Page 70 of Body Tox

“Oh, silly little puppet. Did you really think you could kill me? I will haunt you to the very last breath, baby. You are mine to torment. I fucking own you, Eira. Mind, body, and soul.”

I couldn’t fucking breathe.

My vision was flashing with his hands and his words. Images flashed with that lightning, placing me under his brutal body, under his tools of pain.

I wasn’t in my own skin.

I was floating in slow motion to my past. Reliving the pain and the fear I had every day. Tears left my eyes, my face giving off zero emotion otherwise. He truly had haunted me. The day I took the video on my phone to send to the Debt Collector, his blood on my hands, the rain pouring down on me—his words, his hands, his abyss-filled black eyes.

I felt myself fall, hitting the floor and not feeling the impact, my body as numb as my mind as the images flashed over and over like an old-time movie projector screen.

Pain…fear…blood…defeat.

I’d failed.

His eyes drew closer, a backdrop in the flipping scenes of my past. His smile promised the pain it always did, and I lay there, my fight, my survival instinct frozen in fear to even try.

“We will have so much fun, little puppet. Don’t you worry. It’ll be just like old times.”

I closed my eyes, succumbing to the projector of my weak mind, blocking out his smile and endless black eyes.

Iwalked upstairs, my body swimming in the liquor. I tipped the bottle, unable to get any more nectar of the gods.

Stupid bottle,” I mumbled, chucking the empty container into a corner and hearing the glass shards sprinkle on the wooden floor.

I made my way back up to the torture bed. Echo would finish snooping soon and come up to find that I was, in fact, a good boy and put myself to bed. I looped my hands in the taut chains, pulling my muscles and making them ache instantly.

I thought about my Little Wraiths taste. Her sweetness made me drool.

“Dammit, woman, hurry up.”

I made sure the chains were tight enough to keep me unable to wiggle my way out and do something dumb, like chasing down the woman to fuck her on a cross in the main hall.

That sounded exciting. What a devilish treat.

Lord knew I wasn’t an angel, but I was pretty sure sister Beatrice would crucify me for real if she ever found out.

I couldn’t hear anything over the crackling of the thunder, the damn weather rumbling the whole church, making it vibrate.

The chains made a soft noise, protesting from the horrible weather. It was so much louder up here from the broken window, and the rain was pouring in through the hole.

It made it cold up here, and I was starting to regret chaining myself past my ability to escape.

“Dammit, Echo, come snuggle. I need your ‘breast-esses’ to keep me warm.” I slurred, envisioning using Echos rack as a pillow.

I knew she’d punch me for trying, and the thought made me smile.

What the fuck? Since when did I smile at being punched?

“Stop thinking like that, you dumb fuck.” I chastised myself, my dick already popping up at the idea.

“No,” I said out loud.

Whether I was talking to my sudden hard-on or my frazzled brain, I didn’t know.

I listened to the raindrops dripping onto the wooden attic floor. The makeshift candle holders Echo had stuck under the problem areas were catching the drops and making a blip noise.

Those sounds felt like a clock ticking away.

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