Chapter 23: Corrupted Heart: Chapter 23

The taxi pulls up in front of a luxurious building on Fifth Avenue.

There’s no excitement burning in my veins as I pay and step out. No nervous, anxious desire.

There’s only one man who stirs up those emotions in me.

And he’s a lying, cheating asshole.

Okay, maybe scratch the “cheating” part, because we never had any sort of formal discussion about our “terms”. But, I mean, call me old-fashioned: I sort of thought monogamy was implied when you got married to someone, barring any sort of other conversation.

Silly fucking me.

Regardless, here I am. God only knows why. A sour feeling curdles in my stomach as I approach the door to the building. But I pause just as the doorman bows and reaches for the front door. The hesitation has me turning to glance back at the taxi as it pulls away.

Just then, my phone dings.

Frowning, I pull it out of my bag. I swallow when I realize it’s a message from my Venom account, and my teeth rake over my bottom lip as I open it.

I hear a discreet honk behind me, and I whirl to see the black car waiting at the curb, apparently for me.

Woah, what.

Okay, yeah, that does it. That’s the smack of reality I need to shake me hard enough to snap out of whatever insanity I was just descending into.

I don’t want this. I don’t want some random guy, And I really don’t want to play some sleight-of-hand bullshit involving multiple cars to unknown locations.

I close my eyes and exhale as I drop my head back.

I bark a bitter laugh aloud.

He’s silent for a minute. Oh well. Hey, the app is anonymous.

Wow. My husband might be a selfish asshole. But when a random internet stranger who was prepared to chase me and fuck me offers me a free ride home after I cancel on him, I guess that’s a little bit of faith in humanity restored.

Well, shit. And they say chivalry is dead.

I thank DarkHearted1 again and walk over to the car. The door is already open, so I slip in and close it. I say hi and give a little wave to the mustachioed driver with longish hair and sunglasses. He barely acknowledges me, just gives me a formal nod in the rearview mirror when I give him directions to the café around the corner from Kratos’ brownstone.

I blow air out through my lips as the car pulls away from the curb.

Okay, there’s a small chance I may have overreacted earlier. Yes, it was jarring to see that woman walk out looking like that, and basically telling me she’d just screwed him. But who knows? Maybe she’s just some petty ex-girlfriend or someone he rejected being shitty now that he’s married. Really, when I think about her again, she did look a lot older than him.

I groan as I drop my head back onto the headrest behind me. When the hell did I get like this? So trigger-happy with my emotions, and so impulsive, and so…jealous?

Of course, the answer is right there in front of me: it’s probably when I realized whatever this thing is with Kratos was way more than just a twisted, fucked-up game.

When I realized it wasn’t just that I wanted him to chase me. I wanted him to chase me.

As if on cue, my phone dings with a text.

I’m in the middle of typing “I met that woman when she was leaving our place. Can we talk about that?” when my phone dies.

Goddammit.

“Sorry, hi,” I lean forward to speak to the driver. “Do you have a charger up there? My phone died.”

He nods and holds out his hand. I give my phone to him, watching as he plugs it in to the USB cable up front. Then I sink back into the seat as we drive⁠—

Wait.

“Excuse me, are you going uptown?”

When I glance out the window, I realize I’m right. I’m starting to recognize spots I know on the Upper West Side.

“Sorry, sir?” I say, concern lacing my voice. “I need to go downtown. I’m going to the Lower East Side?”

The driver doesn’t respond. He takes a turn that leads us to an on-ramp to the West Side Highway, going north. Anxiety pools in my stomach as my pulse quickens.

“Sir!” I exclaim. “Sir, you’re going the wrong way.”

The driver still doesn’t say a thing, and my nerves begin to shred.

“I’d like to get out now, please,” I choke, fear creeping up my throat. “Right here is fine.”

The car begins to accelerate.

“Let me out!” I yell. “Pull over! Right here! I want to get out!”

The doors lock.

“LET ME⁠—!”

The partition between us rises, imprisoning me in the locked cell of the back of the town car as it accelerates even more.

