Page 32 of Dark Therapy
Her gaze faltered, just for a heartbeat, before she caught herself and leaned in, her pen poised. Goddamn relentless. “Can you give me an example of a time you experienced this obsession?” she asked, her voice steady but strung tight. “What was it like? How did you feel?”
A smirk twisted across my lips, sharp and wicked, as the game unfolded exactly the way I wanted. This was almost too fuckingeasy. “Oh, Millie,” I drawled, my voice low and venomous, letting my eyes drag over her, pinning her in place. “You’re the perfect example.”
Her breath hitched, barely audible, but enough to light that fire in me. The faint flush coloring her cheeks? Goddamnaddictive. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice tight, brittle, as the first cracks spidered through her composure.
I leaned forward, just enough to invade her space, my voice dropping into a dark, intimate whisper. “The very first moment I saw you, Iknew. It wasn’t a choice—it was a goddamn gravitationalpull, dragging me straight into your orbit. You, with your quiet strength, your razor-sharp mind, your vulnerability you’re so desperate to hide. Every single piece of you isintoxicating.”
Her fingers tightened around that pathetic notepad again, her body betraying her more with every fidget. I smiled—feral, unrelenting—as I continued. “This isn’t about wanting you, Millie. It’s so much worse. It’shunger. A goddamnneed. Like an addiction I have no intention of kicking. Possessing you isn’t a goal—it’s anecessity. Every fear, every secret, every filthy little thought you bury in the dark corners of your mind—I need it. I needyou.”
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a menacing growl, watching her shift in her seat, trying and failing to break awayfrom my gaze. “The thought of anyone elsetouchingyou? Breathing the same air as you? It makes me want to burn the whole fucking world to ash. I’ve seen the edge of sanity, sweetheart. I’ve danced on it. And I know exactly how far I’ll go to make sure you stay untouched. Unscarred.”
Her breathing stuttered, her lips parting slightly before she caught herself. That flicker of fear in her eyes? Fuckingperfect. She fought to steady herself, her voice sharpening just enough to be impressive. “Damien,” she started, her tone a careful, calculated weapon, “this obsession you describe… it’s concerning. Can you help me understand where it comes from?”
I barked out a laugh, low and jagged, leaning back in my chair. “You think this is something you candissect? File away into one of your neat little categories?” My smirk widened, feral and mocking. “You can try, but let me make something clear: My obsession with you, doctor, isn’t born from one single thing. It’s a symphony of chaos—my past, my scars, my need to own, to control, toconsume.”
Her brow furrowed, that analytical mind of hers clawing for something solid to hold onto. She leaned forward slightly, pushing against the weight of my presence. “So, this fixation,”she pressed, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her unease, “it’s rooted in your experiences? A product of your history?”
“Smart girl,” I sneered, letting the words hang between us like a challenge. “You’re good at this, aren’t you? Piecing together the fragments, trying to make sense of the monster sitting in front of you. But don’t fool yourself, Millie. Don’t think for a second that you can comprehend the depths of me. My mind is darker, more twisted, than you’ll ever be ready to admit.”
Her breath caught again, but she pushed forward, her desperation to maintain control almost impressive. Almost. “Thenhelpme,” she said, her voice sharp with a mix of professionalism and something raw. “Help me understand. What is it about me that drives you to this point? What exactly do you desire?”
I leaned in, so close I could hear her pulse racing, feel thefearshe was barely holding back. My voice dropped into a dark, mocking whisper, dripping with venom. “What do I desire, Millie?” I let the words hang, watching the tension in her every move. “Simple. I want to peel you apart, piece by fucking piece. Expose everything you’re so desperate to hide. I want to ripaway every last shred of control you think you have. To own your fears, your thoughts, yoursoul.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, the tension in the room climbing like a storm ready to break. Her knuckles tightened around the arms of her chair as she tried to cling to composure. “Control over me?” she echoed, her voice laced with a defiant edge as her gaze searched mine, hunting for weakness that didn’t fucking exist. “You realize how unhealthy that is, don’t you?”
I laughed—a low, guttural sound that filled the silence like smoke. “Unhealthy? Sweetheart, I don’t give a damn about healthy. Healthy is for people who are afraid to touch the fire. Me? I am the goddamn fire. I thrive in chaos, Millie. I was born in it,shapedby it. You think I care about fitting into your neat little box of acceptable behavior? No. I wield the darkness, and I love it.”
