by LP Lovell
3
The limo rolls to a stop outside of a massive beach-front home. Lights from yachts and boats dot the horizon. The driver climbs out and opens my door, lending me his hand. I step onto the cobblestone drive and stare out over the dark waters of the Atlantic. The breeze blowing from the harbor rustles the skirt of my ball gown and the mask sits snug on my face. My heart rests in a lump in my throat because I don't feel safe with Three. There's an air of malice and poignant dignity that surrounds him, yet he lacks the dominance, the raw feel of power that Tobias so leisurely holds.
Three steps around the limo and holds out his arm. The mask he's wearing unnerves me. Dark and ghastly, the face of the beast is shaped with anger. Black paint covers the small bit of skin exposed through the eye slits of the mask, and his eyes—a cold blue, lifeless, corrupt in every sense yet they make me want to lose myself, give myself. I think I've gone mad...I must have by now, surely?
"Come, now, my sweet toy," he says, and we walk up the marble steps toward the double doors. Before we've even knocked, the entrance swings open and inside is a flurry of people in costume. Ball gowns and suits and masks. Classical music sifts through the air, and although I'm in a beautiful dress, I feel out of place.
A gentleman stops Three, his eyes darting over to me. Three whispers to him and a sick smile works over the man's lips.
He bows to me. "Best of luck then," he says before walking away. My heart pounds, skitters and skips as a sick heat washes over me. This is not right. Three is not right. He takes my hand and leads me through the crowded room toward the bar.
"What would you like? Champagne?" he asks.
"Yes, thank you."
He nods as we weave our way across the ballroom. As the crowd parts, I notice a man by the bar. His tailored suit fits just so, clinging to his broad shoulders. His dark hair is trimmed and styled. We stop next to him and Three leans against the bar, his cold eyes behind the mask shift from me to the man on the other side. I stand between them, my heart racing, my mind wandering. I nervously glance at the man to the right of me. He slowly turns to face me, the gold and midnight blue mask hiding his face is beautiful and eerie. It screams of power just as the murky eyes staring out from it do. Tobias. Relief washes over me, sending a relaxing buzz throughout my body. A slow smirk works over his painted lips.
“Little lamb, how I’ve missed you,” he says as he places his arm around my shoulder. I fall against him, relieved to find my safety, my haven. My protector. I pull the scent of him—money and that clean, spicy cologne—deep into my lungs. I don’t ever want to leave his side. I won’t…
“Now, Tobias,” Three says, his tone bristling, “tonight is my night with our little toy. You’ve had your fun with her for today. Day six is mine.” A low chuckle rumbles from Three’s chest and my hairs stand on end.
Tobias straightens up. I can feel the tension radiating from him as his hold on me tightens. He leans down next to my ear, his heated breath washing over my neck as he gently kisses my jaw. “Play with her Three, but she’s mine. Mind. Body. Soul. And two of those, you’ll never be able to take.”
His words wrap around me like a serpent, coiling tightly around my core. And it’s not that I belong to him that worries me—I want him to own me in every aspect of the word. I want to be weak for him. I long to make him weak for me, but I do not want Three to own any part of me. Ever.
“Oh,” Three grabs me around the waist, yanking me from Tobias, “ye of little faith.”
“Ask her,” Tobias says. “Ask her who she wants.”
“She doesn’t know what she wants.”
I want to speak up, but I know better with Three. Another man steps behind Tobias, a plain white mask and fine fitted suit. Long blonde hair brushes his shoulders and he looks like the prince in every fairy tale. I know better. “Now, now gentleman,” Preston says. “Play nice.”
Tobias’ green eyes have yet to move away from me. His chest rises and falls in an uneven swell before he places his hand on Preston’s shoulder.
“Why, whatever is the matter, Tobias?” Three asks, a slight growl to his tone. “This was, after all, a business arrangement.”
“And some business dealings don’t work out.” Tobias lifts his whisky to his lips and takes a swig. “Some partners aren’t worth having.” His gaze darts to Three, and Three laughs.
“Come on, Tobias…” Preston glances at me. “Game six, sweet Ella,” he says. “Only one more game.”
