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buryustogether · 2 years

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mary on a cross

part 1 part 2 part 3

lycan/werewolf!heisenberg x f!reader

summary: for decades, the beast has provided for and protected your village. when he suddenly stops, however, the council decides a virgin sacrifice is in order to appease him.

warnings/tags: heavy religious talk/themes, sexual assault (checking virginity), sacrifice, mentions of blood and cannibalism, bondage, swearing, mentions of starvation and violence

author’s note: i wrote this at 3am based on a dream so be kind.

inspired by mary on a cross by ghost

‘ you go down just like holy mary ’

It was the village priest who asked if your virginity was still intact.

But the question was not unfounded.

You could not fathom as to why your ancestors had chosen this spot to settle down. It was a clearing near the bottom of a ravine, surrounded on the north and south by impassable mountains. The forest occupied the other directions, too thick and dense to travel through and cling to the hope you would make it back with all of your fingers and toes intact. Game was scarce, and luxuries such as spice and cloth even more so. It was desolate, and miserable.

You could not fathom as to why they had chosen this spot.

The legends told of the struggle they faced after first establishing your little village. They found no animals to hunt, and the fish they managed to capture from the small creek running along the perimeter were smaller than their dinner plates. Some starved. Others began to turn upon one another.

Then there came the beast.

They said no one laid eyes on him until after the first of the elk arrived at the town square, freshly slaughtered and with enough meat for everyone. It had appeared from seemingly thin air, with only a pair of deep-imprinted footsteps in the snow to suggest it had not wandered in and died on its own. They praised God for the gift. Then the next day, a pair of deer were delivered.

This went on for, they told, a week before someone spied their so-called savior. They spotted him in the nighttime, when he had come to gift them another elk, this one bigger than the last. He held the form of a man and wore clothes far warmer than theirs, shielded from the cold in ways they could not yet comprehend. But then he’d turned to the light, his eyes glinting, and they’d realized it was not a man in the slightest. His eyes were an otherworldly golden, his bared teeth jagged as blades. Long, black claws sprouted from his fingers and his grey hair curtained his face like a destroyed portrait.

The villagers began to offer payment for his deeds. They tried to leave him money, but it went untouched. A beast would have no use for their currency. They left him the word of God, and they found the Bible ripped to shreds. Then one, so the legends went, left upon his offering pedestal a pair of leather gloves.

They were gone the following morning, and he never took another thing.

And, as the elders have taught, the beast provided for the village for years, decades. He brought them food when they were close to starving - how he knew, they could not understand - and protected it from threats. He became their new god. There was no one that did not benefit from his protection, and he never failed to deliver.

Until last week.

Your eighteenth birthday had passed a number of days before, and your family had used up the rest of the sugar making your favorite tarts for your special occasion. Now, you wished you had savored them just a bit more.

The beast did not come on the first day of the week, nor the second or third. The villagers had grown lazy, used to being provided for, and there were no extra provisions hidden away for an unthinkable occasion such as this. Bellies began to grumble, and moods dropped like insects. The beast did not come the fourth, fifth, six, nor seventh day.

People panicked.

Some believed the end had come, and their loved ones were forced to stop them from ending themselves.

The council held a meeting, one each and every one of the villagers was required to attend. You found yourself sitting in one of the back most pews with your parents, head held low as the women did and hands crossed dutifully over your lap. You only looked up when the priest, backed by the council, cleared his throat from his pulpit and the worried chatter ceased.

The priest cleared his throat, seeming to be searching for the right words as dozens upon dozens of eyes bored into him. People needed this reassurance, promises that the beast, their god, had not abandoned them.

At last, he spoke. “These are trying times, as I’m sure everyone here knows and feels within their homes.” There passed around a number of murmured agreements. “The council and I have been meeting, searching for solutions to this problem.” He took a breath and closed his eyes; everyone waited. “We have come to the conclusion that, somehow, in some way, we have angered the beast. He has turned away from us in a test, and we must show him that we are still worth saving. We must offer him desirable, and valuable, in order to win back his affections.”

