Captive in the Dark

He was my tormentor and my solace; the creator of the dark and the light within.

This isn't a romance. You're not a damsel in distress and I'm not the handsome prince come to save you.

People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night.

The only way to truly be safer, was to accept the dark, to walk in it with eyes wide open, to be a part of it. To keep your enemies close.

People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety – like light – is a façade.

I wrapped my arms around him and held on as hard as I could. He was my tormentor and my solace: the creator of the dark and the light within. I didn’t care that he would undoubtedly hurt me at any moment, right now; I just needed somebody to hold me… To tell me these exact words. Its going to be okay. It wasn’t of course, I knew that. But I didn’t care, I needed the lie.

Caleb was a strange person, cruel and inhuman; a monster, and yet, at other times, he seemed so capable of something like caring. He made me cry and scream and shake with fear and nearly a split second later he could make me almost believe he wasn't responsible for any of it. He could hold me and make me feel safe. How was that possible?

For what it's worth Livvie, I never thought of you as a whore. And you are...the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I was as real to him as he was to me and it struck me just then that I meant something to him. In whatever capacity he was able, I meant something. The irony of that epiphany made my gut twist.

If I survive this, I can't go back. I'll have to move forward and I don't know what that means.

I wanted to cry for wanting to cry.

You'll always be Kitten to me...Livvie.

There is a moment, in all my studying of movies and scripts, that I’d realized something elemental about human beings and why I’d been attracted to that imaginary world. Each piece of work was attempting to describe the human condition, in all its good, bad and ugly glory. At first, it’d been an extension of my own life, strangely mirrored in this world of ‘fiction’. Each story wanted, no— needed—to reveal a human fragility, a human bondage which tied people to the things they did and to be the person they held in their heads. Those stories were something true and sometimes horrific but people were people and the parts didn’t just tell the whole story.

Each day I was more vulnerable than the last. Each day he stripped away more of my sense of self. And now he'd taken the last of it, the last of me. But who did that make me? An extension of him? Someone new? I didn't know. Didn't want to know.

I blinked once, "if it's anywhere near as bad as what those assholes did to me... I'm tired of living through this shit just to step into deeper fucking shit. So if all you have planned for me is more torture, I think I'd rather die. Just do me one favor and don't... I don't want to die slow.

Why couldn't he just keep being an evil, soulless bastard so I knew what his role was and I knew mine?

No more movie references. No more fictional characters to relate to. This was real. It was destiny. I was…a thing, a commodity.

You're going to pay for that Pet,' he panted. The right side of his face sported an angry red hand print. I shook out my hand, 'I already have. That was my change.

Like a Falcon, she needed the dark to understand who her master was. She would learn to trust him, to rely upon him, to anticipate what he wanted from her. And like any master with his salt, he would reward her for her obedience. He would be exceedingly firm, but he would also be as fair as he could be. He had notchosen the instrument of his revenge at random. He had chosen a beautiful submissive. And what was a submissive if not adaptable -if not a survivor?

Today the pain was emotional, the worst kind

I was a pretty thing, and pretty things did not fare well in this world, not in the hands of men like him.

the only way to truly be safer, was to accept the dark

Well, sorry pet, I don't want to be fixed. Whatever your little schoolgirl brain told you about men is absurdly wrong. This isn't a romance. You're not a damsel-in-distress and I'm not the handsome prince come to save you.

I told him I was sorry. He sighed and held me closer, his lips against the shell of my ear, "You will be, Kitten".

I was treading the thin line of his patience while falling off the thin line of my sanity

He kissed me everywhere, not like before, not angry. And God help me, it shouldn't have made a difference, but somehow it did.

Make him love you,” Ruthless Me whispered. “Make it so he can’t live without you. The devil you know.” I felt her growing inside me, bringing with her the insane idea that I actually wielded power with Caleb.

A million dollars? A bit much don't you think?" "Fuck you." Caleb smiled, the self indulgent little shit. "My apologies," he mocked with a slight forward bow, "What I meant to say is: no pussy's that good. Though yours does come close.

Could she sense her life as she knew it hanging precariously in the balance? Could she feel his eyes on her? Did she have a sixth sense for monsters? The thought of it made him smile

The intensity with which he stared at me bordered on obscene.