“LET ME OUT!” I scream, pure panic and adrenaline exploding through my system. I yank off my seatbelt and lurch forward to the divider, pounding on it hard. “FUCK YOU!” I yell. “LET ME⁠—”

“Sit down.”

I jolt violently, gasping as a horrifyingly creepy, metallic, robotic voice rasps through a speaker.

“I—”

“I said sit the FUCK down.”

“Fuck you!!!” I scream at the divider. I whirl back and start to pound on one of the side windows. Then I take off one of my heels and try and use that to smash it. I yelp when the shoe slips and my bare knuckles slam against the unyielding glass instead.

“Sit down.” The robotic voice is tinny through the speaker. “If I have to ask again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

It feels like I’ve been slapped. All the fight goes out of me as my adrenaline is replaced by crippling, paralyzing fear.

“Please,” I whisper, sinking back into my seat again. My arms wrap around myself protectively. “Where are you taking⁠—”

“You’ll see.”

Suddenly, the windows start getting darker, like the tint is getting stronger. I turn to stare helplessly out the window as the highway outside fades to black.

I have no idea how long we drive. Maybe an hour? But when the car stops, it’s completely silent outside.

No city noise. No sounds of other cars, like we’re at a gas station or a rest stop.

Nothing.

The driver’s door opens, then shuts with a muffled thunk. Footsteps crunch on what sounds like dried leaves outside, coming to a stop right next to my door. The windows are still blacked out, and I can’t see a thing.

My pulse thuds as I slowly back away from the door, my breath coming shallowly as I press myself into the far corner of the car, staring at the door, waiting for him to yank it open and rip me out.

The seconds tick by. Then minutes. Then what feel like several more. I swallow the lump in my throat, my breath still shaky and ragged as my eyes dart around the back seat of the town car.

“Hello?” I whisper quietly. I shudder, clearing my throat. “Hello?” I say again, louder this time, waiting for something. Anything. Even for my abductor to laugh at me, honestly. Anything to give me any idea of what’s going on.

There’s nothing.

I grab the door behind me to pull myself up from the little ball I’ve curled into. When I do, my fingers slip over the door handle, pulling it.

The door clicks and suddenly swings wide.

With a gasp, I half-fall, half-scramble out. I whirl, almost expecting the mustachioed driver to be waiting to lunge at me. When I don’t see him, I scrape up all my courage and creep around to the other side of the car, to see if he’s crouched down and waiting.

But no. I’m alone.

I shiver in the cool air, rubbing my arms and glancing around. My chest tightens as a cold, dangerous shiver drags a blade up my spine.

I’m alone in the woods.

There’s not a single light. Not from a house, not from a streetlamp. Nothing. Shuddering, my eyes widen, trying to see into the darkness. I’m in a small clearing, the car parked at the end of a little, barely-paved road, a driveway to nowhere. There’s nothing here—just a dead end, the clearing, and the vast, dark woods, looming and leering down at me.

Raw fear knots in my stomach. I whip around, my breath coming fast as my eyes stab into the shadowy, inky blackness. There’s no sign of the driver, but then a thought hits me, and suddenly, I’m yanking the driver’s side door open to see if the keys are…

No.

But what I do see chills me to the bone.

Laid across the driver’s seat is a longish male wig, a glue-on fake mustache, dark sunglasses…

My eyes widen, a cold, eviscerating feeling stabbing into my gut.

And a black and white photo of me, walking out of the stage door of the Mercury Theater.

A snapping sound, maybe a stick breaking, sends my heart into my throat. I whirl as panic chemicals flood my system. My heart rate goes through the roof, my skin prickling to a million goosebumps as a wrenching shiver claws up my neck.

Another snap, from the woods at the other side of the clearing this time.

I start to pant, my breath shallow and disjointed. My pulse skips, and my skin turns clammy and cold.

What the fuck is this.

“H-hello?” I croak.

In the distance, an owl hoots. Something small rustles in a nearby tree.

A stick cracks violently behind me.