Tobias slowly moves his arm away from Preston and a small fissure of panic rips through me. Please don’t leave me… but, Tobias and Preston walk away, disappearing into the crowd of ball gowns and masks.
Three releases a sigh, but I don’t turn to look at him. I simply keep searching the crowd for Preston and Tobias, pretending that as long as they are near, nothing can harm me. Three can’t hurt me.
“Here, little toy. Drink up,” Three says, handing me a glass of champagne. I stare at the tiny bubbles fizzing their way to the top.
My gaze meets Threes and I my skin prickles. There’s a darkness veiled within his eyes. Some animalistic need that promises to tear me to shreds. So, I down my champagne, willing the alcohol to make me numb. A smirk plays over his lips and he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side as he leads me to the dance floor.
The music plays softly in the background and Three places his hand on the small of my back, tugging me close to him as he holds my other hand up for a waltz. And we dance, my dress moving so fluidly around me, catching in the wind our movements make. I stare into his eyes, trying to look beyond that horrid mask. The low hum of conversation swirls around me. Evening gowns and tuxedos. Men of power. Women of fortune. And isn’t this what every little girl dreams of? A ball fit for royalty. Money and riches—and while this may very well look like a fairy tale, it’s not the charming prince I’m dancing with. It’s the villain, the beast. I glance around and spot Tobias, his dark eyes watching, studying. His jaw tenses. Preston is by his side whispering in his ear and I wonder what he is saying. I wonder what they both are thinking as their prized possession is within the grasp of another. Three villians, no heroes, and a bloodied princess. And unlike most fairy tales, I don't believe that any of us are redeemable.
Three spins me and suddenly, the music seems to be coming from inside my mind. Each note serves as a sharp prick to my ears, a melodic trance that pulses through me. With each turn, the colors of the room swirl together like a watercolor that's not yet dry. Red and green and blue...and the warmth that suddenly overcomes me—I feel it. I see it, like the glow of a star distant in the night. Everything is distorted. Everything is wrong...My mouth grows dry.
"What's wrong, little toy?" Three whispers in my ear, his breath dances over my neck. "Not feeling well?"
I swallow, suddenly afraid I may swallow my tongue. My heart bangs in my chest like a caged bird desperate to be freed. Three tosses his head back on a sinister laugh and then—everything changes. His mask morphs and shapes, the eyes pointing in, the nose turning to a forked tongue and he coils around me like a snake, holding me in his arms and suffocating me. I struggle to break free. "Ella, calm down,” he says. “You're causing a scene.”
All I can think is Tobias. "I..." I stumble over my feet as I back away from Three, his cold eyes set on me like the prey that I am. "I want Tobias."
He laughs. "You don't know what you want."
"I...I..." I can't breathe. My vision shatters like glass, colors and shapes floating off like the sparks of a firework. Everywhere I turn, I look, there are monsters. Waiting with sharp teeth and claws. Dragons and lions, devils and ghosts—
"Ella," Three says with a snap, grabbing my arms and yanking me towards him. "They're only costumes."
I grab my head with both hands and close my eyes, but I can still see them all staring at me, their mouths watering. "Please," I beg. "Don't let them eat me."
His finger strokes over my cheek and he nestles his chin against the crook of my neck. "Now, n
ow. Calm down. It's only a party. We're only here for a little fun, to play a game if you will." He laughs again and it shakes me to my core.
My head spins or swims...and for a moment, it feels as if my feet aren't touching the ground. "Game six, Ella," Three whispers. "Are you game?"
"I...I can't...Something's very wrong."
"Oh yes," Three hisses as he rounds behind me, "something is very, very wrong. You love Tobias—a man who is incapable of love. A man who is above such trivial things. To him, you are nothing but a mere form of entertainment, a dirty little toy. And yet, you love him." He kisses along my jaw. "So foolish. So desperate. No wonder your last boyfriend tossed you away like garbage. You and your pathetic love are worthless." He spins me around to face him and trails his thumb over my bottom lip. "Worthless...but to me, you’d be more priceless than gold."
I want to run away. I want to crawl somewhere and hide. The music won't stop. The distorted visions. Three...I want it all to go away.
