8 || Drunken Devil

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“I got you, moonlight, you're my starlight
I need you all night, c'mon dance with me.
I'm levitating.”


NATALIA


The sunlight, warm and unwelcome, intruded through the curtains, dragging me back from the edge of a restless sleep. I groaned, rubbing my eyes in a futile attempt to shake off the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin. When I finally opened them, the unfamiliar surroundings hit me like a tidal wave. Panic seized my chest as I realized I wasn't in my own bed, in my own home. Then, like a cruel joke, the memories from last night came rushing back-I had been kidnapped. My breath hitched, and I could feel the tears threatening to spill, but I bit them back. There was no room for weakness now.

I sat up slowly, my body heavy with the weight of despair. Last night had been a descent into a nightmare I couldn't escape. My eyes were swollen from crying, my throat raw from the sobs that had wracked my body until there was nothing left but a hollow ache.

A maid had come with food last night, but I hadn't opened it. I didn't have the strength or the will to care about anything as mundane as food. My stomach churned with regret now. Days without eating had left me weak, dizzy, and desperately hungry, but the emotional turmoil inside me was far worse. I was a mess of confusion, anger, and sadness, each emotion battling for control.

I forced myself out of bed, feeling every ounce of my body's fatigue as I stood on trembling legs. The bed was absurdly comfortable, a cruel contrast to the agony I was in. My head pounded with a dull, unrelenting pain, and my vision blurred as the room spun around me.

I staggered towards the window, every step a struggle. When I finally reached it and looked outside, my heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach. Dense, foreboding woods stretched out as far as I could see, a dark, impenetrable fortress of trees that seemed to close in around me. My breath caught in my throat as the reality of my situation settled over me like a suffocating blanket.

The tattooed bastard who had taken me hadn't just kidnapped me— he'd trapped me in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but wilderness. It was as if I'd been dropped into a different world, one where escape was not an option.

My eyes roamed the landscape, taking in the details with a growing sense of dread. This was no ordinary house— it was a fortress, ancient yet eerily modern, with walls that seemed to pulse with an unseen malevolence. The architecture was a blend of the old and the new, the past and the present, creating a place that felt timeless and terrifying all at once. The sheer scale of the place was overwhelming, each stone and brick imbued with a sense of power that was almost palpable.

Tears threatened to spill again, but I fought them back with every ounce of strength I had left. Crying wouldn't help me now— it would only make me weaker, more vulnerable. I needed to stay strong, to find a way out of this nightmare before it consumed me completely. Desperate for a distraction, I turned and made my way to the bathroom, my steps slow and unsteady.

The bathroom was a masterpiece of luxury, its cream-colored tiles and sleek, modern fixtures creating an almost surreal sense of comfort. A large window, draped with heavy curtains, sat beside a massive bathtub that looked as though it had never been used. Everything was spotless, the kind of pristine that spoke of wealth and power far beyond anything I had ever known. It was the bathroom of someone who had everything, someone who didn't belong to the same world I came from.

I stepped into the shower, letting the icy water crash over me, hoping it would wash away the despair that clung to me like a second skin. The cold bit into my flesh, shocking my senses awake and dulling the throbbing pain in my head. When I finally stepped out, wrapping myself in a soft, oversized towel, I moved on autopilot— brushing my teeth, tackling the tangled mess that was my hair. It took ages to detangle the knots, the brush tugging painfully as I worked oil into the strands. It was as if my hair, like everything else in my life, was coming apart at the seams.

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