Her onyx hair waving in the wind is what caught my eye initially from across the field. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way she was sauntering her hips with a lustful sway. The ends of her hair flicked the top of her heart shaped derriere. I was being pulled in her direction the longer I stared at her svelte curves. The moon light was showing me where I was headed; through the worn path of the high grass. My feet were walking themselves closer to her.
I craved to be near, to feel her curves shivering under my hands, her body withering with completion. I started to run, closing the gap between us, when she suddenly turned around. Her palm was shoved out in front of her halting my advances. Her eyebrows were pointed with a scowl, lavender eyes beckoning me closer yet I couldn’t move. My feet felt heavy, weighted down unable to move.
It was then that I began looking around with renewed vision; as if the trance was lifted but I didn’t recognize where we were. A mountainside sat just out on the horizon with trees surrounding the base. The trail we were on led down a hill into the ominous forest below where no light could be seen amongst the trees.
My heart was nervously fluttering when I looked directly at her and I noticed she still had her hand up, while her other drummed at the side of her leg. I noticed that my heart beats were in rhythm with the drumming. When they increased so did my beats, when they slowed, my heart followed suit; but when the drumming stopped the pain in my chest was unexpectedly unbearable.
I wanted to run away but it was apparent, she had some kind of malevolent control over me. When I tried to run I couldn’t; nothing moved at my will. That’s when the woman started a shrill wicked laugh accompanied by an evil smile parting her rich red lips and radiant white teeth.
“What’s the matter Marcus?” she questioned me as though she already knew the answer, “wanting to leave so soon?” Her laughter erupted again, sending cold chills down my spine. How did she know my name?
“Who are you?” I asked trying to regain some control and not sound as scared as I felt.
“I’m Helena, you should know that already as we’ve met before,” she said as her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of the night.
“I can’t recall—” I managed to say before she cut me off.
“Not surprising,” her jaw was tight as she pressed her lips together, “you tried to buy me a drink, and I refused. You tried enticing me to your bed, I refused again. You and your cohorts resorted to waiting for me…ring a bell yet?” she said with her eyes as slits of anger trying to pierce through me.
“Ah, c’mon on honey, don’t be like that. You accommodated all three of us perfectly,” I laughed coyly. I tried desperately to make light of the situation. “We were only playing…all in good fun babe.”
“DON’T call me babe and now,” with an angry snarl she moved her hand from the stop position to pointing all of her fingertips at me, “it’s my turn.” I fell to the cold ground instantly on my hands and knees. It was then that I noticed the shards of rock which lay embedded in the dirt and grass.
She motioned me forward with an upside down come hither gesture and I began crawling across the rock laden ground utterly surprised at how my body was moving without me making it; I was shocked.
“Be a good dog and listen to your Master,” her laugh echoing loudly as I crawled closer to her. I felt the rocks digging into the flesh of my hands and knees. “Hurry up,” her fingers began moving faster as I crawled quickly towards her. Once I reached the tip of her pointy black high heeled boots, a single finger flicked and forced my face to look up at her. I could feel her eyes burning into mine. “Will you obey me or must I teach you your place dog?” she asked of me.
I was scared to death to answer. If I said yes, would she let me go or if I said no what more was she capable of doing to me, I thought to myself.
“DOG!” she yelled at me. The fierce double timbre echoing in my head helped speed up my response.
“Yes! Yes! I will obey,” I pleadingly replied. I’ve never played this way before with a woman. It was startling and scary all at once.
“Good boy,” with that she turned and began walking down the hill along the trail into the black forest. Without missing a beat I crawled along side of her leg like some poor puppy dog on a leash, completely against my will or my better judgment, but how much trouble could I get into besides I could over power her in a heartbeat.
“Helena, I’m sorry for whatever I did to you, but this is ridiculous. Let me up…please?” I tried to reason with her.
With a quick flick of her wrist I felt a burning slash across my back.
“Please, I b-beg you…stop.” I couldn’t recall her holding anything in her hands to whip me with, of course I was watching her other assets at the time but I could certainly feel the ache on my back from whatever she smacked me with.
“I’ve got nothing for you to gain; your pleading is in vain.” She continued walking and I lurched forward still on all fours. The rugged forest terrain cut into my skin and bruised my knees; never stopping to rest. Branches from fallen trees were scrapping my face and neck. The sweat beading across my skin was stinging the open gashes from Helena’s brutal beatings of encouragement to keep me crawling when I couldn’t keep my pace with her. My knees were screaming out in pain with every torturous step we took.