The village people burst into a storm of murmurs and whispers. Was it true? Had they truly angered him?

“What do you suggest we offer him, then?” demanded a man near the front. “We haven’t anything desirable, nor valuable. The beast provides us with everything we value.”

The priest held up a hand to silence him, as if this was precisely what he expected to come of his announcement. The council whispered behind him. You felt your stomach roiling as you glanced to your parents. Just what did you all have to give a deity such as the beast? If your village had something he wanted, it was beyond you why he had not taken it by now.

Perhaps he was too kind a god to steal from his followers.

The priest went on, his voice booming and powerful enough to shake the earth atop its core. “What we will give the beast is no object, nor anything we can see or touch.” There came a pause, long and haunting. “The Bible commands a virgin must be sacrificed in order to appease an angered god.”

The church may as well have imploded upon itself. Mothers gasped and clutched their children to their breasts. Young girls looked to their parents and tugged on their sleeves, demanding to know what had just been said.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as your head snapped around to take everything in. Your pulse quickened and you fisted your skirts, then hurried to drop your head again. Perhaps if he didn’t see you, his eyes would flit right over you.

It wasn’t much of a secret you were still a virgin, what with how none of the young men in the village had successfully caught your eye. That - and you just simply weren’t ready. It was as easy as so.

Now, you were wishing you had just gone and got it over with in the hay bales in the back of the stables like every other girl your age.

“Now, everyone, calm yourselves.” The priest’s soothing tone swept again over the crowd, and they focused their attention back to his tall figure upon the raised platform. “The council has already decided upon a soul to offer the beast. Before we call out their name, we must remember this is for the greater good of the village, and our people. If we do not offer the beast a peace offering, we will freeze and starve. Is this really what we want?”

No, it was not what they wanted.

Your mouth went dry and you tried to keep your breathing even as a council member handed the priest a small piece of paper, and he read it silently first. Then -

“Y/N.”

Your world came to a halt. The clocks stopped ticking. The creek outside stopped murmuring and whispering. You lifted your head to find every pair of eyes in the church upon you, including your parents’, your friends’, your neighbors’.

This couldn’t happen. You weren’t going to be sacrificed to a beast, to a god. You just wouldn’t. You still had so much to live for.

So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You ran.

Your feet carried you in a flurry of motion down the aisle and through the doors, down the steps and into the icy street.

You only made it a few more yards before one of the men grabbed you and hauled you back.

Reality became a twisted, mocking version of itself from then on. You forced yourself to disappear from your consciousness as they restrained you to keep you from running, chained you to a bench in the back of the church so that the elders of the council could spread your legs and ensure you were a virgin. You felt your face heat and tears roll down your cheeks as your legs involuntarily kicked and flailed, their touches upon your most intimate parts a violation of your soul.

You could not tell when that stage ended, and another began. They dressed you in the finest skirts and silks, painted your face and made your hair. If there had been a mirror present, and the circumstances had been far, far different, you were sure you would have enjoyed gazing at your reflection. Thought you looked pretty, even.

But the circumstances were not different.

The circumstances found you deep, deep in the woods, chained to an offering pedestal, and kneeling with your arms above you.

Waiting to be found by the beast.

Your tears had dried and your panic and fear turned to rage. Your parents and friends had only stood by and allowed everything that happened to you be done, too concerned with their own selfish needs to bother protesting. They had only said their goodbyes and sent you away, intent on feasting what the beast brought them in return for your beauty, your body, your virginity… your blood.

You didn’t know quite what to expect - if the beast even did find you. If he was even alive. If he even wanted what you had to offer. Perhaps he would uphold his honorable reputation, explain his absence and anger with the villagers, set you free to take the message to the others. Or perhaps he would ravish you, thrilled with the sacrifice, then clap those fabled rows of razor teeth into your neck and lick up the waterfalls of blood that would spew from your throat.