I whirl again, feeling my throat close as panic sets in. I whip around to stab my gaze into the front seat of the town car. With a cry that I swallow back, I lurch across the driver’s seat and grab my phone, which is still plugged into the charger.

It’s even on.

My hands shake as I snatch it out and scramble to unlock it.

Instantly, my hopes turn to ash in my hands.

There’s no cell signal.

I shiver violently.

I’m alone.

The sound of a heavy step in the underbrush near the edge of the clearing has my body shaking horribly as I whirl.

Actually, you’re not alone at all…

“Whoever you are,” I yell, my voice cracking as I back against the side of the car. “You should know that my family is extremely dangerous. They’re also wealthy, so⁠—”

“I’m not interested in your fucking money.”

Jesus H. Christ. The same metallic, robotically altered voice from the car rasps dementedly from the woods somewhere in front of me. My heart lurches as fear stabs in me. Even the fucking birds squawk and fly away as the monster speaks.

Not a fake monster with a pretend mask and an agreed-upon safe word.

A real one.

“I-I’m armed!” I stammer, my voice breaking. “I have a gun⁠—”

“No you fucking don’t.”

My skin crawls as I cling to the side of the car, my nerves shattering as my chest heaves. I glance down at my phone, open to my last text exchange with Kratos.

My mind races, trying to do the math. That was maybe an hour ago. By now, if I’m not home yet, or responding, maybe he’s out looking for me?

A second after the thought crosses my mind, giving me hope, that same hope is dashed to the ground.

He won’t be looking for you in the fucking woods an hour outside the city.

Not for days. Weeks, even.

Probably never.

“I—”

“Let’s play a game, little girl.”

I shudder, trembling as the voice comes from the shadows all around me.

“W-what’s the game?” I whisper.

“It’s called tag,” the monster growls. “And I’m IT.”

It happens in a millisecond. He roars the last word through whatever is changing his voice, and as he does so, I hear the snapping of twigs and the crunching of underbrush as a shadow comes lurching out of the woods right in front of me.

Humans have an inherent fight or flight response to danger, from the days when we were living in caves trying not to be eaten. When a saber tooth tiger leaps at you, you have two options: stay put and fight for your life, or turn and run and take your chances.

In the second that the monster storms out of the shadows, I make my choice. I turn and fucking run.

I want to scream, but I’m incapable of making a sound as I bolt away from the car and the man chasing me. My heels fall off and I kick them away. I wince and cry out in pain as I slam through the underbrush of the forest at the edge of the clearing and crash into the blackness.

The clearing was almost pitch dark, with the moon behind the clouds. Here in the trees, it’s like running through a black hole.

My pulse roars in my ears, and I keep my arms up in front of my face, flinching as they block the scrape and claw of branches that are trying to rip my face and snag my hair.

“Where are you, little girl…”

I choke back a scream when I hear him crashing through the brush behind me. I veer sharply to the right, pelting into the dark forest. I gasp, ducking at the very last minute to avoid running face-first into a low branch. It skins my elbow, though, and I cry out in pain.

“I can smell your fucking fear, little one.”

I swallow another scream, zigging left to crash through the trees. Maybe there’s something nearby. A rest stop, or a gas station. Even the road we took to get here. I mean, we’re only an hour at most outside New York. It’s not like we’re in the middle of nowhere.

Hope catches fire inside me as I whirl to the left and push and claw my way through the trees and snarled branches.

“Shall I tell you what happens when I catch you?”

I almost scream. Fuck me, he’s so close. Way closer than I thought he was, somewhere just to my right. I zig left, pushing myself, trying not to care about the underbrush slicing and ripping at my bare legs and the heavier branches arching to bash in my face.

“I’m going to fuck you till you bleed. I’m gonna hurt you, slut. I’m going to watch the light go out in your eyes as you choke on my fucking cock.”

There are games, and there are nightmares. And I’ve tripped over my own impulsiveness right into the latter.

I shouldn’t have run from the brownstone earlier. Shouldn’t have gone out. Shouldn’t have gone on the Venom site, and I definitely shouldn’t have engaged with that demented stranger.