“Come on dog…keep up,” she encouraged sweetly with another burning flick of her wrist and yet another slash across my back. My shirt hung in ragged dirty sweat covered tatters. How much longer would I have to crawl? She made her point. Where were we headed?
Just a head I could see an old cottage. If it wasn’t for the curtains hanging in the windows it would’ve looked abandoned. Helenablew a kiss at the house and the lights came on while the front door swung open. Holy shit! This woman just did magic or witchery or whatever you call it. Black voodoo shit. What the hell am I going to do now? That’s when I realized in what direction we had been heading, I could find the place if I had too. The cottage shed some light in the darkness. Poppy Lake was just on the other side of the forest which meant the Interstate was about 25 miles east of us.
She knew I could find my way back because I had crawled every inch of the way. She’s obliviously not afraid of me finding it again. I sat on my hunches at the entrance to the small cottage, when her child-like voice appeared in my head as no words were spoken from her lips, “Your right, I don’t fear you knowing where my home is,” and she began her evil laugh once again. I shook my head trying to get her out of my mind. “Silly dog, you’ll learn, but even then, it will only be too late,” she stepped into the confines of her ominous home.
“What do you think you’re going to do with me…huh!” I yelled at her. The back of her hand landed across my face, leaving the copper taste of blood on my tongue. I was shocked because I didn’t see her reappear.
“Do not speak to me like that you mutt!” she said pronouncing each word pointedly, “You are mine,” the dark tone resonated within her glare at me. I could smell the wafting air around me; it was coming from inside her house. It smelled of rotting meat and blackened soot making me want to gag.
She stood in front of me, slowly raising her hand upwards; with it I rose to face her.Helenawas much shorter than my 5’ 10” build but she wore high heeled boots under her long layered black skirt. It had smudges of burnt orange and dirt around its edges. The billowing sleeves hid her pale boney hands until she raised them to give me a command.
We stood chest to chest as her cleavage pressed against her lace bodice. Behind her long unruly black tresses were the heavily lidded lavender eyes that glared at me, her pointed eyebrows and snarling lips. The man in me wanted to dominate this woman, but the fear I felt made me a coward.
“Do you fear me dog?” she whispered in my ear, her tone was slow like honey as she nuzzled my jaw with hers.
Clenching my teeth, I begrudgingly answered her, “No.”
“That’s ok,” she said pulling away from me, “you will.” She skipped to the center of the house inhaled deeply then let it all out through flared nostrils.Helenarubbed her hands together then spread them wide as if to conduct music in front of her. Just then a large wooden table unfolded directly in front of her. “Come here dog,” she motioned with her fingers again as my feet walked across the threshold. It was a dingy house, old furniture, dusty shelves, the only light came from old melted candles or rusty lanterns all floating in various spots. There were no rooms or interior walls, just a ladder leading up to a loft in the corner and dirty wood floors. I couldn’t run away or much less stand up because she hadn’t let me. I could feel the weight of her authority on the frame of my body.
Behind me now was what looked to be the kitchen. A fire place was inside the wall just right of the sink. There were flies swarming whatever lay in the basin of the sink. I felt bile tickle the back of my throat.
“Come!”Helenaordered. I walked over to the wooden table. With both hands, she raised the air around me; turning me horizontal, then lowered my body on to the wooden table.
Up until this moment, I was nervous and a tad worried but now I feared for my life as blackened leather straps fastened themselves around my ankles and tethered my hands above my head. I tried fighting against them to free myself but they steadily became tighter and the more I struggled the more she laughed the tighter they got.
“Helena…please, this isn’t funny anymore,” I pleaded, almost begging.
“The first honest words you’ve spoken…sadly they mean nothing to me,” she said as she easily dismissed me. She pulled a small table and chair out from a closet with the swirling motion of her finger.
“Now we play. Let me shuffle the cards of your game,” with her palms in the prayer position, she pulled them away from each other, and a deck of worn black cards appeared. She began pulling her hands apart letting her fingers linger, then pressing them back together like pushing together an invisible accordion. The cards began shuffling and reshuffling between them. When she stopped, they stayed, suspended in mid-air. “I’ll let you have first pick dog. Do you want the top, the middle or the bottom?” she asked while an excited smile spread across her face as though she was getting ready to blow out birthday candles.
