Page 12 of Signed in Blood

Lilith

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Stark naked, I can barely breathe as I rise up. My eyelids are so heavy. Everything is heavy.

My head swarms with visions that paralyze me. My heart hammers. It can’t be real. The nightmare. It can’t be more than terrors in my sleep, and yet… My legs and arms are sore as I sit up from the hard ground. My arms tremble beneath my weight. My vision is blurry and there’s a ringing in my ears as my eyes adjust to the darkness among me.

I see nothing but red at first and then my eyes adjust. Ever so slowly. I can barely breathe from the heat I feel on my skin. The fire is a burn that blazes from the inside, one that hasn’t been there before this moment. It aches and scratches at my chest, taking over all my senses.

I can’t escape it; there is no escaping it. Almost like it’s part of me now. It’s a type of flame that has me writhing and shaking.

And then all at once, it’s gone as if it was never there in the first place. No more pain.

No more all-consuming heat.

Though, my heart still pounds as the viscous memories come flashing back to the forefront of my mind, at the same speed of my racing heart.

Thump.

Their hands on me.

Thump.

The way they shoved themselves inside of me.

Thump.

My screams and the feel of their sweat against my skin.

Without thought I push them away from me. “Get off!” Tears stream down my face as I swipe my hands down my body as if I could undo what they’ve done. I heave in a sob as I rock, holding my knees to my chest.

It takes several moments for me to realize how quiet it is apart from the hissing and crackling of fire, and my body freezes.

Where am I?

Slowly, I open my eyes to flames.

Where the fuck am I?

There are no lights, no walls. It’s like being in a carved-out cave. The room is circular, the floor made of smooth black stone, like an obsidian crystal, and at the edge is a small gap where flames gather and burn up the wall.

I’m trapped.

My heart slams in my chest as I turn fully around. It’s only me in this expansive room of nothing. There are no stairs, no doorway. There’s no entrance or exit.

I turn around and around looking for anything as my pulse pounds in my ears with terror.

It’s an island of rock, surrounded by flames, although when I arch my neck to look up, the ceiling is there. So far up and black. I assume it’s a ceiling but, perhaps it is merely the abyss.

“It’s called hell,” a man’s voice startles me.

I whip around to face him, expecting to see one of…them. One of the men who took me.

The reminder is painful but it doesn’t prevent the fear from consuming me entirely as I stand, my knees shaking. He stands tall in a modern black suit. The flames cast shadows upon his sharp jawline and high cheekbones. His shoulders are broad but his body is slim. Slowly, he removes his jacket to reveal a crisp white button-down shirt, then he rolls up his sleeves one at a time to reveal corded muscle down his forearm.

My heart beats harder at the sight of his handsome face and stalky composure. Although I am afraid of him, I’m also drawn to him, not realizing who he is yet.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I barely manage to whisper as my palms go cold and clammy. It’s then that I look down at my own body to find myself covered. A burgundy chiffon nightgown has appeared on my body.