DEVIL:
In the recesses of my dark empire, I sit alone in my dimly lit chamber, conducting a twisted symphony only I can truly appreciate. The chessboard before me, a battlefield of black and white, serves as the canvas for my solitary conquest. I move the pieces, orchestrating a sinister dance of strategy and deceit that unfolds in the shadows.
As I place my king, queen, and knights, a sinister dance of strategy and deceit unfolds. The ebony queen, a regal figure in the cruel game, captures my attention. Her azure eyes, deep as sapphires, gleam with an enigmatic depth within. In this ruthless realm of chess and deceit, she is the embodiment of grace, her every move calculated, her every step poised. She reigns over the board, commanding attention with her indomitable spirit.
Anastasia, my queen, your essence seeps into every crevice of my world, a chilling touch that mirrors the frost in my soul.
I lean closer, my voice a haunting whisper, and speak to her with reverence. "In this realm of shadows, you shall forever be my queen."
Running my fingers over the queen's smooth, cool surface, I relish the chilling touch, a hunger that knows no bounds, consumed by this fascination with her.
Last night was just a little lesson, you know? Someone dared to touch what belonged to me. Had to show 'em they couldn't. Lucky for the guy, I didn't burn him along with the car. However, I trust that by now, my Estrellita has learned her lesson well: no one touches her except for me.
My little Estrellita will learn that no matter who she likes now, she will end up falling for me. And I am going to do everything in my power to make sure she does. No other man shall ever touch her, look at her, or even breathe in her direction.
I never used to be the jealous type before Ana. She makes me do all the crazy things.
But I am more than okay with doing so. She is my queen, and I shall bow down to her.
I looked up at the wall in front of me, with a few pictures hanging on them. Two of them have been labelled with a red marker, the third one is about to be eliminated. I have a mission to complete. Revenge to take. I will bathe this town with blood and haunt my targets like a Devil on its prey.
But it is going to take a long time. A dance of death. And my heart aches, thinking no matter what, I have to remain in the shadows of my precious little Estrellita until then. So, until the day I rightfully claim her as mine, she will reside only in the shadows that I cast.
My obsidian eyes fixate on the portraits that adorn the chamber's other walls, each one a testament to my fixation. There, Anastasia's image is frozen in time, a beacon of light I can never truly possess. With reverence, I acknowledge her presence in this realm of darkness. "You are the singular source of light in my eternal night."
I inhaled deeply, clutching the purple T-shirt Anastasia had worn the night before. I had taken it with me on my last visit. The scent enveloped me—sweet and sadistic, an intoxicating mix that sent shivers down my spine. I revelled in the thought of losing myself in her as if finding a home within her madness. She was undeniably mine, destined to be consumed by the darkness I wield.
Day by day, the hold on my dam was weakening. Every night, my visit to my queen only made me greedier.
She lay there in absolute innocence, and all I wanted was to bathe her in my cum of desire. I watched her, dreaming about me. She called it a nightmare, but I knew that my Estrellita was a wild, wild girl. She hadn't discovered her potential yet.
Some day I am going to teach her.
Although I would be lying if I said I hadn't climaxed right there last night when I saw her in that white, see-through nightdress. She lay like a cute koala, yet she looked like a woman fueling my desires.
Her perfect, round tits on display nearly drove me to claim her right then and there.
A wave of jealousy washed over me, and I made a silent vow. No other man would ever have the pleasure of witnessing this. She is mine, and everything that belongs to her is mine too.
I knew she had been dreaming about me. I watched her move in dreams, her shorts becoming damp with arousal. I couldn't resist the urge to release my throbbing cock, taking it in my hand and running up and down. I closed my eyes, pre-cum coating the tip as the friction overwhelmed me. Succumbing to the sensation, I let my imagination drift to thoughts of her sweet, tight pussy, bringing myself to climax right then and there.
I sighed. Almost ripped that panty and tasted that sweet honey. But I resisted. I held back. Now was not the time, I told myself. But, it wasn't an easy task.