"Tell you what," he says. "Why don't you go to Tobias, see if he'll save you? Finding a way to save yourself, after all, it is the aim of game six. All you have to do is simply save yourself." I stare at him and he shoos me away with his hand. "Go find him, Ella, go find your knight in the blackest of armor. Go find your hero, see if he'll have you now. Now that the game is nearly done."
I back away a few steps before I spin on my heel and rush through the ballroom looking for Tobias. Looking for the gold and blue mask. I bump into people, tears building in my eyes. I shove through the crowd. With each passing second, my panic grows until it feels it may devour me. "Tobias?" I shout. "Tobias?" The room falls silent...or does it? Can I trust anything in the state of mind I'm in. Reality—does it even exist? "Tobias?"
And then, a hand grabs onto my shoulder, warm and soft. Secure. I turn around, the gold and blue mask bringing a sense of relief to me. I fall into him and cry against his suit, clutching to his lapel as though it is the only thing that can possibly ground me. Tobias threads his fingers through mine and silently leads me from the ballroom and down a long corridor lined with mirrors. I don't look at my reflection, I can't. We make our way up a staircase and down another hallway until we reach a room with a closed door. Tobias takes keys from his pocket and places one inside the lock, turning it and pushing open the door.
Inside is a massive bedroom. A four-poster bed sits against the back wall with white curtains draped around the frame.
"I...I just want to—"
Tobias places his finger over my lips, silencing my words before he causally shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it on the end of the bed. I swear it moves, it turns into a creature and crawls off the bed, slinking around the floor. I ignore it. This is madness...
Tobias unbuttons his dress shirt and pulls it off. Spiders scatter across his skin. What was in that drink? Down the rabbit hole...so far down, just like Alice.
Without a word, he grabs me and spins me around. I hear the zip to my dress and then feel the cool air hit my skin as he rips it off, then pushes me face-first onto the bed. His fingers skim over my ass, his touch like a fire, burning. He touches me. He groans. And then—I'm filled from behind. His hot cock thrusts inside me, the feeling so familiar, so learned...and I swallow. I fist at the sheets as he pounds into me. I hear voices and noises, and even with my eyes shut I see colors and prisms, shapes floating around. He feels so heavy pressed against me, so rough like if he could kill me by fucking me, he would.
"Don't be angry," I gasp between deep pumps. "Please."
"Shh," he says before his hand slaps over my ass.
His fingers dig into my hips and he pulls out, flipping my over to my back. Grabbing my ankles, he spreads my legs apart and slams back inside me. It should feel good, but it feels wrong. Off kilter. Rough and forced with the lack of raw lust he so easily possesses...I stare up at the gold outline of his lips, watching as he breathes. With each movement, the paint glints underneath the dim lights. He pinches my clit between his thick fingers, rubbing and coaxing moans from me. He fucks me with brutal force and heat builds quickly, mounting and mounting as I squirm underneath him. Sweat forms between my breasts and across my brow, and with one final flick of his thumb, I come. Heat explodes throughout my body in a violent wave. I buck under him, rolling my hips against his in a final bid for a last bit of friction. I lose myself in the blissful fog, the weightless feeling I'm drowning in. And without thought, without hindrance, I reach up and grab his face, dragging him down to me in a ruthless kiss. He groans against my mouth before he goes stiff, forcing his cock so deep inside that a twinge of pain shoots through me. "I love you," I whisper before I fall limp.
There's nothing but the sound of his heavy breaths and I realize what I've just done. My eyes flash open and I'm staring into his eyes swirling with storm clouds. Such a cold—blue. My heart stops and I sit up, crawling back across the bed to get away from him. My chest tightens and a sense of betrayal hangs heavy in the air.
"Such a foolish little toy," Three says, grinning behind the gold and blue mask. "Such a worthless whore." He stands and grabs his clothes, shoving his legs into his pants and yanking his shirt closed. "I'm about sick of this little game." He puts his feet inside his shoes and stares at me, but I can't focus on him because it looks like the walls behind him have come to life, contracting and expanding. Breathing...