“I’m…I’m…not sure…w-what game are we playing,” I stuttered as the leather felt like a living snake recoiling and moving around my wrists and ankles, “I don’t know the rules.”
“It’s a hands-on kind of game,” she said with an upturned lip, “you’ll learn as we go. I don’t want to give it all away and ruin it for you,” she said rubbing her hands greedily. “What fun would that be…now PICK!” she yelled as the lights flickered around us.
“Middle…I guess,” I struggled against the straps anticipating more pain with my final decision.
“The middle you shall have then,” she ran her long fingernails down the stack of floating cards and stopped at the center of the deck, “Black Clubs for you…YES! I love clubs.” She bounced up from her chair and skipped over to a cupboard in the kitchen and pulled out what looked like a metal baby bat. She twisted it in her hands as she walked back over to me, her eyes were once again glowing brightly, and small flecks of copper sparked in them, her evil grin made my skin crawl.
“Ready, 1…2…3,” she whispered just as black searing pain jolted from my stomach as the air gushed out my lungs. I wanted to curl into a ball and cover my stomach but no matter how much I struggled, the leather just kept getting tighter, keeping me stretched out on the table.
I coughed a couple times trying to get the breath to scream, “Hel—” before I felt another blow hit my ribs and heard her screams of delight
“Again. Again. Again,” with each word she yelled out, another blow from the bat hit my stomach before I passed out from the pain.
I didn’t know how long I was out, but when I opened my eyes all I could see were here eyes inches from my own, “Wakey, wakey, the game must go on…my turn.” She was bouncing once again from her seat as she picked her card from the bottom of the floating pile. “Clubs again!” she squealed.
I could feel my ribs aching from her blows and breathing full breaths were difficult and painful so I resorted to small shallow breaths instead. Bruises had to be forming were she beat the wind out of me; maybe even a few broken bones.
This time she snapped her fingers and a short black flogger appeared in her hands. This wasn’t any ordinary flogger, it had what looked like fish hooks dangling from each of the leather tassels.
“Oh Lord no! Please don’t,” I cried out, “I can’t take anymore, please stop. I’ll do whatever you want, anything!” I begged for my life, afraid of what she was planning.
“But we’ve only just started,” she said while batting her eyelashes at me and pouting her lips.
She moved down to my feet, running her nasty nails down my legs. The old lantern floating above us moved with her, illuminating her efforts. I lifted my head off the table to better see what she was getting ready up to do to me, “Who was your blonde friend?” she asked catching me off guard.
“Just a friend of mine since college,” I replied in a somewhat calm voice, despite my labored breathing not wanting to upset her further. I did catch that she said was, as in past tense, it scared me. What did she do to Todd? I couldn’t even imagine.
A scream of fury came out of her mouth just as the flogger tips smacked the side of my calf and gripped my flesh with it pinchers piercing my skin. I wailed out in pain as she pulled the flogger free from its violent hold of my soft skin. “What’s his name?” she asked with venom dripping from her words. I didn’t want to give up his name in fear that she would seek him out if she hadn’t already so I quickly pulled a random name out of my head offering it to her to throw her off course.
“James…James Morley,” I said as confidently as I could, while blood slowly oozed out of the puncture wounds in my skin, I could feel the warmth on my skin and the burning pain that I couldn’t reach to soothe.
“Liar!” she yelled while she swung the flogger down on my other leg, rapidly and pulling it free in one motion. She repeatedly beat my legs until I muttered out his name in desperation for her beating to halt, which I suspect was her plan to begin with.
“Todd…LeKlare,” I muttered out in desperation.
“You’re either incredibly stubborn or equally stupid.” She said while rubbing my blood along her jaw and down her neck.
“What do you want from me? I’ll give you anything you want, please…God just stop this.” I had to try to get her to stop; the throbbing pain was enormous and was making me sick. She was acting as if this was just a simple party with tea and crumpet’s.
She stared at me blankly then spoke in a kind and tender tone, almost seductive. If I’d known she wasn’t so sadistic—I couldn’t finish the thought before the torturous beating stick came down on my ankles.
“I will not ease your pain,” she danced around the table.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I began to cry, this woman was breaking me down; literally. The fierce pain shooting up my legs was unbearable.
“You know,” she paused long enough to ponder my question, “I haven’t quite decided why. Mostly for fun really but I guess to teach you a lesson.” Her careless attitude pissed me off, sending me into a raging fury.