All I wanted was to part her legs as I watched her get wet. I wondered if she would scream in pleasure if I put my fingers in her juicy pussy. Or would she wake up and beg me to taste her?
I closed my eyes, inhaling her used T-shirt as I sighed. My cock has hardened again under my zipper, begging for another release. But I held on.
She was going to be the end of me.
****
In my private sanctuary, these frozen images act as nostalgic relics, each one capturing a moment of Anastasia, the subject of my profound fascination.
The "Brown's Ball," a photograph from a gala in her family's honour, reveals the elegance accompanying her lineage. Her striking sapphire-blue eyes, a reflection of her timeless charm, captivate in this moment of grace. Her smile, gentle as a whisper, graces the image with warmth, but it's a beauty I can only admire from afar.
"Winter Smile" is a candid snapshot of her on a crisp winter day, her breath forming delicate puffs in the chilly air. The radiance of her smile, undeterred by the cold, shines like a precious gem. This smile—my longing to be its cause remains forever beyond my reach.
In her "High School Graduation" portrait, she stands poised, her cap and gown symbolizing accomplishment and ambition. Peering into the camera with a determined look, it's a testament to her unwavering spirit. It is a moment of pride for her, and secretly, it is my pride too, to have these glimpses into her world.
The "First Day at Preston" is a snapshot of her venture into the unknown, a brave new chapter in her life. Her youthful enthusiasm is infectious, and I can't help but feel a part of her journey, even if from the shadows. It's a glimpse into her innocence and curiosity, qualities I find enchanting.
As I gaze at these images, they serve as both a poignant reminder and a sanctuary. They capture the essence of Anastasia, the woman I can never truly possess, yet they offer solace in her presence within my dark world. In this chamber, they are my only connection to the light that constantly eludes me. Soon, however, I shall bridge that distance and make her mine.
Soon.
I run my finger along the frame of her picture, closing my eyes, savouring the illusion that she's really here.
"These moments," I murmur, "they tease me. Anastasia, you're too beautiful to be marred, too exquisite to be tainted." My voice trembles with longing. "But here, in my secret space, I rebuild you in my mind, piece by piece, preserving you in my own beautiful way."
The room feels smaller, the portraits more suffocating, as the urge to possess her grows stronger with each passing day.
"Every day," I continue, "as I look at your pictures, I yearn for that moment when we'll stand face to face, so close. So close." My words are a desperate plea to a distant deity. I walked through the room. From pictures to pictures.
"The thought consumes me, the desire burns like an eternal flame." The intensity of my obsession becomes palpable, shrouding the room in an unsettling aura. "I'll keep you safe, Anastasia, until that day, and then, I will make you mine." The chamber echoes my promises, sealing them into the very walls that imprison me. "And then, no matter how much you run, you will always find a way back to me."
"The world will witness the power of my obsession for you. We will build a kingdom, where I will wield a shield and a blade. I will shield you while you hold the blade."
This room, an altar to my desires, reverberates with the weight of my obsession. I whisper secrets to the shadows and promises to the night, embracing the treacherous game I've chosen. It has no rules, no boundaries, and certainly no remorse. In the darkness, my obsession with Anastasia is a malevolent force, and I am its puppeteer.
****
While I continued to admire my queen in my mind as I walked into the warehouse, muffled screams continued to disturb me. I frowned in annoyance; I do not like people disturbing me when I am having my moment with my Estrellita.
I looked up and found the half-burned guy hanging by his hand from the ceiling, trying to wiggle and free himself. The shift in lighting must have awakened him. The small, decrepit room, with a broken ceiling and the overpowering stench of human discharge, initially made me cringe. However, the man tied up before me—his eyes grew wide with terror as they adjusted to the dimly lit surroundings.
I had ensured that my presence was barely noticeable, cloaking myself in the shadows as I loomed over the captive.
"Rohan Drivedi," I began, taunting him. "The renowned star employee of The Alpha Group, now severed from the world."
"Who-who are you?" he asked in a shaky voice. His face lost its beauty, skin crinkled from immense burning, with a few dots of sweat on his forehead.
