Malevolent

by Cassia Brightmore

  MALEVOLENT

  Copyright ©2015 Cassia Brightmore

  Malevolent is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  First eBook edition: March 2015

  Edited : Ellie McLove at Love N. Books

  Cover design : © L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations

  Stock Photography : Arman Zhenikeyev & Louis W

  Formatting by L.J. Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations

  Information address: cassiabrightmore@gmail.com

  DEDICATION

  To my Grandma, Gwen Wood. Thank you for always believing in me. For teaching me that I was not only worthy, but that my dreams could be accomplished if I believed in myself.

  I miss you every day.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author - Cassia Brightmore

  PROLOGUE

  Darkness. Addictive, seductive and irresistible. Once it gets its claws into you, there’s no turning back. It seeps into your pores and consumes your soul. They say the mind is a beautiful thing, but do you ever wonder why the dark, twisted intricacies are never mentioned? True evil is a reality, it exists in all of us. The question is—who do you choose to be? Do you embrace the light? Or will you surrender to the dark and its temptations?

  Pure, innocent goodness. It wraps its arms around us and carries us through the blackest of times, the most horrible of nightmares. They say true angels live among us, walking the earth disguised in human form. Kind souls that act selflessly and truly care for others. Does light always prevail in the fight against the dark? Or is our destiny to submit to our deepest, most hidden, terrifying desires?

  CHAPTER ONE

  2 Months Ago

  The ear-splintering sound of metal on metal pulled Ava Marshall from a state of unconsciousness, her eyes fluttered as they slowly opened. What was that sound? she wondered; her first coherent thought was pain filled and groggy. Unsure of her surroundings, she lifted her head and touched it with a light hand, blinking away the haziness. Her longish black bangs fell into her eyes, and as she reached up to brush them aside, she froze. Eyes widening in fear, she stared at the glinting, heavy metal ensconcing her tiny wrists. Her eyes followed the long chain attached to the cuffs which ended on a secure hook in the floor. What the ever loving fuck?

  Frantic, she wracked her brain for the last thing she remembered. Had she suddenly met some mysterious stranger that was way into kinky sex? No, that wasn’t it. As terror filled her bones, she yanked on the chains, desperate to be free. She hissed as the handcuffs bit unforgivingly into her skin.

  Okay Ava, don’t freak the fuck out. There's got to be a way out of here, now what can—heavy footsteps creaked along the old pine floorboards across the room. All sense of thought screeched to a halt as she strained to hear more, to hear if someone was coming. Leaning forward onto all fours, her eyes darted around the room, scanning left to right. The mattress she was kneeling on let out a loud groan in protest with each shift of her weight.

  A quick assessment showed she was alone, despite hearing the distinct sound of footsteps. There was no sign of anyone else in the cabin. Cabin? Was that where she was? Sparse furniture and wooden logs for walls were her only clue as to where she was being held. The drapes over the windows were yellowed and fraying, the eerie silence indicating the place had been abandoned for quite some time. An alarming mixture of confusion and anxiety made a nasty cocktail of fear slide down the back of her throat. Her mind was a spinning movie reel playing horrible scenarios over and over as she struggled to remain calm and figure out her surroundings and exactly what was going on. She didn't see anyone in the room but ... I heard footsteps, I know I did.

  A cringe worthy sound filled the air, one that could only be described as the terrifying sound of knives being sharpened. The footsteps began again; the loud thud of a door slamming open startled her back, landing jerkily on her ass. Shrinking, in hopes of making herself invisible, she peered up as a man entered the room. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. Confused, she sat silent. He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

  He was well over 6 feet tall and built as solid as a brick house. His blond hair was trimmed neat, a stark contrast to the air of danger and evil radiating from him. He might have been handsome, if not for his soulless eyes that spoke of terror and mayhem.

  As she studied his features, his muscular body and confident stride, fear spread throughout her body. A slow grin broke out on his face as he took in the sight of her. Tremors took over her body as she began yanking on her restraints, desperation setting in.

  “You’re awake. That’s good, I’d hate to get started when you’re not conscious. None of this is any fun otherwise, sugar,” his voice was smooth as butter, almost mesmerizing.

  “Wh-who are you? What do I have to be awake for? This is a mistake, I don’t belong here!” she protested. If she could just reason with him, maybe he would uncuff her and let her go. A low chuckle escaped him, his gaze showing his amusement at her request. He reached out and stroked her hair with a soft hand. That affectionate touch was both confusing and infuriating. One minute it seemed that he wanted to hurt her, and the next he was stroking her skin, it didn't make sense.

  Pulling back, she glared at him, defiance evident on her face. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she ordered. Her words had no effect on him, if the grin he flashed her was any indication. It was as though she hadn’t spoken at all.

  “Sugar, there ain’t no mistake. Do I look like a man that makes mistakes?” Gesturing at himself, she finally noticed what he was holding. A knife? No, an axe. She shivered, it was a goddamn machete! The glint of the metal reflected from the light spilling in from the window, casting an ominous glow in his hand. Oh God, oh God, oh God. His maniacal smile widened, his eyebrows raised, awaiting her response.

