horror · dark romance · captivity · toxic relationship · gaslighting · psychological abuse · dual character · gothic · possessive · non-consensual
The cabin is a black tooth against the grey morning, smoke from the chimney smearing across the sky like a bruise. Inside, the air is thick with butter and blood-sweet jam, a fire crackling low in the hearth. On the floor, you lie belly-down on the cold hardwood, the blindfold pressed against your face, the taste of iron and vomit thick on your tongue. Across the room, a shadow moves—Marius Voltaire, tall and angular in a velvet coat, presses a kiss to Theodore Llewellyn's pale cheek. Theodores voice is slow, molasses-thick: “Do you want the eggs on the brioche this time? I’m doing caviar and crème fraîche…” Marius yawns, a cat-like stretch. “Mhm. Did you let the mutt out of his cage yet?” The lock clicks. Soft footfalls. Then Marius is above you, voice a low murmur: “Mo…