Or perhaps you would die of the cold first, and you wouldn’t have to be alive to endure any of it.

The crack of a twig in the wood snagged your attention. You lifted your head, previously hung to stare at the snow beneath you, and searched the dense forest around you. Another snap; from your left, this time. A third, to your right. Rustling. Dead ahead.

“Well, well, well. Don’t you look like Mary on a cross.”

You heard his voice before you saw him. It was deep and drawling, tipped with some foreign tongue you could not place. He accentuated his words, as if he would shame himself for stumbling even once, as if he craved the attention his sentences alone brought him.

The lone figure of a man stepped into your view from the wood, and you were unable to keep your lips from parting and your breath from hitching. He was tall, taller than your father when he stood to his full height, and he wore clothing unlike you had ever seen before. A shirt unbuttoned against the freezing temperatures, shiny boots to stamp in the snow. A thin coat that wagged at his calves and a hat atop his grey hair. A pair of leather gloves. And shaded specs perched on his nose, not for reading or seeing, but purely for fashion.

You could not deny, in that moment, that he was the most attractive man you had ever seen.

The beast approached you slowly, like an apex predator stalking its prey, and kept his hands in his pockets as he did so. You wondered if, beneath those gloves, his fingers extended into claws, like in the legends. You wondered if his teeth were as jagged as they said, if his eyes were gold like molten copper behind those shades.

He stopped before you, a feet away, and crouched down on his haunches so that he could be at your level. It seemed he found your thundering pulse and wide eyes humorous, because he answered two of your thoughts at once; he grinned wide, showing off perfectly normal human teeth, and pushed his shades further down his nose to reveal hazel eyes, nearly bordering on silver. Everything about him screamed ordinary, but you knew he was anything but.

“What have we here?” he asked, leaning in closer. You flinched and turned your head away, straining against the chains around your wrists. He stopped at your reaction and tilted his head rather curiously. “You can ease up, there, princess. I’m not going to hurt you.” He flashed you another blinding grin. “Yet.”

A shiver climbed up your spine, and it was not from the cold.

The beast hummed as he stood and examined the chains holding you to the offering pedestal. “What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked. He gave the linked metal a testing yank. “And why the hell are you in a position like this?” He gave a self-indulgent chuckle. “If you wanted a ride with the big bad beast, you only needed to ask.”

“I didn’t do this myself,” you snapped, the first thing you’d spoken since his arrival. You felt your blood turn to ice as he glanced over at your outburst. You swallowed your fear and took a shuddering breath; you were sure your lips weds turning blue by now. “The village believes you’re angry with them. With us. That you’ve abandoned us and a… a sacrifice was required to appease you.”

Another chuckle came from the beast’s throat, this one a bit more amused than the last. “Oh, fuck. I swear, you humans get more and more loony with that religious stuff every decade. Let me guess.” He circled the pedestal and came to a stop on your other side, then slid a leather-clad hand to cup your face and make you look up at him. His fingers were not sharp; instead, they were warm. “You’ve never gotten your skirt lifted - am I right?”

He laughed when you jerked your head away and refused to look at him.

“Well, I’ll give you this,” he said, then grabbed one of the chains with a powerful grip, “you’re one hell of a volunteer.” Like it was made of nothing but twine, he ripped the chain clean from the pedestal and dropped it to the ground. Your arm screamed in relief and you almost did, too. He moved on to the other chain. “And I hate to burst your little sacrilegious bubble, but I didn’t ‘abandon’ you people. Ever heard of taking a nap? Forgive me for sleeping in a little.”

You didn’t quite know how to respond to his words as he let the other chain down, and you were able to undo the clasps around your wrists. Sleeping? He had been sleeping, hibernating, even, and your people thought the world was ending?

How stupid they all sounded.

