The Monster's Addiction (Completed)

Chapter 6

MIA

I writhed and struggled for sanity, fighting the furious storm inside my head. I cried and begged, I pleaded for mercy—for years—but I was already doomed. My life was snatched away mercilessly a long time ago, and all that was left were—flesh and bones.

Just a body without a soul.

So why was this man hell-bent on saving a dead soul?

The drug withdrawal had already started kicking in, driving me insane. I was slowly descending into a bottomless pit—dark and condemned—and forced to live and suffer. I remembered how the woman...the doctor told me to have ‘patience and persistence’. Easier said than done, I scoffed mentally.

I would never dare to hope that things would get better. Hope was a luxury I couldn’t afford. And normal life was a distant dream while I lived nightmares every moment of every day for the past two years. With every beating I received, every r**e I survived — I had wished that the life would just snub out of me. But it didn’t.

The door flew open, and Viktor entered with a tray of food. He came forward and settled down on the bed beside me.

Was he going to let me eat by myself? I wondered.

But he read my thoughts pretty quickly and shook his head. “No, you’re exactly going to stay in that position while I feed you. I am tired of you running around and not to mention, I am extremely hungry. So just do me a favor – open your mouth and chew.”

He picked up the food with the fork, and he lifted it to my lips. I didn’t feel like initiating any disconcerting conversation at that moment and silently did as I was ordered. I knew it would be fruitless to beg for the drugs as he made it perfectly clear that he was not going to give it to me.

While he busied himself feeding me, I wondered why a man like him would pick up a broken girl like me from a hellhole. It wasn’t for charity. It wasn’t for lust either. If he wanted to sexually abuse me or r**e me—as my previous captors did—he would have done that already in the bathroom. But there was concern and compassion in those eyes, as against lust.

Why would a man like Viktor Romano, so fierce and powerful with an air of dominance and authority around him be interested in keeping me? There was nothing about me that could have appealed to him. I was nothing but a burden. So why did he chose to care for me? Why was he feeding me despite being hungry himself?

The more I pondered, the crazier I felt. It was impossible for me to concentrate on anything as everything was becoming a haze. My clarity of thoughts was utterly destroyed due to drugs as various hallucinating sounds keep echoing, driving me crazy. Sometimes the heartbeat started pumping like a hummingbird while all other times, the body went numb – as if I was dead already.

When my body begged for drugs, I couldn’t find solace in anything. Every time Antonio injected me, I knew he was going to use me mercilessly. But I was glad for the drugs.

Viktor gave me some medicines, promising that it would ease my pain. I wondered how much he knew that goes inside the body of a drug addict when the person was denied of it.

“Do you need to use the bathroom?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

I simply nodded.

He released my hands and legs, which were too sore from stretching out for such a prolonged duration. While I had to put a great effort to stand up on my own, and slowly walking towards the bathroom on wobbling legs, I heard his dead, cold voice from behind and halted mid-way.

“You have five minutes only. If you don’t come out by then, I’ll simply barge in and drag you out. The door remains open. I won’t be peeking inside, so don’t bother yourself.”

I didn’t bother to turn around. I nodded and slowly walked into the bathroom.

I splashed water on my face and placed my bruised wrists under the running cold water. For a moment, I considered sitting down alone in the bathroom, but I knew it would only irk his temper. The last thing I wanted was his wrath upon me.

Meekly, I came back to the bed and sat down beside him with my head hung low. I noticed he had already finished eating. He was definitely famished, considering how quickly he gobbled up the food.

Viktor placed a finger under my chin and lifted my face. He studied me for some time, letting his intense stare hover all over my face and taking note of my fears and vulnerabilities. And I felt exposed more than ever. I tightly shut my eyes to avoid his eyes, but the monster holding me was exacting.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered, his voice slightly gruff.

I did open my eyes but cast it down. A small tug under my chin forced my eyes to meet his arctic blue stare as I swallowed the massive lump in my throat. He looked stern but not ruthless. His eyes spoke of weird emotions I had not encountered in years – and honestly, I had no idea what to feel.

Life was definitely funny.

For two years I'd burned in hell, enduring the agonizing pain and praying for a miracle. And here I was – trapped inside the Monster’s lair who was hell-bent on curing me. He was trying to give me hope—some kind of silver lining—in his own dark and twisted ways.

But the darkness I nurtured within myself deepened with every passing day. I wasn’t meant to be saved. I was meant to be destroyed. Little did the Monster know...

This man had a smouldering soul himself—dark, deep and mysterious. There was everything dangerous about him, yet I craved the thrill. Whether it was my crazy mind or my greedy heart—I didn’t know.

“Would you like to lie down for a bit?” he asked, suddenly his tone was gentle.

I nodded.

“Alright. Lie down then.” He reached out to grab the handcuffs and glanced at me.

“Please...please don’t do that,” I pleaded. Viktor himself wasn’t keen on chaining me down as I saw him hesitate for a moment.

He dipped his chin slightly. “Can you promise not to run away again?”

“I have nowhere to go,” I mumbled, lowering my eyes in defeat.

The statement was as accurate as it gets. My step-father sold me away for money after my mother died. So I was homeless and without a family.

On top of that, I was a drug addict.

So even if I ran away, where would I end up? Another whorehouse?

Viktor stepped forward, closing the distance between us. He took hold of my shoulders in his grip, and I immediately snapped out of my thoughts. “You can stay here as long as you want. But,” —he gave me a slight, sharp glare— “no drugs. You’re not going to kill yourself like that.”

My mouth twisted into a wry smile. “You’ve no idea,” I whispered, blinking back the tears.

“I know,” he murmured, surprisingly in a soft voice.

His fingers were caressing my tear-stained cheeks. The slightly rough hands felt surprisingly gentle when he ran it over my cheeks, jawline and encircled the smooth column of my throat.

I didn’t flinch, I didn’t shudder. Instead, I leaned in and gave myself away to his touch.

Slowly, my breathing was turning deep and rhythmic under the warm waves radiating from his body.

Maybe it was the medicines he gave me or perhaps I was getting too comfortable and greedy with his touch, but either way, my thumping heartbeat regularized. For the slightest moment, I forgot I wanted the drugs so severely.

But suddenly a strong feeling of uncertainty washed over me. How long this blissful happiness would last?

“You’re over-thinking again.” The conviction in his voice forced my gaze to meet his eyes, and I stared in bewilderment.

“I-I am sleepy,” I blurted out in order to prevent myself from being exposed.

He was reading my thoughts, my body language, the deepest darkest fears I locked up somewhere in the corner of my mind. Slowly, he was opening the floodgates of my mind, and I knew this monster would be my undoing.

But mercifully, he didn’t prod any further. “Alright then,” he said, pushing my legs on the bed. “Let’s tuck you in. Mia, I am not tying you. I am going to let you sleep the way you want. But don’t make me regret this,” he warned in a low voice, and I gulped a knot in my throat.

I nodded and curled into a ball on the bed.

But Viktor he didn’t move. He stood there, studying me for a moment or two, and then pulled the covers on top of my body. How could a man like Viktor Romano—virile, ruthless and brutal—appear so effortlessly comforting to someone like me?

“Go to sleep, Mia. No one will hurt you,” the monster whispered. He stood over me like a guardian angel, watching me.

The monster had a heart, after all. I sighed.

And before I could ponder over the thought, the medicines kicked in and sleep engulfed me.