Hell is Lost | Book I

Chapter 9

"You shouldn't be touching anything like that," Agnes snatched the letters from my hands and closed the cupboard. Her face seemed clearly exasperated by my action.

"I..I was just," before I could finish my sentence, Agnes cut me short and started, "I told you..you should not touch these things without my permission."

She was walking out of the room with that bundle in her hand, when I stopped her and asked, "Agnes, please, tell me what is it?" Even though I knew they were Mrs Blackwood's letters, I just wanted to see if Agnes knew about them.

She turned round and looked at me with disappointed eyes. "I don't know what these papers are. I just know that Mr. Blackwood had told me to keep these someplace safe, where Damian couldn't see them."

But they were his mother's letters? I wondered. Why would his father ask Agnes to hide them?

"Now, it's getting late. I have to go and prepare dinner," she hurried away to the door, but I interrupted her again. "Agnes, one more thing..why are these perfume bottles named Selene?"

She paused and took a deep breath. "Selene was Damian's mother. When he took over Mr. Blackwood's perfume company, he launched a new fragrance-- and named it after his mother," Agnes' voice was filled with pain as she talked about Mrs Blackwood. "You ask a lot of questions!" She left and slammed the door behind her. "Master is coming back tonight!" her faint voice screamed in the distance.

There were so many mysteries lurking in the deep crevices of this mansion. So many secrets...so much darkness.

"But why should I care?" My inner voice cried. "I don't care about this family, I don't care about this animal, Damian!"

I jumped onto the bed and buried my face into the pillow.

Damian was coming back. My heart raced as that gnawing terror resurfaced. I kept burying my face deeper in the pillow, like I was trying to hide from something. The wounds of his last punishment had not even healed yet, the marks were still fresh, the pain that he had inflicted was still there--and he was coming back.

And god knew what he was going to do to me.

Night fell quickly and I reluctantly put on the dark blue dress, as Agnes asked me to wear something nice and come down for dinner. For it was Damian's "Special request" to have tonight's dinner with me.

I brushed my hair against my will and looked at myself in the mirror. I hated it! The long dark blue dress was his favourite as Agnes had told me one day that "All the dresses in your closet are Damian's favourite."

I felt disgusted that I was wearing the clothes that he had chosen for me. Why was I doing this? Why was I even here?

The overwhelming feeling to rip the dress off my body and throw it away was getting stronger as I stared myself down in the mirror.

Wiping off the incoming tears, I got out of the room and walked towards the stairs.

Nervousness took over me as I climbed down the steps. "Oh, you are here finally," Agnes greeted me and asked me to go to the dining room, where Damian was waiting for me.

I entered the dining room and he was standing across the room, near the window, smoking a cigarette, with his back against me. The sight of him dressed in all black like that brought that agonising night's memory back. The vision of him hitting me with a whip returned, and I nervously started balling my fingers in a fist.

"I can't do this," I told myself.

My eyes were glued to the floor when he approached me and started, "You look beautiful in this dress." He leaned against the table in the centre, where he obtained a vantage point at me and stared me down.

I barely moved and ignored his compliment. I could feel him looking me up and down as I anxiously stood before him.

"How have you been?" he asked and took a puff of his cigarette. "It's been so many weeks since I've seen you," his voice deeper than usual.

I could not find a way to properly respond to his questions as I feared him. So I just stood there like a statue.

But he wasn't happy with my lack of energy, and advanced towards me. I backed off-- but there was a wall behind me. He positioned himself just above me, leaving only few inches between us. I caught a whiff of his strong cologne, as his tall body towered over me.

He flicked his cigarette away and put his arms on the wall--trapping me inside them like a bird. "What's your problem, eh?" he snapped.

I shivered like a leaf but kept my eyes on the ground. For I didn't wanna face him.

I had realised that I had angered him by now, and there was no returning from there. I could only stand there and await my fate.

He cupped my chin and lifted my face, forcing me to face him. "Look at me when I am talking to you!" he thundered.

My heart beat furiously when his body got closer, almost pressing against my breast.

I gazed at him with pleading eyes.

He was burning with rage as his eyes bore deep into me--penetrating me like an arrow. There was something in his dark, grey eyes that made me feel uncomfortable. It was like he could see right inside me, and I felt he was slowly undressing me with his intense gaze-- I felt naked, and helpless.

He had one of those eyes that looked full of innocence--but once rage reigns over them, they turn into fiery orbs from hell.

"You keep testing my patience over and over," he blurted out and violently pinned my hands above my head--causing me to let out a whimper. "I can hurt you so bad... you have no idea."

I could not explain the pain I felt as his big hands pressed my wrists against that hard wall, while he stared into my eyes and watched me struggle.

"I..I was just," I stuttered and tried to finish my sentence, when he suddenly released my hands, letting them fall abruptly. "DON'T SPEAK," he cautioned.

His gaze slid down my arms, then travelled down to my wrists. His face changed as he continued to notice the marks on my body. In a minute he pulled away and took a step back.

It seemed like he was realizing that he had gone too far that night.

I bit my lip as I rubbed my hands. I furtively glanced at Damian. He was taking a cigarette out of his pocket. He looked flustered as he frantically searched the pocket of his black pants for a lighter--finally it was found.

Silver smoke rose to the air as he exhaled it, while his fingers ran through his hair and slowly walked towards the window, stared intently at the dark night outside.

I just stood there and waited for him to say something. I had never seen him like this. Why did he stop when he noticed the bruises on my wrists? "Did he feel bad for me?" I thought.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the window and without looking at me at all, he spoke, "Go upstairs. Agnes will bring you dinner in your room."

I gulped down a sob and started walking towards the staircase, still shaken up by what had just happened. I kept my head down and walked. Before leaving the room, I snuck a glance over my shoulder to look at Damian.

He was still standing there.