But you stuck to one bit of his dialogue - the piece that angered you the most. “I didn’t volunteer,” you said roughly as you rubbed your raw, tender wrists. He stopped from where he was now inspecting the heavy chains, gaze sliding to your hunched form. “They… they forced me to do this. They made sure I was still a virgin, and, and dragged me out here -“

“What’s your name?”

His simple request startled you from the rant you were preparing. You suddenly felt small beneath his intense gaze, and you found yourself huddling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. “Y/N,” you whispered.

The beast dropped the chains, whatever interest he had in them now gone, and stalked closer. You cowered slightly, tilting your head away. He crouched, waited a moment, then reached out like he had before and took the point of your chin under his thumb. Gently, but still forcefully, he dragged your head back around so that you were looking right at him. With his other hand, he pulled his shades off, and you were able to gaze directly into those silvery eyes of his. You swore you could have seen stars dancing within the irises.

“Hate to be the one to tell you this, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his tone slightly different than it had been before, “but I’m going to kill those people for putting their hands on a pretty little thing like you.” He must have felt your breath hitch, because he tilted his head and brushed a thumb over your bottom lip; you were unable to stop the feeling of powerful heat that went straight to your core between your thighs. “Innocence is a treasure not many poor souls on this damned earth have any more; and who is man to take it from another for his own self preservation?”

He pulled away, and you let out the breath you were unaware you had been holding. The beast offered you a hand, and, your own still shaking slightly, you accepted. He hauled you to your feet and said, “Name’s Heisenberg. You can call me Karl; but only when it’s just you and I, pretty girl.”

Warily, you glanced over your shoulder, back toward the village. “You… you’re not going to -“

“Oh, no,” he said, then cupped your face and brought you close to his own. You found yourself leaning into his warm, warm touch. “Those pricks don’t deserve you; not after what they’ve done. Besides, I’d like to wait them out… see how long it takes for them to turn on one another when the cupboards empty out and there’s no one to bring them food.”

Blinking rapidly, you murmured low, “Why have you been…”

“Feeding you?” The beast - Heisenberg - said. You nodded. “Call me old fashioned, but I like the idea of helping people.” He slid his shades back on, and his enchanting gaze disappeared. “But only the ones who deserve it.” He took a few steps back to where he’d come from, then glanced back. “Coming?” he asked. A sick, twisted kind of smile blossomed across his lips. “Or, would you like to pay your dear people a visit? Have a little fun - the way they had theirs with you?”

You thought about your answer.

Then matched his sadistic grin.

Heisenberg gave a low laugh and swept back toward you, bringing his lips inches from yours. You did not shy away this time. “Oh, I think I’m going to like you.”

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x female reader #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil vii #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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cicidarkarts · 1 year

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Entwined, Always: 24 - Escape Attempt

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“All right, y'all wanna stay alive here, we’re gonna need t’ discuss some things,” was what Lucas had told her the day after her encounter with Jack. Since then, he’d been going over what to say and do around his folks and Eveline. If she could get them to trust her, she’d never have to worry about them again. So she memorized signals, triggers, and some interjections he suggested she use, though overall he told her not to do much talking.

“And y'all don’ gotta eat that nasty shit, just slip it t’ Diane, she loves it.”

It was dinner with the whole family that night, and a woman that she’d never seen. She was skinny, young, with black hair unruly in her face. Persephone sat between her and Lucas, forcing a straight face when Eveline jumped into her lap. She quietly held the young girl as Eveline bounced on her legs and chattered about her ‘new big sister’ — though she was having trouble pronouncing her name as anything other than ‘Persepenny’. Eveline took a liking to her long, thick hair and braided it as they waited for dinner.

“Your hair is so pretty, Sis!” “Thank you,” she replied, blank eyes staring at the table. “Why don’ ya come over here, Evie?” Lucas said. “I think yer big sis is a little tired.”

Eveline smiled wide and switched laps, giving Persephone space to breathe. Marguerite soon arrived with the food and handed out bowls and spoons. She dropped a good sized portion of the food into the bowl in front of Persephone. She felt her throat clench up and stomach lurch when the acrid scent of death hit her in the face. Looking away from the mess of organs (and a whole finger), she swallowed back the bile.

