Page 86 of Grotesque Love

I give him a weak smile, hoping to buy some time to think. To plan. To flee. The words burn my tongue, but I force myself to say them anyway. “I’m yours. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Please, don’t hurt anyone else.”

His laugh is chilling, and he reaches up to grab my chin.

“That sounds like a deal, my dear,” he says, a malicious grin spreading across his face.

He releases his hold and takes a small step back, but I know I’m not truly free from his madness.

“Your snooping forced my hand. But it’s okay. I can keep you down here until tomorrow.”

I frown. “W-what’s tomorrow, Carver?”

“Why have you never called me Father?” He sighs, sounding disappointed as he strokes my hair away from my face, and I grit my back teeth to keep from flinching.

“I…” I need to lie. “I’ve never l-loved y-you like a f-father. That’s why I couldn’t say it.”

He looks at me, his eyes filled with something akin to longing, and then nods. “Alright, then. Tomorrow is the anniversary, you know.”

“Of your wedding to Mum?”

“Yes. But that’s not important. It’s the anniversary of when we first met. Well, when I first saw you. I knew right then you were the one, and I’ve waited such a long time for you. I want everything to be perfect, my dear.”

Sweat is trickling down the back of my neck, and my heart ispounding like an ominous war drum. I need to get out of this place. I need to find a way to escape this twisted game that Carver’s been playing for too long.

“That’s why we must wait until tomorrow. One more night won’t hurt us.”

One more night won’t hurt us, my arse. I’m trapped in a basement full of body parts with a woman’s head at my feet.

My mind races with ideas, with plans to get away from him. I can do this. I can find a way to break free from his grasp. I just have to be patient, and keep my wits about me.

As I sit there, bound to the chair, I can feel his eyes on me. Feel his breath on the back of my neck as he paces and pauses to sniff my hair.

The more I try to think, the more my thoughts become jumbled. Fear seeps into every pore of my body, and I know that if I don’t do something, things are only going to get worse.

I swallow hard. Carver is a monster, and I don’t know why he’s fixated on me.

Carver rummages around. A few moments later, he brings back a tray of food and drinks.

“I didn’t want you to go hungry,” he says, his voice surprisingly gentle. It’s like he’s trying to brainwash me into thinking that this is normal, that he’s a caring and considerate step-father instead of my captor.

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind. “I don’t want to eat or drink anything.”

He laughs, a cold, chilling sound. “That’s not how this works. You’ll eat what I give you, and you’ll drink what I give you. You’ll do as I say, or I canmakeyou.”

I look him in the eye, but there’s something about the intensity of his gaze that makes me falter. I don’t know what he’s put in the food or drink, but I can’t risk it. What’s worse, succumbing to whatever drugs he might be slipping me, or enraging him? He’s already said he wants to wait until tomorrow to make me his, so I have to trust that if I’m compliant he won’t hurt me. Yet.

Nodding, I take a sip of the water as he holds the glass up to my lips and force down several small pieces of bread which he hand feeds me.

“There, my sweet Rapunzel, that wasn’t so bad was it?” I shake my head and he hums his approval. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Carver wait!” I cry as he turns to leave. He pauses. “Please don’t leave me down here.”

He turns back to me, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and triumph. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon enough.”

“Please,” I beg.

Carves sighs but returns to me. “I suppose there’s no harm in me staying a little longer. I have to say, I do like you awake like this, Ari. I didn’t think I would. I normally prefer you to be compliant and doll-like, but knowing you’re aware of every minute, fills me with joy.”

As he speaks, he undoes his trousers and takes out his cock. Saliva pools behind my back teeth, a sure sign that I’m going to be sick, as he begins to slowly stroke himself.

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