Page 61 of Hunted By the Headless Horseman
I remind myself of the countless voices in my mind. My family, my older sisters who are married, the Elders, the Brothers, women in the village—both single and married with children—all reminding me of how lucky I am. Thaddeus is handsome. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt are rolled to the elbows, showcasing his superior muscle, veins in his arms pronounced. The circle brand on his wrist. One he will give me soon. Thaddeus is powerful. The most skilled of all the Brothers.
But his gaze is wolfish as he leers down at me. When he captures my chin in one strong hand, commanding my face to his eye, I swallow hard and clench my fingers tightly until they turn white.
You are worthy of love, Belladonna, Mimi reminds me.
I remember passages about how women were first at the cradle and then at the Cross. How Deborah was a Judge and went into battle. How Jael drove a tent peg through the enemy general’s skull. Esther.
“It is our honeymoon, little Belle. I will not have you waste our time by reading.”
My mind races as Thaddeus lowers his head to take my mouth, hard and ruthless.He bites and mauls. And rips the nightgown from my frame, petite next to his, hauling me back into bed.
I would like to believe this is a story I’m telling. I need to believe it. I must believe it.The quote chants in my mind as he stabs a knee between my legs, jerking them apart.
Those who can believe that such stories are only stories have a better chance.
He tells me how beautiful I am, how long he waited for me, how he knew I would be his wife the moment he saw me…when I was ten, serving meals in the communal dining hall.
If it’s a story I’m telling, then I have control over the ending.
He plunges two fingers into me, finding me dry. A growl rumbles in his chest. No, I clench my eyes shut, panicking, willing and begging my sex to get wet. It only does with his spit.
Then there will be an ending, to the story, and real life will come after it.
He spears himself into me, all the way to the back of my cunt. I wish I could say he isn’t so big, but he is. He’s huge and viral with the stamina to match. He bites the side of my neck, so hard, he draws blood like a vampire feeding on me. Marks of ownership I will wear with honor, he says while pumping inside me. Punishing marks because my body isn’t prepared for him, isn’t aroused by my…husband.
The worst part? I still orgasm. Because Thaddeus wants me to. Because it’s another way he proves his power over me.
Will it always be like this?
Tears form in my eyes. Because it’s not just his spit that slickens me down there now.
I can pick up where I left off.~Offred, The Handmaid’s Tale.
It’s blood.
A branch slapping me in the face jerks me back to reality. I gasp, pushing all the thoughts down along with the bile in my throat.
The forest confuses me, toying with my sight, my direction. The moonlight flickers throughthe trees, casting twisted shapes on the ground that seem to dance like the sinister figures in my memories.
I banish him from my mind, not wanting to remember that one night I followed Thaddeus—my husband, my captor—into the depths of the woods.
Each heartbeat feels like a countdown, the sound echoing in my ears, drowning out everything but the frantic rhythm of my pulse. My chest hurts from my thundering heart, each breath coming in sharp gasps as I struggle to shake off the visions that threaten to engulf me. Revenant whinnies as we approach the crest of the tall hill
The path blurs beneath her hooves, the rocks beneath her slipping away down the hill into darkness like an abyss.
“Focus, Belle,” I whisper to myself, but it sounds distant, drowned out by the chaos in my mind. Thaddeus, lost in the throes of his pleasure, spilling his seed into me, and snapping his teeth—taunting me, getting off on my fear.
It didn’t matter that I orgasmed with him. It felt…wrong. I read about dissociation, but I never floated away. I never went outside my body or so deep in my mind. I simply focused on the grains in the wood ceiling of our honeymoon cabin. And I counted the stones around the fireplace.
The echoes of his cruel laughter reverberate in my skull, pulling me deeper into a spiral of dread.
At the top of the hill, I can see the watchtowers of the Covenant beyond the trees—about a mile away. My heart ricochets in my chest, wrecking itself.
“Help!” I want to scream, but no sound escapes.
Instead, the world begins to darken, a suffocating blackness creeping in at the edges of my vision. Ohnoohnoohno!—not now! It’s the worst place for me to pass out. They’ll leave the compound at times. They’ll hunt. Or…I choke on a breath at one significant memory—one of horror.
I can’t go back. They’ll find me.