When dinner started, Eveline got to her seat between Jack and Marguerite, who kept touching her hair and calling her precious. They didn’t notice Persephone spooning as much ‘food’ as possible to Diane, apologizing internally for giving such vile crap to the poor creature. Diane did seem to eat it right up but it didn’t make Persephone feel any better, knowing she probably would’ve gobbled down shit had it been given to her.

“So, Persephone,” Marguerite said. Persephone’s heart jumped, and she tightened her lips to keep it from showing. “You and my son, together again. You better be treatin’ my baby right.” “Of course…” She paused for a moment, staring down into her lap. Jack slammed his fist on the table, dinnerware rattling. “Dammit, young lady! You look at’chur mother when she’s talkin’ ta ya!” Persephone’s stiff gaze landed on Marguerite’s saccharine smile. “Well, I for one am glad my son’s got such a nice girl,” said Marguerite. “Ooh, I wonder if we could have a weddin’!”

Wedding? No. No, no, no, no — Persephone would not let herself be wed to Lucas, not under these circumstances and certainly not ‘till death by insanity or this crazy house do they part. She glanced over at Eveline, who clapped and bounced.

“I’ve always wanted to be in a wedding! I wanna be the flower girl!” “Oh, Evie,” said the black-haired woman, her eyes lighting up, “you’d look so beautiful with a little flower crown!” “All right, let’s not get too ahead a’ ourselves,” said Lucas; the only one making sense in the whole room, scarily enough. “We wanna make sure our newest family member is nice n’ comfy first, right?” “Of course,” Jack agreed. “Best not to rush these things, you know.” Eveline frowned and crossed her arms tight. “But I want a wedding! Don’t you, big Sis?”

Her large, childish eyes looked Persephone over. Persephone’s gaze darted to Lucas. Lucas reached up and tapped his cheek twice, then pretended he was simply itching his jawline. Persephone held back her grimace. It would probably be the only answer Eveline would accept, otherwise a major tantrum could come on.

“Yes,” Persephone said, emotionless eyes locking onto Eveline’s. “I’d love to have a wedding one day.” Eveline giggled and squealed. “Yay!”

If she was going to plan a wedding, Persephone was going to drown herself in the bayou.

Silence rested over the table, with just the sounds of eating and utensils scraping. The woman with the tangled black hair chowed down on the food and Lucas kept slipping it to Diane in secrecy. Marguerite smiled at everyone, but her brows clenched.

“That girl still thinks she’s too good for us?” She asked no one in particular. Jack tore through the organ meats with his serrated knife, then he said, “Zoe’s prob’ly in her trailer again. Someone’s gonna need ta teach that girl a lesson.”

He put down his utensils, wiped his mouth, and stood. The screeching of his chair against the wooden floor made Persephone’s heart jump. It was the first time she realized she hadn’t seen Zoe at all, and now Zoe was in deep shit. She looked to Lucas, who was smirking and trying not to laugh. His sociopathic ass wasn’t going to do shit about it, so she shot up.

“I’ll do it.” The entire family looked at her, including Eveline. She continued, “You know, as an honorary member of the family. I think I should prove myself, and— uh—” She cracked her knuckles. “—‘teach her a lesson’.”

Jack’s eyes scanned her, then he sat back in his seat. She took that as permission and, after stealing one last glance at a confused Lucas as he unhooked her leash, Persephone jogged to the trailer. Uncertainty toward Zoe’s mindset made her think she should just walk away, but considering Zoe rarely, if ever, showed up for dinner — and because she shuddered at the thought of Lucas’s potential punishment — she decided to check if something else was going on.

When she approached Zoe’s dwelling, she caught sight of a silhouette darting away from the window. If Jack often ‘taught her a lesson’, it would be no wonder Zoe was on edge. She knocked on the door.

