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❌❌huge trigger warning. Please I wrote this to be twisted and it is TWISTED. TWISTED mahn. So please if you are triggered by:
Torture
Abuse
Mental illness
Cruelty
Torture❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌
Please move on to or wait for the next chapter. The story will still make sense. ❌❌

Otherwise, enjoy!



The following day the maid lady sat at the the edge of my bed. In a thick accent she said, "are you okay?"

Stupid question I know but understandable. Admittedly I hadn't moved a muscle on this bed since I'd gotten into it. I was on my side just staring at my hands. Aka one of the few places on my body currently not marred with gashes.

"I... I–um I hate my body." I didn't feel like crying anymore but hey shit happens sometimes, "I've seen it fat, I've seen it thin, I've seen it covered in dark skin I've seen it covered in light.

"I've seen it slouched and embarrassed, I've seen it stand straight and tall. I've seen it clothed..." I closed my eyes because the tears made them feel scratchy and dry, "I've seen it naked. I've never seen this and… I'm afraid that when I do– when I do, I'll somehow find a way to hate myself more."

I sobbed once. The only sound I'd let escape during this tear session, "and I can't. I can't do it. I just… can't."

She didn't answer immediately, but she said, "I can't help you escape. This place… it is a fortress and if I helped you I would just get us both in trouble."

I sniffled and opened my eyes again to the sight of my hands, "please… go away."

She hesitated some more but did not move, "senior Capistrano has given me orders to make sure you eat...

"Seniora you have already missed breakfast and lunch. And if you you don't eat, he will come back and force you. He will punish me."

She sounded scared and I was too, "fine."

She moved quickly, her hands slipped beneath me and I was lifted even though I could lift myself. She put a pillow behind me and grabbed the tray that was laying on the vanity, placing it neatly on my lap.

"Do you need help?"

I swallowed the ball in my throat, "no." My arms had dozens of thin cuts crisscrossing on top of each other.  There were brusses and belt shaped welts to join also.

I couldn't explain what I felt when I saw them but it wasn't hate. It was just painful.

I lifted the fork and proceeded to eat and tasted nothing registered nothing.


                                 |§|

Somehow it wasn't enough. The screaming and the pain. The endless hours of execution and punishment. None if it could quench the rage in my bones. None of it could satiate me.

I was covered in the blood of the man she was willing to allow to touch her. Yet it couldn't erase the need to be covered in hers instead. My demons were restless, as was my mind but I kept it occupied with torture.

I left the safe house where I had placed Orian and stopped punishing her when I had received a text saying her... Her lover. Was found. However I was not nearly done punishing her. Not nearly finished.

I tightened my hold on my skinning knife and tried to allow the man's screaming to centre me. I had to have absolute concentration. Skinning a man alive was hard enough as it was.

No need to complicate things further by loosing concentration. One more second …and… I.… Was… done. Many hours later mind you but... Done.

I lifted the man's skin to examine my work. He was a little on the tall side but he would do, "Serious.

"Yes sir," my right hand man said to me. His usual cheery voice gone, I'll admit my mood had a way of contaminating everyone around me, "freeze his organs for me.  I'll decide what to do with them."

With that I neatly folded the skin and packed it away. Time to head back to the safe house.


                                 |§|



When I woke up this time it was Gabriel on my bed. I scrabbled up in fear and back as far away as possible. He wore the same look he had when he'd found me at the club.

"Gabriel."

He just started at me for the longest time. His gaze was so empty, "come eat."

Then he left. Hesitation forced my body to decide what was more scary: what he would do if I came or what he would do if I didn't. In the end I went to the kitchen and sat with him.

We ate in silence and I was about ready to pee my pants when the meal was over and he just stared at me. I went to speak but before I could he placed a briefcase on the table.

"I brought you something." I won't lie I really, really didn't want to open the case but I did anyways too scared to upset him or ask any questions.

The smell of death hit me intsantly and I screamed and backed away. 

"You're sick! You're sick," he came around the table and towards me and against every cell in my body I froze. He took something from the case filled with skin and I started crying and begging. He was deaf to it all.

"You are going to wear this," I tried to interrupt but he lifted a hand like he'd slap me so I went silent like the dead, "and you will not remove it until I give you permission to remove it."

He put it on my face and the smell was putrid. I can't tell you what happened next because I can never bring myself to relive it. I stayed in that hell for a week and then I went home. And I was never the same.

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