Page 23 of Taking Me

Now, the thought of her being gone forever leaves a gaping hole in my heart, a void that can never be filled. A piece of me that will forever be missing. Each cherished moment, every hug and joyful giggle was locked away, replaced by the harsh reality of her absence.

I tried as best as I could to suppress those memories, burying them beneath layers of sorrow and loss, hoping that by doing so, the pain would lessen. But no matter how deep I buried them, they always found a way to resurface. And now, to know that this man, this monster, took her from me—it’s almost too much to bear.

Marklov laughs at my desperate attempt to escape the ropes binding me. His laughter is filled with cruel amusement as he takes pleasure in my suffering.

Tears start to soak through the blindfold, and I know this is a sight he relishes. He wants to see me like this. I hear him pull something out, and the sound of a torn velcro strap fills the room. Damn it. I try to keep myself from breaking down completely over the news he just unleashed, but how am I supposed to react when the man who ruined my childhood and murdered my mother has me in his grasp?

He begins tracing my skin with something familiar and sharp, a knife. He is touching me with a knife, I start to fight against the ropes and he yanks away,

“Ah ah ah Little Sinister I wouldn’t do that if I were you, this…knife of yours is very deadly.” He lets out in a mocked tone.

My knife? Is he using my own fuckin’ weapon against me?

My heart pounds as the cold metal of my knife grazes my skin.

“You think you can escape this? Escape me?” he taunts, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“You’re nothing but a pawn in my game, and I’ve only just begun to play with you, Little Sinister.”

Panic surges through me, battling against the numbing fear that threatens to paralyze me. I can’t let him see how much he’s affecting me; I won’t give him that satisfaction. I force myself to breathe steadily, focusing intently on the rhythmic pounding of my heartbeat echoing in my ears, trying to drown out his cruel laughter. Each breath feels like a small victory, a defiance against the terror he’s trying to instill. At least he just admitted that he won’t be killing me tonight, which gives me a sliver of hope to cling to, a slight chance to find a way out of this hell hole.

“I have waited and even dreamed about this moment for a long time, Little Sinister. I want everything to be perfect. That’s why I told you about your madre. I don’t want any secrets between us.”

Why would that even matter? His words swirl in my mind, adding to the confusion and fear. As I wiggle my hands back and forth, the ropes bite deeper into my skin, each time sending a jolt of pain through me. I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the searing pain and focus on any possible way to escape. His revelation about my mom only fuels my determination; I need to survive this. His death will fall into my hands one way or another.

“You honestly believe this is going to bring us closer?” I challenge, my voice steadier than I feel.

Despite the turmoil inside me, I can sense his excitement radiating off him, almost palpable, drifting in the air between us.

“Little Sinister, this is just the continuation of what I started all those years ago,” he says, his voice causing my stomach to churn.

The knife’s cold blade traces more of my skin, a vivid reminder of his dominance. Each touch sends shivers down my spine, highlighting the danger I’m in and the power he wields. His words and actions create a sinister symphony, playing on my deepest desires and pushing me to my limits.

“Secrets can be dangerous, but trust? That’s what I crave,” he murmurs, leaning closer.

“That’s what tonight is about, trust, and you showed me I can trust you with my light work, and for that, I will praise you. However, as for the disobedience you showed tonight,, I will punish you,” his voice darkens.

I stop my struggling, my lips beginning to tremble. Marklov places the knife back onto my warm flesh, the coldness causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin. He starts tracing my body, limb by limb, starting with my ankles. The blade glides up to my thighs, sending a shiver down my spine. From my thighs, he moves the tip of the blade to my muffin top. I can’t hold back a whimper.

“Do you feel that, Little Sinister?” he whispers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Every inch of you belongs to me now.”

My breath hitches as the knife continues its journey. I can feel the sharp edge pressing just enough to break the skin. My mind races, torn between the fear of what he might do next and the desperate need to find a way out.

“Why?” I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Why are you doing this?” I take a hard swallow “Master.”

He chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure.

“Because, my dear, breaking you is the only way I can truly own you.” He lifts the blade once again from my skin, and I feel a momentary relief before his footsteps draw closer.

His hand clamps down on my jaw, squeezing it until I open my mouth. Panic surges through me as he shoves a ball gag inside, muffling any noise I try to make.

“This ought to keep you quiet,” he says, his voice drips with pleasure.

The gag presses against my tongue, making it impossible to form words. My heart pounds in my chest as he steps back.

I try to scream out, but only a muffled whimper escapes. Not that anyone here will help me anyway.

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