“Zoe, it’s me, Persephone. You in there?” “I have a shotgun,” Zoe warned. “I’m not here for trouble but aim it at me if it makes you feel better. Just open the door.”

Zoe’s shadow peered out of the window, then the door opened. Muzzles of the double-barrel shotgun pointed in her face and Zoe glared at her from around the gun. She backed up and motioned with a jerk of her head for Persephone to enter, then she slammed the door and locked them both inside.

She demanded, “Whaddaya want?” “I needed a break. They’re pretty pissed at you for not going to dinner, you know. Jack was about to come over here. Figured I should instead.” “Yeah?” Zoe sneered. “Tryna get me ta put my guard down, are ya? I ain’t fallin’ for it.” “Whatever makes you feel better.”

Zoe’s finger rested upon the trigger, her arms quivering. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, Zoe probably searching for a good reason to put her down right then and there. Persephone didn’t plan on giving her any reason but if Zoe shot her dead, then so be it. To ease the tension, she showed Zoe her empty hands.

“I can turn out my pockets if you want,” she offered. “Do it.” Persephone did so, her empty pockets on full display. Zoe sighed, face falling. “God, Persephone. You’re real dumb for gettin’ messed up in all this.” “Yeah, I know. Speaking of, why don’t you join your family for dinner?” “Don’ call ‘em that.” “What should I call them, then?” “Dunno, but they’re not my family. Whatever Eveline did ta Momma n’ Daddy, they ain’t here anymore. N’ Lucas…” “Yeah, he’s a real asshat.”

A small smile threatened Zoe’s features but she quickly dashed it, still holding the shotgun up to Persephone’s face.

“Gonna shoot me?”

They stood in silence for a moment as Zoe scanned her. Eventually, however, Zoe lowered her gun, finger now off the trigger.

“No. Just hard ta know who ta trust anymore.” “Don’t trust me just yet,” Persephone said, pointing to her collar. “Got this baby ‘cuz I go berserk just like everyone else.” “Lucas put that on you?” “Yep.” “Christ. If he’s treatin’ you like that, he must really be far gone.”

Zoe set the gun aside and gestured for them to sit at her small dining table at the back of the trailer, two booth-like seats on the sides. Persephone sat on one side, moving the cigarette butts that lined the table so she could rest her arms atop it. Zoe sighed, sitting on the other side as she lit a cigarette with shaky hands.

It was the first time Persephone’d gotten a good look at Zoe’s trailer. Small and cramped, but appeared to have once been cozy. Dirty clothes lay sprawled on the floor, ashtrays filled to the brim covered the table, discarded cigarettes were scattered at their feet, and a layer of grime coated everything. A scent of flowers and sweets tried to mask the body odor and cigarette smoke that filled the trailer, but whatever sprays or candles she was using weren’t working.

“How you holdin’ up?” Zoe asked and Persephone’s gaze came back to her. “Well, I’m not dead. That’s something, I guess.” “Ya never shoulda come here.” “Maybe not, but… It’s weird. If knew what was here, I still would’ve come back.” “Ya know that’s crazy, right?” “Yep. But I didn’t have any reason to keep going. Dad’s dead, Terry killed herself, I had a shit job, and I’m pretty much a surgeon already — just two years left and I woulda been in.” She leaned over the table, chin on her arms. “But I didn’t give a shit. About anything.”

There was a brief silent reprieve between them. Zoe took such a long drag off her cigarette that it burnt down to the filter. She snubbed it out in the crowded ashtray and reached for another, then smoked more before finally speaking.

“Wish I didn’t give a shit. Wish that I stopped lovin’ Judith, missin’ school, wishin’ I could grow up n’ do somethin’ with my life. But that’s all gone now. I’ll never get any of that back. Especially not Judith.” “I’m sorry, Zoe. I’m sure Judith still loves you.” Zoe breathed deeply. “I miss ‘er so much.” “You two were together for a long time.” “Yeah.” A small grin broke Zoe’s lips. “Funny. She n’ I got together ‘round the same time you n’ Lucas did.”

