Demon's House

Home My Ass

Why were emotions so bipolar? It was like every time I said I was numb something had to disagree and make its point known. I stared at the note with my jaw on the floor for a moment. My fingers retreated ever so slightly, and the rest of me soon followed. Who was this... this whoever to tell me what my home is? Seriously, I'd have loved to know. Some stranger had no right telling me where to find home. My mind was made up all over again. I was getting out. There was still one door left, and I'd still not scanned the last hall for side doors and halls.

Giving the kink table a wide berth, I walked to the last door I'd come out of. I was running out of options. I also would've liked to release some of my pent up emotions. My feet spun my around dramatically and put my hands on my hips. A deep breath in, and I was ready to rage. "Who the fuck you think you are telling me what the fuck home is?! You don't know jack shit about me! The last thing you know is where my home is! We've never even come across each other before now. And we still haven't even met!"

My arms raised for emphasis, and I decided those words were enough. The cut I'd made earlier was still bleeding. Damn. Back when self-harming was normal for me, I was too scared to get caught and sent to a hospital to go too deep. All I left were mere scratches, and they stopped bleeding before too long. Some of them only bled enough to leave a scab. This cut actually dripped down my arm. As a small drop fell to the floor, I realized how much the cut was stinging. I took the time to do a short body check, and I was actually in a bit of pain. My ankle still hurt from injuring it twice earlier, my chest hurt from all the anxiety, my head hurt from everything, and now my arm was really starting to draw my attention to it. I was almost tempted to add to it, make it a little more worth it, and that reminded me I still had a job to do.

I held my uninjured hand over my cut, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. More carefully than earlier, I turned to the door and stared down the empty white hall. It was difficult for me to focus with so many moving pieces spinning in my head, but at least my anxiety and other useless emotions had calmed down. "Wait. Shit," I didn't realize I'd jinxed myself again until after the words resonated through my mind.

That's when my fate really started to tie together. I heard his voice: "Aw, you poor... precious submissive."

The deep, husky voice froze me in place. I hadn't noticed my previous erection was gone until I felt it return. That voice held so much power and dominance, and it was deeper than I imagined anyone's dick could go up me. It vibrated in my chest, and if I wasn't paralyzed in fear and shock, I might not've been able to hold the moan in my throat. My Adam's apple bobbed as a swallowed hard. Why was my mouth suddenly so dry? Come to think of it, that captivating voice couldn't have belonged to some creepy, old man. Then again, I was really starting to think the house owner wasn't human. I couldn't focus on that thought too long, however, or I really would've been frozen. I couldn't focus on that voice either. It wouldn't matter anymore after I escaped. And a sleepover at Jay's didn't sound too bad; I'd wreck if I tried to drive in such a state. It's not like I had anyone waiting for me anyway.

With those thoughts in the laser focus of my mind, I walked back down the hallway and attentively searched every inch of the blank, bland, white wall. Of course, I ended up back in the initial room empty-handed. But I still had that fifth door. I wasn't out of options yet.

As I walked up with a calm sense of urgency, it slowly registered that the knives and blood were cleaned off the floor, though the sticky note was untouched. My hand and arm were still soaked. I wished for a second the guy could come clean that up, too, until I realized that meant he had to touch me. That thought made me a little uncomfortable. But the terato pictures were trying so hard to surface. It was really hard to keep myself from considering the possibility. My erection probably wasn't going down anytime soon... I groaned and tried to focus on maybe having a plan for the first time since coming here. Unfortunately, this place was too much of a mystery. All I really had was that I needed to search past the last door, and if I didn't find anything at first, I'd go down the hall again. If that still wasn't fruitful, I guess I'd just search the whole house again. Though at that point, I'd probably just lie down and die for a while.

Speaking of dying, I was going to if I didn't get any food and other sustenance. My stomach was thinking about cramping, and I was starting to feel a little weak. The rest of this "mission" was gonna have to go by quickly. I looked down at my hand. I really didn't want to get blood all over the door, but I imagined mystery man would just clean it up somehow while I was in his mind fuck maze. Still, it felt wrong, so I put my hoodie sleeve over my hand and opened the door that way.

I was surprised to see that this hallway didn't follow the rules of the rest of the building. It was a mixture of the two styles I'd seen so far. The walls were lightly colored and lit with candles in fancy holders. I hadn't thought about where the other lighting came from, now that I thought about it; it was just there. Huh. Other than the candles, the walls were lined with thick, dark draperies like the bedroom. Not only was this door the only one left, the hall was unique to the rest of the building. This had to lead somewhere else.