Because there’s no question that’s who’s brought me here. Who’s chasing me.

Who wants to hurt me, for real.

Panic surges through me as I crash down a small embankment and hide behind an uprooted tree. I pull out my phone, hoping against hope…

Oh my God.

I have one bar of service.

I can hear metallic snarling and the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs, like my attacker is getting closer.

I don’t have much time. Or more than a prayer of a chance. But it’s something. In the one millisecond I have, I text Kratos a map pin of my location. I wait, watching the send bar load tortuously slowly because of the almost no service.

But it goes through.

I jam my phone into my bag and force myself to get up. With a choked cry, I fling myself through the trees, running as fast as I can and trying to ignore the pain in my bare feet.

Praying that the break in the trees I think I can see ahead will open up to a road, or a house, or anything.

With a last gasp, I crash out of the woods and into a dark clearing.

Instantly, I go still and my heart drops.

I’m right back where I started.

“Too bad.”

I scream as I whirl. The energy is draining from my aching muscles as I back away. Slowly, the branches move. A dark shadow emerges, stalking toward me.

The clouds begin to part, and a faint glow from the moon begins to bleed across the clearing. The man moves toward me, brimming with darkness and pure malice. He steps into the hazy, pseudo-light, and my throat seizes up as pure, stabbing fear cuts into me.

Jeans. Black boots. A black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, and a mask. Not the one Kratos wears that I know and am addicted to. No, this one is almost pure black, with just two pale, grayish-white circles, one larger than the other, where the eyes should be.

The moonlight washes over his mask, and I choke on my fear.

Not circles. Buttons. The psycho has two mismatched buttons haphazardly sewn onto the all-black mask, leering at me as he stalks toward me.

A last jolt of fear gives me one final burst of energy. I whirl and run. The crunching, crashing sound of his heavy boots on the dry leaves behind me makes me scream. I can hear the metallic breathing rasping through his mask as he gets closer and closer, the sheer violence of him washing over my back like toxic radiation.

Suddenly, pain explodes across my scalp.

I cry out in agony as the monster grabs my hair in a fist and wrenches me around. I tip sideways, falling off balance as I slam into the side of the town car with a bruising thud.

Pain explodes through my hip and my ribs. Instantly, he’s on me, snarling and growling like a beast. I choke on pure adrenaline and fear as he pins me to the car. I scream when I look up into his dark, uncaring, unflinching black mask. My hands flail and claw, smacking and scratching at his face. He snarls viciously and slaps me back, shoving me up against the side of the car.

I’m not going down without a fight.

My knee jerks up, catching him in the balls.

“That was fucking foolish,” the stranger snarls demonically.

I cry out as he roughly grabs my breasts, ripping my club dress down before brutally pinching a nipple and twisting, hard. I wince, sobbing out a choked cry before he lets go only to slap my bare nipple, sending a zap of pain and, horrifically, something electric through my core.

I flail at him, but his hand suddenly juts out, wrapping tight around my throat. He tweaks and slaps my other nipple, wrenching a sob from my lips.

Suddenly, my mind goes blank for half a second, and my thoughts go somewhere else.

To another chase, with another monster.

Say the word, babygirl, and this all ends.

“ORANGE”! I scream the word DarkHeart1 gave me before for a safe word, hoping to God this man is just too fucking nuts or too wrapped up in his own fantasy to realize that I do not want to do this.

But nothing happens.

“ORANGE!” I scream again as best I can with the hand around my throat. “ORANGE! ORANGE! ORA⁠—”

The monster laughs roughly through the mask.

“How fucking adorable that you think I give a single fuck about your so-called safe word.”

Oh God.

He spins me brutally and roughly shoves me down across the hood of the car. I scream as he pins my cheek to the still-warm metal, his fist in my hair. He grabs the back of my dress with his other hand, and pure fear and revulsion lance into me as he yanks it up, exposing my bare ass.

He slaps it, hard.

“Orange…” I sob. “Orange⁠—”

He slaps my ass again. Then suddenly, he’s cupping my pussy through my panties.

“Whose fucking pussy is this.”

