Here, night is eternal. The shadows are always looming, always thickening. The darkness is never-ending. The evil is ominous.

I cannot remember when all this began. My memories, as vague as they are, do not reach back to the start of this. I don't remember my life before this, or anything before Him. It is like nothing ever happened, like I did not exist, before He somehow captured me and brought me here, changing me forever.

I used to make scratch marks on the wood floor to keep track of time, but I forgot if they meant hours, days or months. I stopped counting when I realized I would never escape Him.

I remember that at first I was strong: I thought I had the strength in me to escape. I thought all He did was disgusting and sickening, and it would never appeal to me. I thought I could resist Him.

But like Hell I was wrong.

When I started seeing that His strength over-powered mine, when I realized His darkness had spread onto me, infecting me, I began forgetting. I started to forget many things: my life, the faces of my family and friends, hope, faith, etc. . . I even started forgetting my own name.

At first it was scary; but soon the fear faded when I saw it was doing me no good. From that point on, I simply became like an empty shell, occasionally lustful, hateful or confused, depending on the situation.

And He saw this change in me. He saw how He had made me: empty, cold, and twisted, just like He was. From the moment I became a void, I became like Him, enjoying everything He did to me, no matter how painful or humiliating it might have once seemed.

I am now His toy; I am now His slave. And yet once, I was someone. . .

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The small room was dark, lit only be the flickering, insecure flame of a single torch, which sent shivering shadows into every corner. The hard, cold wood floor shone in the pale light, and the bare walls rose high to a dark ceiling. This was her room.

Sitting in the corner furthest from the door, hunched on a pile of blankets used as a bed, she sat. Her thin, pale arms were wrapped around her equally thin legs and her back was arched, allowing her chin to rest on her knees. If her dark, empty eyes had not been open, reflecting the light of the torch, she would have seemed asleep, or dead.

Waist-long, pure black hair fell over her entire back, snaking over her white tank top like coiling snakes. Her skin was almost a milky white, which was the result of a very long time spent locked up in this room, never seeing daylight. For it had been far over a year since she had last seen the light of day.

The girl sighed gently. The continued staring vaguely at the wall, enjoying the silence and emptiness of her mind.

But out of the calm, there suddenly came a faint noise. The girl's head snapped up, and she blinked, as if emerging from a deep dream. She turned her head to the dark door and listened intently for another sound.

The noise repeated itself, and this time, she heard the words that were spoken. . .

"No! Please, no! I'll do anything, just don't do. . .NO! Please! Please!" It was the shrill voice of a young girl. . .

Her head fell back down to her knees, and she rested her chin on them. There was as scream, and more desperate pleading that broke the silence.

"Why do they scream?' The girl wondered aloud. 'No one can hear them, and it just makes Him like hurting them more. . . He loves it when they scream and fight. . .don't they see it?"

Her eyes became sad. She wondered for a moment, why she had been here, with Him, for so long. All the other girls, He had kept them for no longer than a month, having His fun with them and then killing them. . .but she had been here so long. . .why had He kept her?

The other girl screamed shrilly again, begging Him to stop. She knew what He was doing to her. . .she could see His hands trailing down the soft, innocent body of the young woman, nails digging painfully into the flesh, as a cool smirk drawn on His perfect features. . .

"NO! STOP, PLEASE! DONT DO THIS! NO! OH FUCKING PLEASE NO!" The other girl screamed and suddenly, all her noises were cut short.

There was not a sound, and she knew that the girl was dead. She could already see her velvet blood dripping from a deep wound, and His eyes trailing over her bare body, following, fascinated, the thick red liquid as it traced its way down. . .down. . .

She looked up at the torch, and watched the delicate flame flicker softly. Suddenly, from the corridor beyond her room, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing and then, heavy footsteps slowly making their way to her room.

The girl uncurled her leg legs and set them on the floor. She sat back calmly and rested her back against the wall. The footsteps became slowly louder, until they reached her room; there, they stopped.

He was there, and she knew it. Yet she was not afraid. . .

"Aimee. . ." He called gently, and the sound of a key turning in the door's lock could be heard.

Aimee waited patiently for the man to enter, almost eager about what He was going to do to her. . .

(0)

Yeah, I know it's short. More up soon.