Page 142 of Nocturne

“He chose you.” He whispered, looking like a deranged lunatic.

I stared at him, my body frozen in fear, exhaustion and confusion. His presence was suffocating. And I had no idea what he was rambling about.

“Bapo,” Vir called out, his voice commanding.

His eyes never left me. They gleamed with something I couldn’t quite place, but it made my stomach turn.

A figure emerged from the shadows. My breath caught in my throat, my heart hammering as the man stepped forward. He was a giant—tall, broad, and utterly terrifying. His skin was pale, nearly sickly, and his bald head was covered in a black tattoo, some ancient rune that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The sight of him made my skin crawl.

Vir didn’t waste any time. “Take care of her.”

The man, Bapo, smirked. It wasn’t a smile. It was something far darker. His yellowing teeth gleamed as he crouched in front of me, his beady eyes narrowing with a predatory gleam.

“With pleasure, master.”

I shuddered at the sound of his voice. It was like he was savouring every word, relishing in the terror that was building in my chest. And then Vir spoke again, his voice cold and commanding.

“Remember,” he warned, “She cannot be sullied. Not by you.”

Bapo nodded dutifully, bowing to his master.What the hell was happening here? What did he mean by that? Am I hearing things now?

Before I could even process what was happening, Bapo’s hands were on me, grabbing my hair with such force that it sent a jolt of pain right through my skull. I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as I was yanked forward, my body stumbling with each step he forced me to take. My limbs felt weak, and uncooperative. I couldn’t move fast enough to escape.

“Stop,” I begged, my voice trembling, but it was useless.

My words were swallowed by the silence of the forest as he dragged me. He didn’t care that I could barely walk; he didn’t care that thorns pricked my skin or I was clawing at his hands to let his grip loose. He dragged me like a rag doll down towards a sunken water body.

He then tossed me into it. The cold water hit me like a ton of bricks, my lungs constricting painfully as I accidentally sucked some of the water in. The pond was so cold that I felt my teethchattering from being inside just for a minute. The scary man then got in and tore at my clothes.

None of my screams or my lousy attempts to push him away worked. He was bigger and stronger, and his limbs cooperated, unlike mine. One of his hands held both of mine behind me, the grip twisting some crucial bone in my shoulder beyond pain. My cries of pain petrified a nearby flock of birds, and yet, it didn’t haze him.

“You and I,” he said, his hands grabbing at my breast as he pushed his erection inside his pants to rub on my back, “are going to have fun, little one.”

He laughed at my whimper, his hands ripping away at my remaining clothes. My throat was raw from screaming, and I couldn’t overpower him. He washed me, touching, lingering in inappropriate places, humping into my back. He continued doing it until he groaned into my ear. I puked into the water, realising what just happened.

He turned me around, pushing me away from my waste and dunked my head below the surface. I heard his cold laughter as I flailed my arms and my legs as panic set in. He held me underwater, letting me fight for a while until he pulled me back. My coughing fit, and cries had him letting out a burst of maniacal laughter.

He didn’t even let me gather my breath before he started dragging me again. I tried to scream again, but his laughter only continued—a sick, low chuckle that made my blood run cold.

“Shh,” he cooed, his voice almost affectionate, like he was speaking to a child. “We’re just getting started,”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel the malice in them, feel the twisted hunger that laced every syllable. Bapo’s grip was unrelenting, dragging me across the rough ground, the sharp edges of rocks cutting into my bare skin.

I could barely think, my mind spinning, my body crying out for mercy. And then we reached the clearing. The sight of it made my stomach twist in horror.

A pit, a large one, sat in the centre of the clearing. The fire burned inside it, the flames licking the sky above us. Around the pit, different symbols were carved into the earth. I wasn’t interested in history, but I knew these were some kind of runes. There was something about them that set me on edge. Filled me with dread and terror as I saw red liquid shining inside the furrows.

My eyes followed the runes and landed on another small fire set on the edge of the clearing. A man sat in front of it. A brandishing iron was sizzling inside the embers, glowing angry red.

He was filthy. His skin was caked in dirt and ash, his hair matted and tangled. His eyes were wide, glazed over with something feral, something animalistic. He looked like a creature from a nightmare. His gaze flicked to me, his lips curling into a vile grin as he slowly licked his lips, savouring the sight of me.

I couldn’t breathe. My body locked in place, terror flooding every vein, every nerve. This was worse than anything I had imagined.This man, this place—it isn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

Bapo pinned the man with a superior look. “Master orders that no one touches her. She is blessed by our god.”

Nothing was making sense. Not his words, not that place, nor the feeling I was getting from there. More than anything, I was embarrassed to be standing in front of two bloody men without a stitch of clothing on me.

The man’s eyes flickered with fear, and he lowered his gaze as if acknowledging the power Bapo held over him. Bapo smirked, his hand tightening around my wrists, and he twisted me to face him.

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