When His Love Became My Torture

Anders

ony of pure, unadulterated agony. It was a white-hot, tearing pain, as if my skin was being flayed alive, cell by agonizing

rno. I scrambled, blindly, desperately, trying to wipe away the burning liquid, but only

ly able to support me. I staggered forward, a desperate, broken thing, pushing through the alleyway, every step a fresh wave of agon

gripping the metal. The door swung open, and I fell inside, slamming it shut behind me. The

nt sending fresh jolts of pain through my body. The fabric clung to my raw skin, ripping aw

under it, fully clothed at first, then tearing off the rest of my garments. The icy spray hit my hands, and a sharp, piercing scream tore from my lips. It was an involuntary sound,

at on my hands had receded to a persistent, throbbing dullness. My entire body trembled, wrung out

ached. My head pounded. My heart felt hollowed out. The exhaustion was absolute, a

ast thing to do. My plan. It wasn't just a

mpartment in my closet. I pulled out a small, unassuming wooden box. Inside were careful

es, in that picture, had been full of an adoration that now seemed impossible. He had carved that small wooden bird for me

caving in. The happy memories, once my solace, now twisted into instruments of tortu

ead connecting me to that miserable exis

rip was a deliberate act of exorcism. The letters followed, their tender words now meanin

ll of burning paper filled the room, a morbid incense to a love long dead. It wasn't just paper burning; it was my last

rom the living room. The front d

me, then on my bloodied, acid-burned hands, then to the smoking bin of ashes. His expression

king a step toward me,

The memory of his hands on me, his cruel shove, the unfeeling st

nto the smoldering ashes. "What have you done?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. He strode over, kickin

words bitter on my tongue. "And you destro

rying to erase everything, playing the victim with your... your little charade!" His ey

dic burns on my wrist. I shrieked, a raw, animal sound,

g down my face, not from sorrow, but from p

th ice. "You think you know pain? You think this is pain? You think this will make me pity you? You tried to frame Kas

arse, desperate. "Kasey set me up! All I w

done? After what you've tried to take from me?" His eyes scanned th

nd ripping through the silence. "This is what you are. A destroyer. A user. A parasite." His face was inches from min

face, my trembling, scarred hands. "And now," he whispered, his voice dangerously soft, "now you' re not even pretty enough t

rutal force that lifted me off my feet. I g

me?" I cried, my voi

is voice devoid of emotion. "A place where you can think abo

remembered existed. The air grew colder, heavier. A faint, metallic smell filled

but with thick leather straps and an ominous, metallic helmet fitted with several wires an

eaking. "I'll do anything! I'll leave!

ing my wrists and ankles. My acid-burned hands throbbed in agony as the leather tight

possessive madness. "Forever. And if I can't have you the wa

ers hovering over a series of dials a

I screamed, my voice l

smirk playing on his lips, "is for your stubbornne

oded with pain, a thousand tiny hammers pounding against my brain. My vision blurred, colors bleeding into each other. My b

ng at my mind and body simultaneously. My scream was swallowed by the deafening f

go, on our wedding day, his eyes full of love, whispering, "Addy, my lo

desperate plea, escaped my lips, a voice fr

illed with a raw confusion. "Who... who is Curtis?" He looked at the machine, then back at me, his face pale, a flicker of something almost like fear in his eyes. He quickly shut o