“What lesson? That you’re a crazy psycho bitch with a grudge?” I couldn’t help myself, but I should have known better.
She threw the flogger to the floor and angrily pulled at her hair before scratching her nails down my face. I could feel my skin split open under them. It burned, but didn’t compare to the pain she inflicted next.
She shoved the tip of her finger into one of my open cuts on my calf. Like an inch worm her finger squirmed and wiggled. She licked her fingers and continued prodding my cut until the skin tore open further.
I shrieked and groaned fearing she wouldn’t stop unless I did. Pain was the name of this game. I bucked against my restraints to no avail, and screamed out begging for mercy but my pleading fell on deaf ears.
She moved over to the sink and withdrew a wooden bowl. Flittering about the cupboards, pouring spices into it. When she finally finished, her eyes sparkled like Christmas lights. She pulled the dagger from her waist band and sliced my side open, then dumped the contents on the open wound. I screamed out as I felt my blood soaking under me and the wound feeling like a thousand red ants were eating me from the inside out. My vision was getting blurry as the concoction she put on me crept into my blood streaming.
“Now, you listen here,” she tried to say over my agonizing screams of torture but she quickly became irritated and placed a piece of flannel shirt into my mouth as a gag. I could taste the copper saltiness of blood on the fabric. It wasn’t my shirt, so I knew it wasn’t my blood. I tried to focus and push the my pain threshold down but the question of whose shirt it belonged to kept breaking through my concentration. “You must keep quiet.”
No sooner was I then feeling ice cold liquid dripping down between my eyes from a floating glass pitcher with substance I didn’t recognize. No matter which way I turned my head the liquid splashed me as if it was tethered to my face; when I turned, it moved with me.
“Liste,” she said as she smoothed her pointed finger down my lips, “I’m only going to punish you.” She ran her cheek along mine, “The more hate your words drip…the fiercer I’ll be.” She bit my bottom lip with her rank smelling breath until blood spilled from the tiny teeth imprints.
The flames from the fire place sparked and sizzled, catching my attention; she was stirring a pot hanging above the embers, when I regained consciousness again. She brought the ladle to my mouth, cupping it with her hand, carefully not spilling its contents as if it were prized chili. “Here you go honey,” she said sweetly inching it closer to my swollen lips. The smell began to waft over the ladle into my face. It smelled putrid. I turned my head away from her, hoping the dripping liquid still above me annoyingly would wash away some of the smell. With the back of her hand she slapped my face and let out a guttural growl, “EAT DOG!” she yelled at me, pinching my cheeks together with one hand. She shoved the ladle into my mouth, chipping a tooth in the process. It tasted like cooked garbage with a dash of rotting meat. I spit out what I could. I vomited the rest that managed to seep down my throat.
Her evil laugh was back as she began undressing. Throwing her top to the floor she revealed her pale white skin and it reminded me of a snake’s underbelly. Shoving her skirt down, she stepped out of it, kicking it out of her way. She started at my feet climbing her way up my ragged body, yanking my pants down as she continued.
She squealed with little girl embarrassment when my body parts became exposed to her. Once she was straddled over me she started rubbing her hands up my body, lingering at the bloody holes she created. Poking her fingers into each one, as a reminder to me I guess. With each scream that escaped my lips, she grew more excited as her hips started grinding into me. She leaned forward licking my blood from my split lip. When my body didn’t respond like she wanted it too she plunged her fingers deeper into my wounds.
I don’t remember much after that as I kept passing out. At one point her hands were covered in my blood and she was rubbing them all over her body. My blood intoxicated her.
To this day, I’m thankful that I’m still alive and I don’t have a single scar on my body, but she still haunts me from time to time with her evil child-like laughing the echo’s in my house. I will never forget my mistress of torture on that fateful night, alone in my bed. I know now that she will never be able to hurt me anymore, she will only continue to haunt my nightmares, which is where we met.
Picture of Helena: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bellatrix_Lestrange01.jpg
Note: This was a dream I had after watching Paranormal Activity and Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows. Needless to say the elements are there. This isn’t something I’d normally post or that I normally think of or write about. But as everything else reguarding my writing, I must write the story regardless if I want to or not. The story will linger in my head until I get out and it becomes all consuming. So being that the naturre of this story is to troublesome, I wanted it out of my head.
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