his touch between my legs, invasive and intimate. His fingers probed gently at first, exploring my delicate inner walls, searching for wounds that were no longer there. The pain should have been searing, but instead, there was a warmth building inside me, a treacherous heat that threatened to consume me.

When he found the spot that made me gasp, his curiosity was piqued. His fingers pressed firmer, a clinical sort of intrigue that made my stomach churn. Was it pain or pleasure that colored my expression? I didn't know myself, caught in the maelstrom of sensations that flooded through me.

His other hand pressed down on my abdomen. I winced as he prodded at the tender flesh, but the pain was swiftly replaced by a dizzying surge of pleasure as he continued to massage my g spot with maddening precision.

Tears streamed down my face. The wetness that coated his fingers was undeniable.

He began to move within me, a slow, deliberate rhythm that stoked the fire he'd ignited. My sobs filled the room, mingling with the wet sounds of his fingers fucking me. I was powerless to resist, pinned beneath him as he claimed me body and soul.

When I came, it was like a dam bursting within me. The force of my orgasm wracked my body, eliciting a cry that echoed off the walls of my prison. I felt violated and alive, my nerves singing with the intensity of the sensations coursing through me.

He withdrew his fingers, and for a moment, he was still. Then, with a fluid grace, he brought his hand to his mask. I heard the wet sound of him sucking my essence from his gloves.

And just like that, he was gone. The room was plunged back into silence, the only sound my ragged breathing and the fading echo of my heartbeat in my ears.

eleven

I woketo the sun slanting through the dirty windows. I knew I had to move to start searching for answers, but my body protested with every inch I pushed it. Each step sent shoots of pain through my hips. I was a mess of contradictions, my body defying the laws of nature as I slowly limped my way through the dusty rooms of my inherited home.

Room by room, I searched for anything that might give me a clue as to what was happening to me—and to uncover more about Grayson and his connection to this place. In one of the bedrooms, I found a hidden compartment built into the wall. Inside was a stack of yellowing journals, each one carefully locked.

I recognized the name embossed on the leather covers: Hale. These were Grayson's ancestors' journals, hidden here for reasons I could only begin to imagine. With trembling fingers, I picked the lock on the first one.

As I read, a dark history unfolded before me. The Hale family had been conducting experiments, delving into rituals and practices that made my blood run cold. They were obsessed with body modification, pushing the boundaries of what the human body could endure. I stumbled upon sketches of grotesque figures, their bodies distorted and twisted, limbs rearranged in ways that defied nature.

The more I read, the more I understood the town's complicity in covering up the horrors tied to the Hale family. Red Hallow wasn't just the setting for their experiments—it was complicit in them. The locals had turned a blind eye, their silence enabling the gruesome practices to continue unchecked.

But why? What had driven the Hale family to such extremes? And more importantly, what did any of this have to do with me? I was determined to find out.

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