I scream, my chest hitching as the fear pierces my heart.

“I asked you a fucking question, slut,” the voice snarls.

“Orange…”

I whimper as something lands on the hood of the car next to my face. My eyes focus, and I shudder when I realize he’s taken off his mask and flung it there.

“Whose fucking pussy is this, babygirl.”

The whole universe freezes. Gravity inverts. My entire reality flickers like a glitch in the matrix.

For a long second or two, I can’t move. Talk. Even think. All I can do is try to process it all.

How it’s possible.

The fear was so fucking real⁠—

I cry out when Kratos’ palm smacks my ass hard again and then roughly cups my pussy through my panties. He starts to rub me savagely, the friction making my clit raw as his fist tightens in my hair.

I’m soaking his fingers in a nanosecond.

It’s as if the last hour of panicked fear thinking I was actually about to get raped and killed in the woods all hits me at the same time. But with him here, pulling me out of the nightmare and baptizing me in my fucked-up fantasy, it all gets turned into pure desire.

I don’t just want him. I literally, physically need him right now.

I cry out as Kratos yanks my thong aside. He brutally rams two fingers into my soaking wet pussy, wrenching a cry from my throat as my back arches.

“I asked you a fucking question, slut,” he snarls, yanking my hair tight. “Whose fucking pussy is this!?”

“YOURS!” I sob. “It’s⁠—!”

He pulls out his fingers and rams his huge cock in to the fucking hilt. The breath leaves my body in a rush, my hips bruising hard against the side of the car. My raw, brutalized nipples drag across the metal as he grabs my hip and starts to fuck me, violently.

Viciously.

Punishingly.

I scream, my toes curling against the dirt and my legs shaking as Kratos fucks the living shit out of me.

“I fucking own this slutty cunt, babygirl. This is my fucking pussy. SAY IT.”

I sob as I claw at the hood of the car, drowning in the twisted pleasure he’s wringing from my body.

“Yours!” I cry out. “All yours!”

“Mine and only mine,” he snarls.

He slaps my ass one last time before he pulls out. I whimper as he flips me over without warning and shoves me up onto the hood. My thighs are slapped apart, and I gasp as he wraps his fingers around my throat and shoves me back across the hood, pinning me there as he lines his fat cock up with my eager, soaking wet hole.

My back arches violently off the hood as he rams into me. When I open my eyes, they lock with his in the stark shadows of the inky blackness and the pale moonlight.

There’s no mask between us. No walls.

Just us.

His lips curl like one possessed as he fucks into me, the sloppy wet sounds filling the little clearing. His hand slides from my neck, slipping down to slap my breasts again and maul and brutalize my nipples in ways that have me gushing all over his cock. He slaps at my face, pulls my hair, and shoves his fingers into my mouth, watching me suck them greedily as he fucks me like a wild animal.

Staking his claim. Rutting into his mate. Making me his. Owning me.

Destroying me.

His thumb slides between my lips, thrusting in and out of my mouth as I moan and whimper.

“There’s my greedy little whore,” he snarls. “There’s my good little slut.”

His massive cock rams into me, pushing so deep it feels like he’s in my throat. Like he’s running me through. Like I might never walk properly again.

Worth it.

He keeps his thumb between my lips as his huge fingers splay out, cupping my jaw and wrapping around my slender neck. His pace gets harder, faster, rougher and more manic. My vision blurs at the edges, and I gasp as my eyes roll back and I open my mouth from around his thumb, screaming and screaming and screaming for the monster snarling above me, leering down into my face as he shoves me over the brink and into oblivion.

No. Not “the” monster.

My monster.

My beast.

My husband.

My love.

Fuckkk.

With a shudder and a wrenching cry, my core clenches tight and spasms. My spine bends back into an arc as my hips rise, and when I explode for him, it’s like being reborn.

Kratos yanks me up and crushes his lips to mine. He rams into me, holding his huge cock all the way inside of me as he comes over and over, spilling his hot cum deep within me as I crumble to dust around him, lost in his lips.

Lost in our sweetest madness.