Page 27 of Corrupt Shadows
Bile creeps up the back of my throat, finding kinship with the souls who were once incarcerated here, mistreated for no reason at all other than existing. Okay, maybe not for no reason. Many of their minds were dark, dangerous places, but don’t we all play in the shadows sometimes?
Most mental institutions of the human world used to help their patients with lobotomies, the mass graves outside an example of how well that worked. What these fucking “healthcare workers” didn’t realize is that true madness cannot be cured—only fed, to satisfy its deep hunger until oblivion shreds their awareness from the inside out.
I walk down the hallway at a leisurely pace, slipping my hands into my pockets and whistling a Halloween tune. Wooden wheelchairs stand sentinel on either side along the walls. Most of them are dilapidated and falling to pieces, but there are a couple that look fully functional, as if someone could sit at any moment and make use of them. My dick aches as I imagine throwing a naked Evie onto one and spreading her legs to drape over the armrests, then strapping her to it with my shadows.
The creepy little slut would love to be eaten and bound at my mercy to within an inch of her life.
I drag my hand across the discolored stain-like streaks that run down the walls beneath a gaping hole in the ceiling in the far corner of the room. Ash settles on a half-rotted desk and under a hole.
A glimpse of dark-brown hair catches my eye in the cloudy, spotted mirror through the open doorway of the bathroom. I tilt my head, watching through the mirror as Evie clambers onto the desk, then pulls herself upward, her legs briefly dangling before she climbs into the room above. Pieces of plaster crash to the floor beneath where she disappeared.
A growl builds in my throat. My fucking witch is lucky she didn’t break her godsdamn neck with a foolish stunt like that. They invented fucking stairs for a reason. I glare into the empty air through the hole as if it is responsible for my ire. If she dies, I’m trapped in this realm for good. I sigh deeply in resignation and follow the same path she took to the third floor.
Delight sparks through me as I take in a table that was used for electroshock therapy. The wall perpendicular to it is unfinished, more of a skeleton of the framework than a wall, likely to hold something heavier, such as a one-way mirror. My eyes roam over the space and land on a chipped and blackened mirrored surface. There is only a sliver of mirror left, but the small shard is enough. I can easily make out Evie’s distinct form sitting on the exam table, swinging her legs and humming a song I can’t name.
I stand directly in front of the shard, admiring her moment of peace. Warmth blooms in my chest as a tender emotion tries to swell within me. Goose bumps pebble my skin as horror awakens a brutal truth. I immediately shut it down and shove it back into the box where it belongs, then toss it into the trauma-wrecked corner of my mind, left to be forgotten among the dust bunnies I call pain.
I will not allow anyone to get close to me ever again. Trust got me locked up in this realm, though I shouldn’t be surprised that my brothers worked with those fucking witches to pick the perfect punishment for my crime of being born. They were always clever in the ways they enjoyed inflicting punishments.
The decades of yearning to be free blur in my memory. I blow out an exasperated breath, frustrated that I allowed myself a moment of weakness. Yet again, another self-imposed torture session in the books.
The soft rasp of cloth against skin draws my attention back to the witch. She pulls off each item in a strip tease she doesn’t know she’s giving. My breath catches in my throat as I fully take her in, her black lingerie clinging to her delicious curves.
Evie lies on the table, relaxing her body, and spreads her thighs wide. Her hands leisurely stroke her body, lightly tracing her curves. Her palms cup her heavy breasts over her black bra, the scalloped lace edging lightly pressing into her ivory skin as she squeezes. Her nipples pucker against the nearly translucent fabric when her hands slide away. The thin material hides her tits from me. Saliva pools in my mouth as I imagine biting those tempting buds, grasping them between my teeth and biting until I taste blood. For a moment, the need to do just that is almost unbearable.
What the actual fuck? What am I doing? I’m practically drooling over a witch I seek to ruin. I loathe every breath that whooshes through her lungs and wills her heart to keep beating.
As if she sensed my feeling of unease, she picks up the pace, foreplay over. Evie jerks her panties to the side. Her cunt glistens, beckoning me to come closer for a taste. I would destroy her pussy in the best way imaginable. She moans softly as her middle finger swirls against her clit, her hips rising sharply before her ass settles back on the table.
She continues her languid strokes as her other hand glides back up her belly up to her neck, then she grips her own throat. My little witch is a dirty girl. My cock drips for her, pre-cum soaking into the fabric of my pants as she applies more pressure and her breathing comes out in little gasps. It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, yet it fills with me with rage. The slutty thing craves to be handled roughly.
She continues to choke herself with one hand while playing with her soaked pussy. I practically smash my nose against the rippling barrier of the portal as I lean toward the sliver of mirror for a closer look.
Let the darkness out to play, little witch. It needs a release just like you do.
The muscles of her arm flex, her tattoo rippling as though alive as she thrusts her fingers between her lower lips and pumps them quickly. The hand she holds around her throat relaxes, then stretches above her head in search of something to anchor her body.
Her fingers lock onto a frayed strap fastened to the table beneath her, which was likely used to hold the patients immobile as their brains were fried. Evie’s hips buck wildly as she nears her climax. A light sheen of sweat coats her body from her efforts. She bites her lip, then whimpers husky, pleasure-soaked pleas. “Harder! Please, fill me with your cum.”
The witch grips the strap so tightly, her knuckles turn white.
“Split my pussy open with your thick, demon co—” Her words are cut off by her scream.
I watch the scene before me with rapt attention while refusing to give into my lust and touch myself. The tension building in my balls goes unnoticed as she squirms, causing one of her breasts to slip free from its lace confines. She surrenders to nirvana as the orgasm consumes her. She lets go of the strap and slips a finger into her greedy cunt alongside the others before sliding it back out and between her lips.
My eyes slam closed as a wave of euphoria spreads throughout my body. The witch’s thoughts of me go through her mind, spurring me into an intense orgasm as I witness one of the most erotic things of my life.
I lean my forehead against the wall, my body spent as cum erupts against the zipper of my pants. The jagged mirror shard bites into my flesh. Blood tickles my cheek where a rivulet of the crimson liquid trails from the fresh wound.
Reality comes back to me slowly. I push myself away from the wall and glare into the mirror.
“Fuck!” I yell, feeling disgusted with myself, my face morphing into an angry grimace.
I am not weak. She will not best me by putting her pretty cunt on display. Whether she realizes it yet, she is the definition of my desires. Her magic is made of the same blackened notes as mine. My lungs shudder and jerk within me, failing to regulate my breathing. I will never be free from her agonizing thrall.
I push my fingers into my hair and yank harshly on the shaggy strands, a fiery burn lancing my scalp as I continue to pull. The pain soothes the jagged edges of my unstable emotions. I loosen my hold and drop to my knees on the filthy, gouged floor.
Fuck this, and fuck her for making me feel this way. She will suffer for all the pain she has caused me, intentionally or not. Eventually, she’ll try to run when she realizes my plans for her, but by then, it’ll be too late. I hope she does run, so I can hunt her down and drag her back into the darkness with me.