I wanted to laugh at his misplaced confidence that I would answer any of his questions. I had made sure he hung from the ceiling, his hands bound, his body marred and scarred from a recent accident.
"Who am I?" I taunted. "I am your death, Rohan. You do know me, don't you?"
Rohan swallowed hard, fear evident in his quivering voice. "I... What do you want?"
Good boy. At least he knows when to bow down.
I leaned in, my dark eyes glittering with a dangerous gleam. "You don't need to know what I want, Rohan. You just need to answer my questions."
Rohan's eyes widened. His heart raced as he realized the gravity of his predicament. He had never encountered anyone like me before, and the prospect of what lay ahead sent shivers down his spine. My knife glinted from the light that I held right before his chin.
But no matter what, he knows he cannot escape me without answers.
"What do you know about 'The Alpha Group'?" I inquired, with a slow voice.
Rohan's brows furrowed as he searched his memory. "I... I was just an employee. I don't know much. I swear."
My fingers traced a chilling path along the surface of a mahogany knife, the sharpness stung a little when it drew a little blood. I spoke with a calm intensity that was far more unnerving than any threat. "Tell me what you do know."
"I..." Rohan stammered, struggling to find his words. "The company has four partners. They're scattered across the country. James, he's the main one; he handles most of the work. The other three assist him with security, shipments, and... other things."
My eyes narrowed as I sought to uncover more. "And what about MacLaren? What's their relation to the company?"
Rohan licked his dry lips, fear coursing through him. "Jules works for them, but not for the direct company. She takes care of the transportation part. That's all I know."
I absorbed the information, every detail filed away in my vast repository of knowledge. I had expected a lack of answers from Rohan, and yet, the glimpse of insight into 'The Alpha Group' intrigued me. My knife danced over his face once more, and he gulped as if contemplating my next move.
"And what about the shipments?" I asked, my voice cold and relentless.
He gulped, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "I was given charge of the shipments. But the boss..." His voice trailed off, fear gripping his heart. "He never showed his face, never made an appearance. It's always been his secretary who communicates."
"Were shipments scheduled for next month again?" I inquired, my tone becoming more ominous.
"No," he stammered, his voice trembling. "They've changed the timing. They got wind of your pursuit, so they've altered the dates."
My knife pressed gently against his skin, a silent threat. "When?" I demanded.
"I don't know... I don't know..." he replied in primal fear, his mind racing in desperation. I sighed, finally withdrawing my blade.
"And what about the envelope? What was in it?"
"I-" His voice quivered. " I had stolen a few company documents for a party."
"Who?"
"I-I don't know. We always communicated through the call. His secretary had only communicated throughout. He said if I could bring the papers, he would get me to the boss and ensure me a larger share in the company."
I withdrew my knife, and I watched him sigh in relief.
"You've been quite helpful," I mused, my tone unsettlingly calm. "But now, Rohan, there's a matter of consequence."
Rohan's eyes widened, and he squirmed in his restraints, his voice trembling with despair. "What... What do you mean?"
I withdrew a sleek, silver lighter from my pocket, its elegant design contrasting starkly with the sinister aura of the room. I flicked it open, igniting a flickering flame. Rohan's gaze fixated on the fire, primal fear reflected in his eyes.
"Please," Rohan pleaded, tears glistening in the dim light. "I've told you everything I know. You don't have to do this."
I leaned closer, the flame dancing perilously close to Rohan's face. "It's not about what I want, Rohan. It's about what I must do."
I ignited the lighter, and Rohan's scream pierced the room as the flame inched closer to him, a desperate plea for mercy and escape. I watched with an unflinching gaze, the dance of the flames mirroring the chaos that played out in Rohan's mind.
Hours later, as the agonizing ordeal reached its crescendo, I extinguished the flame, leaving Rohan trembling and gasping for air. "Remember this, Rohan. The flames have a way of purging one's soul, of stripping away the facade to reveal the truth."
With that, I turned and left the captive alone in the dark room. Rohan, his body and spirit broken, found solace in the cold, unforgiving darkness, his mind forever scarred by the encounter with the devil from the shadows.