Three leans down, placing his face inches from mine. "Your pussy wasn't worth it." And with that he walks to the door and opens it. He places one foot into the hallway before he shoves his hand inside his pocket and pulls something out. "Game six," he says before holding up a dagger, the silver blade glinting in the light. "All you have to do is survive." He tosses the knife inside the room and I watch as it skids across the floor. The door slams shut, a lock clicks, and here I sit with Three's come dripping from my pussy.
4
What have I done? I take the sheet and wipe over myself, screaming as I try to get the feel of Three off me. I can feel him all over me, inside of me. Acid eats away at my throat and I vomit on the bed. My head pounds and throbs, my heart races, and my mind—it's a jumbled heap of thoughts and nothingness all at the same time. I stare down at the sheets. I came for him. I came for him...
I jump from the bed, and across the room until my bare back hits the cold wall. I move into the corner and slide down the wall, crying.
I hear voices outside the room, but soon enough, the voices change into carnival music and I grab at my head as I pull my knees to my chest. The room whirls by in a blaze of color like I'm on a fairground ride. Closing my eyes, I will everything to stop spinning. What's happening to me? My skin pricks with the feel of crawling insects. When I look down at my arms, they start to morph. My skin melts like wax, rippling and shifting. Screaming, I grab at my forearm, trying to hold it in place.
And then the colors swirling around me slowly morph until they take shape. The forms of monsters creep from the shadows, their faces twisted and grotesque, snarling and spitting and baying for my blood.
I scramble across the floor and grab the knife, clutching it so hard my fingers ache. I slash wildly at one of the monsters and it screeches, falling to the floor. I dive on it, plunging the blade into its body over and over. Warmth blood sprays across my face. One of the other creatures grabs at me, its claws sinking into my melting arms. Adrenaline courses through me and I fight for my life. I slash and cut, screaming as I fight off grabbing hands and snapping teeth. I slash and I cut, stab and slice until they're dead. They're all dead. I drop back into the corner, clutching the knife and waiting for more monsters to creep from the shadows. Tears streak down my face and over my lips, washing the metallic tang of blood inside my mouth.
The door to the room opens and I glance up at that blue and gold mask, the colors shimmering hypnotically. Tobias....but wait, it's not Tobias. Three. It's three…
"Ella..." he says.
"Stay away from me!" I point the bloodied knife at him and he stops midstride.
&n
bsp; He holds up his hands and tilts his head to the side. "Little lamb..."
"Stop it! Go away. Leave me alone." I gasp for breath as my heart hammers against my ribs. "Just..." I glance down at my naked body covered in blood. Dropping the knife, I hold my hands out, and they're dripping, stained red. Thick blood bubbles over my skin like tar. I frantically wipe my hands down the front of my body, over my stomach and my breasts, trying to get it off.
"Ella." The voice snaps my attention away from my hands and I scramble for the knife again, holding it out in front of me with both hands.
"No. I hate you, Three. I will kill you, and then I'll win. I'll win!" Three backs away from me and slowly removes the mask. Tobias' deep green eyes stare at me. He looks so beautiful, like a shimmering mirage in a desert of death and disease. Too perfect. Too pretty. "Not real. Not real," I mumble to myself.
"Sweet Ella," Preston whispers, stepping out from behind the mirage of Tobias. "It's not Three, it's Tobias." He walks over to me with his hands held in front of him. "Can I come to you?" he asks.
I thump my head back against the wall and squeeze my eyes shut. My hand shakes as I grip the hilt of the knife to my chest. The point scratches over my skin. Three's touch is still on me, and I want to peel my own skin away. I stare down at my arm and then at the knife before I press the blade to my skin. Just like a potato. It'll be just like peeling a potato. And then he'll be gone. "Gone, gone, gone. All gone," I murmur.
Without warning, Tobias grabs my arm and yanks the knife from my grip. I scream and reach for it, clawing at him as he holds me back. My fingers wrap around the hilt and I lunge for him. Tobias, Three, they are one and the same. They did this to me. They want to ruin me. I am ruined. I'm bleeding and melting. My skin is dirty and wrong, and it's trying to fall off because they touched me. They touched me. I hold the knife to his throat and he grabs my wrist to stop me. Preston snatches the knife from my grasp before he wraps his arm around my waist and drags me across the room.