Her eyes narrowed, her defiance flashing like a flare in the dark. “And what happens,” she asked, her voice biting but shaky at the edges, “if I refuse to let you control me? If I push back against your… obsession?”
I leaned forward, slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in. My voice dropped to a low, venomous whisper that curled around her like a noose. “You can push all you want, Amelia, but let me tell you something—it won’t change a goddamn thing. Ialwaysget what I want. Always. That’s not arrogance; it’s reality. I will tear down every wall you put up, brick by brick, until there’s nothing left. No resistance. No barriers. Just you and me. I’ll twist your reality so hard you’ll forget what normal ever felt like, until you understand that fighting me only makes it hurtmore.”
Her body betrayed her, stiffening, but not before I caught it—that quickened breath, the way her pupils widened just enough to give her away. She was afraid. But she was something else, too.Excited, maybe.Drawn. She could fight it all she wanted; I knew the truth. “You talk about inevitability,” she said, her voice tight but wavering, “like it’s supposed to be comforting.”
I tilted my head, letting my smirk twist into something darker, more sinister. “Comfort? Comfort is a lie people tell themselves when they’re too weak to face reality. The world doesn’t run on comfort, Millie—it runs onpower. And right now? I’ve got all of it. You can fight, you can scream, you cando whatever you want. But in the end, you’ll see. You’llfeel. And you’ll realize there’s no point in resisting.”
Her eyes hardened, flashing with that stubborn streak I loved breaking down. But beneath it, I saw the crack. The flicker of curiosity. Of something darker. She was drawn to this, tome, even if she hated herself for it. “And what are you offering, Damien?” she asked, her voice softening, slipping into something almost vulnerable. “What is it you think I need from you?”
I leaned back, letting the heavy silence stretch until it was suffocating, until every fucking second felt like a battle she was losing. When I spoke, my voice was sharp, deliberate, like a blade slicing through the air. “Freedom, Millie. Freedom from your past, from all that shit you’ve buried so deep it’s rotting you from the inside. I’ll break every chain that’s wrapped around you, one by one, until you have nothing left to cling to butme. And then, only then, you’ll understand how intoxicating it is to surrender. To let go. To bemine.”
The tension in the room turned electric, every breath, every glance, a goddamn war between us. She didn’t answer, but shedidn’t have to. I could see it in her face—theconflict, thepull, the tiny part of her that wanted to step closer to the edge.
I’d drag her over it eventually. Willingly, or not.
CHASING PHANTOMS
Amelia
I sat in my office, the soft hum of the lights overhead providing a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. The familiar surroundings—my neatly organized desk, the framed degrees on the wall, and the inviting armchair in the corner—felt like a sanctuary, yet they could do little to quiet the storm within me.
Damien was long gone, but the weight of his presence lingered like a shadow. His words echoed in my thoughts, weaving in and out of my consciousness. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath against my ear, the way he had leaned in, whispering dark promises that sent chills down my spine. It was infuriating how his intense gaze could make me feel so exposed yet exhilarated at the same time.
As I attempted to focus on thestack of papers in front of me, my mind betrayed me, dragging me back to last night’s vivid dream. It had started as a nightmare, the terrifying memories of my past flooding back in vivid clarity—the cold metal bars, the suffocating darkness, the fluttering ofmoths. But then, in a surreal twist, it morphed into something entirely different. I could still feel the electricthrillcoursing through my body as I surrendered to the sensations he had stirred within me. The way his lips had claimed mine, the heat of his body against me, it all felt soreal, sointoxicating.
I shook my head, trying to dispel the images of him, of that moment where fear had given way to an overwhelming rush of pleasure. How could I allow myself to feel anything other than terror in relation to him? He wasdangerous, a man who thrived on obsession, yet I couldn’t deny the pull he had on me. The line between dread and desire had blurred in a way that left me questioning my own sanity.
Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes, replaying every detail of our encounter in my mind. The way he had looked at me with that unsettling mixture of hunger and satisfaction. It was as if he had stripped away my defenses, leaving me raw andexposed. I knew I should be repulsed, should want to putdistance between us, yet I found myself grappling with the unsettling truth: I was drawn to him, to the dark allure he represented.
I opened my eyes, my gaze drifting to the window where the sun spilled golden light into the room. It felt almost serene, a stark contrast to the chaos inside me. I needed to regain control, to remind myself of who I was and why I had chosen this path. I was a psychologist, dedicated to helping others navigate their traumas, not someone who succumbed to the very darkness I sought to understand.