Page 42 of Dark Therapy
I pressed closer, watching her, drinking in every second of her unraveling. Her body sagged beneath me, her final,weakattempts to fight nothing more than a ghost of resistance. She hit me one last time, a pitiful slap that only made my grin widen.
“Good girl,” I murmured, voice low and thick with satisfaction. “That’s it. Give in.”
When her eyes fluttered closed, when her body finally went limp, I let the mask drop. The silence that followed was intoxicating, a void filled only with the sound of my own breathing and the slow, steady rhythm of hers. I lingered above her, savoring the stillness, the victory, the fuckingpowerof having her completely at my mercy.
This was only the beginning.
BURIED ALIVE
Amelia
I jolted awake, the rough ground pressing into my back, a wave of confusion washing over me. As I blinked against the darkness, the chill seeped into my bones, stealing the warmth from my skin. My breath quickened, heart pounding against my ribcage as I struggled to gather my bearings. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay, the kind that sent a shiver down my spine.
As I slowly pushed myself upright, a chilling realization settled over me: I was surrounded bytombstones. They loomed like silent sentinels in the gloom, their inscriptions worn and faded, some almost illegible. This wasn’t just any graveyard—it was a forgotten one, overrun by nature, with weeds choking the stones and shadows stretching long in the moonlight.
Panicclawed at my throat as I took in my surroundings. I was wearing only a thin nightdress, the fabric clinging to my skin and offering little protection against the biting cold. The night wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, isolating me in this desolate place. I couldfeelthe weight of the darkness pressing in, and every instinct screamed at me to get up and run.
I rose unsteadily, my legs trembling beneath me as I scanned the area for any sign of life—or any way out. The grave markers stood eerily still, their jagged edges casting twisted shadows in the pale moonlight. A cold wind rustled through the leaves, carrying with it a faint whisper, almost like a warning.
“WhereamI?” I whispered into the silence, my voice sounding small and fragile. No answer came, only the echo of my words dissipating into the night. As I stumbled forward, the soft crunch of dried herbs beneath my bare feet sent a fresh wave of terror through me. Each step felt like an intrusion upon the resting souls around me.
Suddenly, a memory flickered to the surface of my mind—a distorted image of Damien’s face, twisted in that unsettling grin, the last thing I remembered before slipping into unconsciousness. The thought of him sent a shudder coursingthrough me, and I could almost hear his voice whispering my name, taunting me from the shadows.
I clutched my arms around myself, attempting to stave off the cold that seeped deeper with every passing moment. Fear pooled in my stomach, a growing dread that I was not alone. The darkness seemed to pulse around me, a living entity that thrived on myterror. Every rustle, every creak of the branches above sent my heart racing.
Just then, a flicker of movement caught my eye. I spun around, breath hitching in my throat.Was it just my imagination, or had something shifted among the tombstones?The air grew thick with tension, and I strained my ears to catch any sound, any hint of another presence.
I gasped as another rustle echoed through the graveyard, the sound pulling me in every direction. My heart raced, each beat pounding in my ears like a drum. I turned sharply, convinced I had seen a shadow slip between the tombstones, but the darkness played tricks on me. Laughter drifted on the wind, taunting and echoing around me, and every time I heard it, I flinched, my pulse quickening.
“Damien?” I called out, my voice barely rising above a whisper. My breath came in short gasps, and I felt the night air wrap around me, cold andsuffocating. I was trapped in this forgotten place, and he was somewhere close, lurking,watching.
The laughter morphed into something sinister, reverberating through the chilling air like acruelmelody. Each chuckle echoed through the darkness, and I spun around again. With every creak of the aged wood or shuffle of leaves, my heart leaped, and I took another step back, anxiety tightening in my chest.
Then, out of the shadows, he emerged—afigureclad in black, his hoodie drawn up, casting a shadow over his face. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the metallic skull mask he wore, glimmering faintly in the moonlight, with metal stitching crisscrossing over one eye. It was a grotesque sight, a haunting reminder of the twisted depths of his psyche. The mask twisted his features into something monstrous, making him seem even moreterrifying.
“Hello, Dr.Harper,” he said, his voice a low, chilling rasp that sent shivers down my spine. The distortion of his voice sent arush of adrenaline through my body, and instinctively, I stepped back, my heart racing faster with each passing second.
“What do you want from me?” I shouted, the tremor in my voice betraying my fear.
He stepped closer, gliding with an unsettling grace among the gravestones. “What doyouthink I want?” His laughter rang out, cruel and mocking, echoing off the ancient stones that surrounded us, as if the very graves held their breath in anticipation of what would come next.
The fear settled deeper into my bones as I took another step back, but there was nowhere to go. The ground was uneven beneath my feet, and I stumbled, regaining my balance just as he reached out a gloved hand, hisfingers curling in a beckoning motion.
“Come here,” he urged, the command laced with a twisted sense of intimacy, as if we were sharing a secret that only the two of usunderstood. “I just want toplay.”
I sprinted forward, adrenaline flooding my veins, each breath burning in my throat. But the graveyard felt alive, the darkness wrapping around me, and no matter how fast I ran, he was always just a heartbeat away, his laughter echoing in the night, weaving a chilling symphony ofterrorthat pulled me deeper into his twisted game.
Yet, beneath the terror, I couldfeelit—a sickeningexcitement, coiling deep within me, rising with every step. It waswrong,twisted, like I was willingly surrendering a part of myself to this nightmare he’d crafted. My stomach churned with disgust, hating myself for even feeling it.What was wrong with me?I should have been consumed only by terror, by the desperate need to escape. And yet… there it was, the thrill, an electricshiverthat wound through my limbs as his laughter echoed behind me, pulling me deeper into his dark, sadistic fantasy.
The world around me was a blur of gravestones and twisted shadows, my vision clouded by fear and the relentless pounding in my head. I stumbled, nearly falling, my knees scraping the cold, hard ground, and a sob escaped my lips as I forced myself up again, pushing forward. But with each step, the thrill grew, a sick part of me responding to the chase, to his relentlesspresence behind me, a part of me that feltalivein ways I could barely understand, even as it terrified me.
The night air felt heavy, pressing against my skin like a suffocating shroud, and I realized I was trapped in his game, wrapped up in the twisted web he’d spun around me. My breaths came in ragged gasps, my mind torn between the primal urge to escape and the dark pull that he seemed to have over me, as if he’d awakenedsomethinginside me that I hadn’t known existed—or maybe something I’d buried long ago, something I never wanted to see.
He was close, his footsteps echoing, steady and patient, a predator with no need to rush. I glanced over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of his figure moving through the darkness, relentless, his silhouette merging with the night. “Come now, Millie,” he taunted. “Don’t you see? You’reexactlywhere you belong.”
A chill ran down my spine, and my pulse quickened, fear and something far darker mixing in a way that made me feel like I was losing myself, slipping further into his twisted reality. Ihatedit—I hatedhim. And yet, as much as I wanted to fight it,the throbbing between my legs made it clear how helpless I was. I was captivated by the very thing that would destroy me.
My legs burned, but I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t. With each passing moment, I felt myself weakening, my defenses crumbling, his words seeping into my mind, filling me with a dread I couldn’t shake. And I realized, with a shiver of horror, that it wasn’t just my body he was after. He was tearing down every wall, every layer I’d built around myself, drawing me into his nightmare until I couldn’t tell where his darkness ended and mine began.