Persephone forced a listless smile, still leaning across the table. She could only watch as Zoe's eyes swam with emotion. Zoe's lips quivered against the cigarette, and her brow was upturned wrinkling her forehead. A tear slipped from her eye.

“How can we talk about you n’ Lucas, n’ me n’ Judith, n’ you not shed a single tear? Aren’t you sad, too, Persephone?”

Persephone paused. She was sad to know her old life with Lucas was over, sad to know that her sanity was slipping away and she’d wind up just as crazy as everyone else. Yet equal parts of her were numb to it all. Rather than dumping all of that onto poor, stressed Zoe, she replied simply,

“Just dumb as hell, I guess.”

Zoe chuckled at her response but it soon turned into more tears and sniffling. She stood up and threw herself into Persephone’s arms, sobbing. Persephone’s lips tightened, a single hand patting Zoe’s back. She tried to hold Zoe and let her cry. It was difficult to see Zoe, who seemed so strong to resist Evie and brave to go against her family, break down that way.

Persephone sat at dinner, examining all of her twisted ‘family members’, some glowering, some smiling. Marguerite gushed more about the wedding and Eveline clapped and sang about being a flower girl. A protest tried to erupt from Persephone’s lips but her jaw wouldn’t move, try as she might.

She rubbed her eyes in hopes it would snap her out of her trance, but when she opened them again, the table had been replaced with a black void. Her body fell into it, and a bubbling, moldy mess awaited her. She tried to scream but her jaw wouldn’t open. A hoarse and shrill screech tore at the back of her throat, its sound the herald of the beast within the void: Lucas, dressed in a ripped and musty tuxedo. He reached out for her with a huge, pale hand. His fingers wrapped so tight around her body that it ripped open her jaw and her scream finally came through.

He tore her into the void and her feet hit solid ground. She wore a white, yellowing wedding dress, dirty and fetid, a bouquet of dying flowers in her grasp as she stood before Lucas and his soulless eyes. He took her hand in his and she heard their disembodied voices agreeing to be wed. The wedding band slipped on her left ring finger. She stared down at it with trembling, sweaty hands.

“No,” she whispered.

The audience comprised of people crying and smiling, as if it was the happiest moment of anyone’s life. Persephone kept repeating, “no,” over and over, louder each time until she screamed it. The members of the family, all dressed in dirty formal clothes, laughed at her. Monsters lined the outside, dripping black mold onto the ground, cackling. Her mother and father’s decaying corpses sat in the audience, roaring with malicious laughter alongside her featureless dead aunt. They laughed at her struggling, laughed at her torment, laughed as Lucas forced her into the finalizing kiss.

Persephone gasped awake, breathing hard and dripping sweat underneath the covers. A nightmare — another crazy fucking nightmare. Felt so real. But was the waking world any better?

Persephone laid on her side and stared at the opposite half of the bed where Lucas had fallen asleep, phone in his lap. She watched him sleep. Images of that dream — the dirty wedding dress and the musty tuxedo — flashed across her mind. Their wedding would be spent with those mold monsters sitting alongside the fucked up members of his family, and her mother, aunt, and father’s corpses. Eveline would be their flower girl, the black-haired woman her bridesmaid.

Persephone’s heart raced. She needed to get the fuck out. She didn’t know what she’d do once she left — get out of town and never look back? — but she couldn’t stay.

Gently, silently, she sat up. Her hands quivered as they rose toward her collar. She felt its phantom tingles of electricity along her throat. She held her breath as she unbuckled it and laid it across the bed with her attached leash. Her breath returned slowly. She tiptoed out of the room, to the left through the kitchen, and toward the security door. Her hand grasped the handle, shaking, sweat making the metal slick as she pressed the lever with her thumb and pushed the door open.

