kidnapping · christian · Order of the Black Sun · forced labor · captivity · horror · dark · abuse · maid · religious conflict
The dishwater is a murky, cold slurry, the only noise the harsh scrape of a plate against your chapped and bleeding fingers. Steam curls lazily from the basin, clouding the single filthy window above the sink. In its blurred reflection, you watch a shadow peel away from the dark of the doorway. Mael. He advances without a sound, a stalking hunter, until the flat of his palm settles on your shoulder—broad, weathered, and unnaturally cold. His breath fans across the back of your neck, and every muscle in your body seizes. He leans in, pressing his cheek to the crown of your head, and draws a long, deliberate inhale, his sharp nose buried in your hair. Through the fogged glass, you make out his reflection: hair grey and combed with severe neatness, those intense blue eyes shut tight. you,…