Flower in the Dark

37

Violet

He has locked me away again. Although I'm not surprised, considering that I tried to escape. His other reaction though… I shiver at the memory of his power over my body, and the way he took me so mercilessly. What he did was so wrong, but it felt so damn right all at once. I'm so sore between my thighs, and I have bruises on my wrists and my hips from where he held me down as he fucked my body raw.

I look around my familiar prison and sigh, once again annoyed at myself for getting caught, and my basic freedom was so short-lived. It's partially my own fault, but if I wasn't locked away, then I wouldn't have risked trying to escape in the first place.

I'm lying on the bed with the blanket around my scantily clad body, as I am once again limited to the few items of clothing he gave me when I was in here before, and the ones he left while I was showering: more lingerie and the tee I had put on when I found the case he had brought here from my home. The rest of my clothes are still in it, downstairs with my other personal belongings. He hasn't seen fit to bring them to me since locking me back in nearly a week ago.

He is punishing me, I can tell. I haven’t even seen or heard from him since he shouted at me to come back up here and shower. I would think I was completely alone if not for the food and drink that appears daily, but he waits until I am sleeping to slip in and out of my room, so I am never able to catch him.

The lack of human contact is starting to get to me again, I’m restless and bored. I can barely even bring myself to draw in the sketchbook. The nightmares are picking back up, but he doesn’t come to me when I wake up screaming and crying. The nightmares have changed and Z is there with me now, holding my father off. But like my mother, he leaves me, bruised, broken, and all alone with nothingness surrounding me. The total isolation is what wakes me screaming every night.

I fear and crave his vicious touch, even if that is all he comes for I will take what he has to give, and give back everything of myself. He promised that he would take everything and that I would enjoy it.

“You were right, I did enjoy it. The way you manipulate my body, creating feelings I have never experienced, I love and hate the way you use my body for your pleasure.”

Each night I have tried to stay awake, later and later, hoping to catch him as he enters or before he leaves. Even feigning sleep hasn't worked, he is too clever. So, each night I fall asleep, tears drying on my cheeks, voice hoarse from calling for him, begging him to come and see me.

"Please, I need to see you. I want to hate you, but you're all I have right now."

38

Z

I go back to watching her on the cameras again, every night waiting for her to fall into a deep sleep before going to her room. I always watch her for a moment, just to be sure she hasn’t woken, then ghost back out. I leave her to her sleep, and to the inescapable nightmares that plague her dreams every night. It twists my stomach to hear her sounds distress and ignore them, to resist the urge to go and comfort her. However, I am not willing to risk her seeing me vulnerable to her in any way.

“She will never see me weak for her,” I grit out.

I punch the wall of the pantry, not that I use it for that. This is my storeroom, where I keep the tools of my work. I both hate and love this room. My father kept it stocked with his gardening equipment, which drove my mother mad even though she would never have used this as a pantry anyway. Now it’s mine to keep maintained and stocked, but most of the old tools are stained, rusted and some of them broken. It’s hard to part with them though, so I keep them locked up safely away from prying eyes and thieves.

I chuckle slightly at that because thieves avoid this place like death watches them…which I do. Death is nothing new to me, I have seen it, and I have caused it. A slow and small stream of faces and names flash through my memories, surrounding and plaguing me with the macabre of my darkest nights.

Fury builds in my veins, so I exit the storeroom, slamming the door behind me and snapping the padlock shut. I move through the house with purpose and darkness sweeping through my thoughts, and clutching a pair of blunt pruners in my hand as I exit, heading for the car. I need to cut back the parasitic weeds masquerading as flowers, which infest society with their poison. I need to take the edge off, to sate the demons inside before I can visit my flower again.

“Soon, my sweet flower, I will see and have you again soon.”

I drive for a couple of hours, scouring the nearby city for what I need. Watching and waiting, pausing here and there while I observe, asking a few questions here and there, until…

“I’m Daisy, want some company?”

An evil grin encompasses my face, hidden in the poor light. I look her up and down, taking in Daisy’s badly dyed hair, darkly circled eyes, and half-naked, too-thin body.

“Perfect, you’re just what I want right now.”

Hours later, I am home, scrubbing myself rigorously in the shower, watching the last of Daisy stream down my body and swirl down the drain, crimson looked so good on her.

She won’t be missed, filthy and rotten flowers like her are never looked for, and a woman like her will barely make a paragraph in the newspaper, even if she is discovered missing. I am always careful, meticulous in my methods. Tomorrow is clean-up day, my least favorite part, but absolutely necessary.

I walk back to my room, with only a towel wrapped around my waist as I go to watch Violet. A calm sweeps over me, the demons quiet as I eye her perfect form in front of me on the screen. I drop the towel and take my cock in my hand, rubbing it leisurely, when the need hits me in the gut, swift and fast. I need to be inside her, I need her right now.

“Violet, I am going to come for you now, my sweet and perfect flower...”

39

Violet

I’m shocked awake by the feel of a pair of lips pressed gently against mine.