Persephone’s heart fell when she heard the vibration of his phone and a small, second-long alarm chirp from the bedroom. She broke through to the barn, heart pounding in her head and chest.

The door that led to the barn was open and she rushed through it. Something was being constructed, tools and wire fence laying in the middle of the floor with a short barrier of wood Persephone had to leap over. She ran to the barn doors, seeing some construction in the front; a metal box not quite finished and more tools inside that she nearly tripped over.

The barn door beyond had been chained shut. She yanked at them, wishing she could tear the doors off their hinges. All these fucking chains and locks and shit keeping her confined — she couldn’t take it anymore!

“Pers,” she heard Lucas calling softly, stopping her. “C’mon, Pers, I’m not mad, just come back t’ bed.”

His gentle voice sent a sharp chill down her back. She hid behind the wall of the metal box, pressed against a dead pig. The putrid stench pierced her nose. Lucas searched around the barn. She tried to think, sidling along the walls and sneaking behind rotting hay bales with thoughts flying through her mind. If she could make it to the guest house, she could climb her way out into the forest.

“Ya can’t leave, Pers. Trust me on that.”

She saw him scouring the construction area. There was no cover from her position to get across to the door she came in. Persephone breathed deeply, anticipation of her next move making her skin crawl.

She dashed out of her hiding spot, ignoring Lucas calling out to her. When she was through the door, she slammed it behind her. Rather than run back down the hall where he’d surely catch up with her, she dove into the small storage room at the corner and hid behind the half-shut door.

A dirty, square window in the door let her see out and she crouched down as low as she could, praying he wouldn’t notice. He stopped in front of the door, back facing her as he inspected the hall.

He turned, then opened the door farther, peeking inside. Her breath caught in her throat as the door nearly hit her feet. If it had, he would’ve known for sure and she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Lucas scanned the room. She put her hands up against her mouth to stifle her breathing. Just don’t look behind the door, she chanted in her mind, just don’t look behind the door. She shut her eyes tight in terror that accidental eye contact would give her away. It took so long for him to be satisfied with his observations that the lack of oxygen to her racing heart made her lightheaded.

“Hmm,” he grunted and shut the door behind him.

His soft footsteps faded away to somewhere in the house. She released her suppressed breath a few moments later, panting to catch up with her pulsating heart. Now that she wasn’t sure where Lucas had gone, getting to the guest house might not go so well. She carefully stood on quivering legs, peering out the window. The hallway was empty down both ends, as far as she could see.

She opened the door, cursing its creaking. Each rasp threatened to give her away. Her legs felt like lead as she trekked as quickly and quietly as possible back to the barn. There had to be something she could do, something she could find amongst the tools to help her, something on the upper level — she didn’t know.

When she slipped into the barn, her blood ran cold at the sight of something in her peripherals. Her legs froze, neck straining to look. Lucas had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

“‘Sup. Thought ya could trick me, did ya?”

She tried to run, making it only to the fence in the middle of the room before he grabbed the back of her shirt and ripped her into him. His arms locked around her, keeping hers by her sides. She flailed, back of her head slamming into his collarbone, feet kicking his legs and anything around her.

“Let me go! I can’t do this anymore! LET ME GO!” “Ya can’ leave! If ya leave, Evie’s gonna kill you!” Persephone stopped thrashing. Her lungs heaved. “Wha—what?” “That’s what I been tryna tell ya. Ya can’t leave, Pers.” “Y… You’re lying! Lemme go!” “I’m not lyin’! I told y'all I didn’ want ya here fer a reason!”

She didn’t know how Eveline would find out that she left, but with everything else that’d happened, it could very well be the truth. That’s why he’d been so adamant on her not leaving. She thought it was just his way of controlling her, keeping her locked up so he could use her (though, that undoubtably was part of it). But now… Now she wasn’t so sure. Zoe was right. She was real stupid to get herself mixed up in all of this. She let exhaustion overtake her and fell into his chest, hopeless and trapped.

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