Sanja

CHAPTER NINE - Something makes sense

I scrambled off of him as fast as I could. My breaths were shallow and painful, but the part of me that hurt the most was all the resentment I held toward him. Deep down, somewhere near my stomach, was a ball of fire, puffing and spluttering out pure rage. Its thoughts were traveling up to my brain and telling me to hurt him, to make him pay for my suffering.

Yet I lay there, stock-still, just gaping at his eyes. They held so much fear, and that on its own was terrifying. He was scared of me? The monster was scared of me?

"What-" I shifted on my knees until I was nearly standing up. Even my own voice appeared foreign—it was deeper and more steady. Something weird was slowly engulfing me, and I didn't like it. "What the hell."

My chest started pumping rapidly as I looked around, noticing the destruction our quarrels had made. I felt powerful, and an urge to break something etched its own way into my system—I suddenly needed to cause destruction. My attempt to stop it was futile because I pounced on him, not even knowing why.

I landed right on top of him and dug my nails into his arms, hoping he'd draw blood. Sure enough, along with his painful growl, reddish liquid came pouring out of his skin and all over my fingers. But the moment of satisfaction was short-lived because he jabbed me in the chest, and that sent me flying a couple of yards back.

I had barely regained my standing position when an unbelievably strong figure launched at me, knocking me to the ground. My head collapsed onto the dirt and a dark pain stretched through my forehead, incapacitating me to put up a fight.

"Look at you." He said through heavy breaths as he approached me. "What kind of human are you?" He stopped mere inches from my head, his eyes scanning over every part of my new body. The truth was I didn't even have an answer to his question. What kind of human was I? Certainly not the normal type.

"You're so different from the last time I saw you." He inched closer to me and kneeled down. I rolled my eyes, mocking his statement.

"Are you not liking my transformation?" I asked, amusement lacing my voice, not even knowing why I had a sudden urge to be humorous. But as the lust in his eyes stared me down, my playful mood disappeared and was replaced with an unhealthy amount of fear. Reality hit me hard as events from this past month came back to me and started to make less and less sense. I didn't even have a definition of what was or wasn't real anymore. Was I dreaming? Do dreams even last this long?

"You're fascinating, actually." He inhaled, almost like he was taking in my new scent. My stomach churned as his eyes trailed from my lips to my chest, and placed his hand over my chest. I could feel my heart beating against his hand. He was listening to my heartbeat. Something in me once again erupted.

I began to shake and I randomly let out a cry, then my hands started trembling. Panic settled in me like a birthday candle, and once the flame made contact with my wick, I burst. I started hyperventilating—I couldn't control my rapid breathing. Millions of thoughts like the number of stars in the sky haunted me. They took on small whispers, and all of them at once started yelling at me. They reminded me of everything that was happening to me at that instance. I felt nauseated and stood up, completely ignoring him.

He growled, grabbing hold of my arm. He also stood up.

"What's going on?" I whined as a few tears drenched my cheeks. "Where am I? Who am I? Why can't I remember anything! Why am I so emotional? Am I dreaming? Am I dead?"

An arm suddenly wrapped itself around my neck and bashed my head into a firm chest. It partially hurt me, but I was too bothered by his choice of action. "You ask too many questions." His words pained me, but as he kept me pressed against him, and as his fingers rubbed against the back of my neck, my rigid body slowly started to loosen. My tears eventually dried, and I was able to regain a consistent breathing rhythm.

I didn't need to speak to make him understand the hundreds of emotions coursing through me. I was confused, frustrated, and tired, I felt stupid and reckless—I wanted answers.

As I stood there, pressed against his chest, I could feel the rhythm of his calm heartbeat. It pounded once every second, and its slow pace brought peace to my buzzing head. For the first time in a while, I felt serene.

"Why did you come after me?"

Something akin to a chuckle escaped his mouth. "You don't throw away a toy after only using it once, Sanja."

My stomach dropped and I backed away from him. "No. You can't mess with me like this! I'm not a toy, or a blood bag, or whatever you intend to use me as! I need to get back to my family! Ask the traffickers for your money back, or I'll call the cops!"

His eyes flashed, and a mask fell over his face, stiffening it. "I'm glad you think you can call the cops on me. Now come with me before you go insane again."

The same process that I had gone through nearly five minutes ago was starting over, and the same emotions were recurring. And now I felt like a broken record, playing the same song on repeat. "I'm not insane-"

Sanja. No.

"Shut up!"

Stop.

"You can't tell me what to-"

Leave him alone.

"I hate you!"

Calm down.

"What is happening to me!"

I was on the edge of the knife, close to my breaking point, seconds away from bursting again, when he said something that chilled me to the core. Something that I would never forget. And for the first time in a while, something made sense.

I was changing. I was turning into a monster.