Page 70 of Delivered to the Devil

“Breathe,” a deep voice demands. I barely register the words. Not until Janos repeats the order with more force and shakes me. “Breathe!”

My gaze snaps up to a familiar set of eyes that stare directly into me.

“Calm down,” Janos whispers, now more gently, and presses his palms to my shoulders.

Tears stream down my face as I stare up at him, caught in a frozen moment that shuts out everything else. The weight of his hands on my shoulders grounds me—takes me out of the panic—and the relief of him finally being here with me is so great I see nothing else.

But the stillness only lasts a moment.

Another slice of the knife across my ribcage drags me straight back to hell. A new, even more desperate scream tears through my throat as panic takes my lungs in a death grip. It’s like drowning. Drowning in pain, drowning in panic. I can’t see or think. It’s like I’m shattering into a million tiny pieces of myself that I won’t ever be able to recover.

Even when the knife is gone, I can still feel the grating sensation of the sharp blade skating across my bones. Like nails on a chalkboard. A fork on a plate. A horrific image that sticks to your retina.

I vaguely register how Janos’s hands restlessly move around, trying to immobilize and comfort me at the same time. A strong hand presses down on my chest while another gently strokes my hair. Then both hands dig into my shoulders before moving up to my face to caress me. His words are the same jumble of small attempts at reassurance and harsh demands to breathe.

But nothing will penetrate the petrifying panic. I just lie there, screaming and screaming, the sound only interrupted by pitiful sobs that have my stomach spasming.

The knife continues its harrowing journey over my torso, slicing open my skin.

In brief moments, Janos manages to connect with me and get me breathing. Most of the time, though, there’s only pain and fear, eating into me like parasites, wiping out everything in their path. And when Gabor takes out his very hard dick and positions it against my opening, I crash into blinding despair. I can’t see anything but the pain burning across my skin and thecruel beast of a man that forces himself upon me. Everything becomes tinged with sickening neon colors, and icy shudders shoot through my skin like I’m in a feverish dream. But this is no dream. I feel the realness of the sensation all too clearly as Gabor forces his way into me, grating against my dry walls and stretching my tense muscles.

“No!” I scream. Horrific images of slashes in my skin, red splashes, and Gabor’s manic grin flutter in my vision as I thrash my head from side to side, and the world spins with nauseating effect.

“No!” I wail, over and over, but it only spurs Gabor on.

He growls with feral hunger as he shoves inside, slamming into the bottom of my pussy with a force that cramps up my stomach. I scream with a force that tears at my throat, but mind-numbing horror snuffs out the sound as Gabor slices the knife across my ribs. I spasm and jerk, all my muscles coiling painfully tight as the knife rakes across my bone. Through all the violence and horror Gabor has thrust upon me, nothing compares to this—the feeling of metal cutting against my ribs as my stomach cramps up around the thick, unwelcome cock inside me.

Gabor draws back and shoves in again, tearing at my dry tissues as he goes, making it feel like salt in a wound as he repeats the thrust. He positions the knife over another rib, and pain takes me in a chokehold as he cuts again.

I don’t know how many times he does this before he drops the knife and fucks me until he comes.

When he finally pulls out, I’m trembling violently, feeling so weak I can barely move a finger, and my skin is slick with cold sweat and blood. I’m hot yet cold at the same time, and my mind is a black pit full of screams and flashes of blood and sharp steel, manic grins and deep cuts.

But Gabor is not done.

When someone flips me onto my stomach, he presses the knife against my back.

I vaguely register someone telling him to stop—that he’s going too far—but I’m too far gone to process the words, and soon they slip from my attention fully. Everything does. My body—my mind—can’t take anymore. Something clicks. A fuse that blows? An overload that makes the system collapse?

Everything goes black. I’m still conscious, seeing the room around me, but I don’t register anything. Not the metallic smell of blood, not the red blotches on the plastic sheet, not the searing pain of the knife tearing through my skin. It all happens in a distant world I don’t have access to, and I fervently hope I’ll never go back there.

CHAPTER 34

“Oblivion”

by Mastodon

Janos

“Rebecca.” I press my hand to her cheek and lean down to seek eye contact. When she doesn’t react, I grab her shoulders and shake her lightly. “Stay with me.”

I don’t care if Gabor notices how much I care for her; all that matters is getting her back. Her eyes have gone blank, staring straight ahead as if the world is a blank void and not the agonizing hell she was trapped in moments ago. It would be a mercy to let her stay there, but I can’t accept it. I can’t accept that I let this happen, and I won’t be able to live with myself if I can’t get her back this time.

My heart slams against my ribcage as my eyes flit back and forth between the deadly still girl, the hand that cuts yet another wound across her milky skin, and the face of the man whom I vowed to never betray.

I should stop him. He wouldn’t be happy about it. Hell, he might even try to slash me with the knife, seeing how his eyes are eerily focused, full of sadistic purpose. It’s like he’s possessed when he gets like this, and that’s why he wants me here. He doesn’t like things to get messy, and he’s smart enough to knowhe can’t always prevent that, so he wants me to do it for him. And he knows I’m strong enough to stop him if need be.

But stopping this now would be for the wrong reasons. Rebecca is not about to die. I’ve seen enough blood to know that this is far from enough to be life-threatening. At least not immediately. There’s no saying how her body will cope with this trauma. I’m not sure she has enough stamina left to get through it. If that’s my reason for stopping Gabor, I should have ended this the moment he pressed his cock to her opening and positioned the knife on her ribs, but my mind was too focused on shoving my emotions aside and doing my job.

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