Page 51 of In Love with the Devil

The sound of my door unlocking wakes me. The light hits my face before I can sit up. When I open my eyes again, I realize it's not Julian, it’s Dr. Michaelson.

“Don’t worry. I killed him. You’re free,” he consoles me and I cry on his shoulder, still not feeling safe. Only when I hear police sirens, do I breathe out in relief. He kisses me, touches me everywhere and I take it because it’s not Julian’s hands onme, it’s my beautiful doctor. Things progress quickly. I guess he was worried about me. He’s inside me, fucking me fast but gently caressing me. The climax is so strong it becomes painful. Suddenly, I can’t take it. My own moans wake me and I realize no one saved me. I was just dreaming and I’m still here, all alone. An excruciating cramp in my belly takes my breath away.

“Ah––!” My scream is long and echoes. I push on my belly and lift my upper body off the drenched bed. It’s not just a drop or two, it’s a puddle of blood. The intensity of the pain pushes tears from my eyes.

Oh no, not this. Not here. Fuck. It hurts so bad.The anguish comes in waves as if someone were squeezing my uterus. I crawl to the dim-lit bathroom, already knowing what’s going to happen. Everything comes out of me. It feels like an eternity, but the pain will just not cease.

"Julia–n!" I scream as loud as possible.

It doesn’t help that I’m not properly hydrated. After the fifth vomiting spree, I know I’m in critical condition. I spend what feels like hours in the bathroom, going between the shower and the toilet. Big clumps of blood accumulate in the shower. I use the hot water to calm the pain, and to clean myself and the space.

While sitting with my knees to my chest against a corner, I scratch at the wall as another wave of hell courses through me. By the time another wave of agony arrives, I can only wish it away in my mind. I don’t have the energy to scream, cry, or even moan. Even breathing is a struggle. My eyelids are too heavy.

Chapter twenty-one

Dying

Julian

She’s obviously not thinking things through. The last time she pissed me off, I almost killed her. She knows that. I slam the door shut, then the next door, and the door after that, and the door at the top of the stairs. As I walk up, the rage quickly dissipates. Thank God. I spend the rest of the night watching the video in silence of me fucking her mouth, then her pussy, and finally her sweet, tight ass. Soaking up the details of her pixelated face while she was being obedient, enduring pain, and coming for me again and again.When I pause and take a look at the time, I see I fucked her pussy for thirty minutes and then her ass for another forty-five, the first round.I promise I’ll last longer next time, pretty bird. It had been too long.

The next morning, I wake up late since it’s my day off. I take my time, read some news articles for an hour before getting ready for my run while listening to the sound of us. Astoria sounds spectacular. Her screams of pain thunder in my ears while the ones of pleasure beg for mercy. I can pick up when she’s tryingto resist crying from euphoria. The extensive recording gives me the motivation to keep running, and I end up doing ten miles.

I’m much calmer after. Definitely, if it weren’t for the video and the sounds of her, she’d still be in great danger of me punishing her today. Thinking about it over breakfast, I realize it’s understandable. She’d gotten used to doing something she didn’t like just for me, and last night I demanded too much of her. It can’t be easy to always be the giver in a relationship. I take a shower and walk downstairs with a tray of oatmeal, an apple, and a glass of water. When I open the door to her cell, I see the chain is fully extended toward the bathroom.

“Astoria?”

No response. I find her folded, unconscious in a pool of her own blood. “Fuck!"

Chapter twenty-two

The Rescue

Astoria

His skeleton-painted face gawks at me with shock.

“S-sorry. I’m so… sorry,” I whisper as the pain rolls in. My breathing hurries and I bite my lower lip, failing to withstand the pain.

“It’s okay. Come.” His arms wrap under mine and pull me up. A scream fills the room as the wave squeezes all of my belly. My legs falter.

“I can't… take it. Please. Take me to the hospital. Please. It-it hu-hurts. Please.” The whisper trembles with my lips.

He picks me up and lays me on the bed. Shaking, I roll to my side, still crying from the anguish while he wraps me in the sheets.

"I'll be right back." The door stays ajar, but it’s not like I can get out of this room.

It feels like an eternity. Where is he? Why doesn't he just knock me out? What's taking so long? When he returns, I can tell he ran back because he's out of breath. I’m surprised and confused that he gives a damn. Shouldn't he be relishing in my suffering like last night? Isn’t this the same man who stabbed and ruined my hands, whipped and raped me until I almost died? But I don’t care. I’ll take it. Anything he can do about this, I’ll take.

“H-help me...”

“Iam,pretty bird. Just a minute.”

It feels so good to hear him call me that. He only calls me that when he’s happy with me, but that can’t be the case after the way I yelled at him and after the mess I've made. I watch him take up a liquid into a syringe and walk toward me. Even though I wished for it just minutes ago, panic fills me. What if he's knocking me out only to rape me? I'll have to endure the pain from my cramps and him.“What are you doing? I just need aspirin. Don’t drug me. I’m sorry. Please don’t drug me. Plea–”

“Astoria, calm–"

"Julian, I can't, please–"

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