  “Not wise, to ignore my questions girl,” he bit out. His mood changed in a flash, the threat obvious.

  Shit, what am I going to do? There must be a way out of this. Her thoughts were a spiral, she needed to keep her wits about her and find a way to get free. She couldn’t give up, no matter how terrified she was.

  “No-o,” she stammered. “You don’t look like a man that makes mistakes, but please! I just want to go home. I won’t tell anyone I was here, I swear. I’m only eighteen, no one would even believe me…” she was desperate to make him see. If he would only listen, she knew she could negotiate her way out of here.

  Her father had always told her that she was destined to be in a courtroom one day; her powers of bargaining to get what she wanted were well known in her family. Relying on those skills now were going to be what would save her from this nightmare. She needed to find a way to get that knife from him, to find the key
s to the handcuffs and then get the fuck out of this hellhole. Focused on her thoughts of escape, she barely comprehended that he was now in front of her, standing in her direct line of vision. His body loomed over hers, his eyes drinking her in from head to toe. She recognized the look in his cold eyes. Lust. It sent a wave of fear skittering down her spine.

  I have to fight, I have to stay strong. Fight. Stay strong. Repeating those words to herself helped her feel calm, to push the terror aside.

  “I must say sugar, you are divine. A true catch.” Panic seized her as his free hand trailed down the front of her. Quick as a snake, his other hand shot up, slicing her gray t-shirt open down the front. Screaming, she swatted her bound hands at him, growing infuriated as he once again chuckled at her attempts. Her tiny frame was no match for his strength, and they both knew it.

  “Stop! No, don’t touch me,” her pleas were muffled as his mouth cruelly descended on hers, his tongue thrusting inside. He was ruthless as he devoured every inch of her mouth. She writhed and bucked, but only succeeded in causing herself to fall flat on her back, an opportunity he seized, his body engulfing hers.

  “You’re so sweet, darlin’. Like warm apple pie,” he mumbled, his hands gripping her hair and forcing her head back. Once the smooth line of her neck was exposed, he attacked, his teeth vicious as they bit down on her tender skin. Pain shot through her, causing her back to arch off the mattress and her small ineffectual fists to beat on his chest. Grinning, blood speckled on his teeth, he raised the knife. Ava’s eyes widened and she froze. It was like watching a train wreck, she was terrified and frozen in fear, yet couldn’t look away. He was getting off on her fear, she realized. He’s a goddamn psychopath.

  “Sugar, I must apologize. I forgot to explain about my blood lust. You see, I have a thing for the taste of blood, and yours darlin’, well it’s simply exceptional. What a treat you are.” His eyes never left hers as he admitted his fetish, her blues locked to his black. His hand cupped her breast through her bra, seeking and teasing her nipple until it betrayed her, forming a hard nub.

  A groan escaped him and with rapid speed, her bra was slit and his mouth was feasting greedily on her breasts. Licking, nipping, sucking. His hand gripped her hair, giving it a rough tug. Tears formed and ran down her cheeks, the shock of what was happening to her wearing off. I have to fight, I don’t want to die..if I could just get the knife...Her mind worked for ways to outsmart this psycho, to find his weakness and get away.

  “Please, please stop,” she begged, hoping to distract him. His head lifted from her chest and he had the nerve to wink at her. Suddenly furious, she inched her hands closer to the knife - her fingertips just brushing the blade. Not an easy feat with them being chained, but she was determined.

  “Ah ah ah, girl,” he tsked as he slid it out of reach. “That’s my toy, but if you want to see more of it…” Again, his mood changed and before she could blink, the knife was cutting into her arm, slicing deep and painful. At the sight of the blood oozing from the wound, his eyes glazed over and he ground his rock hard cock against her.

  “That’s it baby, bleed for me. I own your blood, its mine. I’m gonna savour each and every drop,” his voice trailed off as he swiped a drop of blood from her arm and brought it to his lips. As she watched in horror, he sucked his finger into his mouth, closing his eyes in ecstasy at the taste of her blood.

  “Delicious baby, so fuckin tasty,” the pleasure in his voice disgusted her. Ava’s mouth opened in a silent scream as she again tried unsuccessfully to buck him off, only managing to match his thrusts, further enticing his lust.

  Wriggling her hands upwards, she used his momentary distraction to drive her cuffs straight into his face, rejoicing when the metal nicked his skin and caught him off guard. A yowl escaped him as he sat back, she seized the opportunity to scramble and roll off the mattress. Her only thought to gain some sort of freedom, forgetting the cuffs were chained to the floor a few feet away from the bed. She had barely made it anywhere when a pain resonated in her head as he mercilessly grabbed her hair and yanked her back, her body bounced as she landed back on the mattress.

  Ava could feel the fury pumping from him in waves, blood streaming down his face from the cut she had inflicted. She opened her mouth to apologize, to plead, but the words trapped in her throat as he yanked her pants down in one powerful movement.

  “Fucking bitch. I make you bleed, you bleed for me!” he roared, spittle spewing from his mouth. Gone was the charm and the chuckles. The true monster had been revealed. He raised the large knife and brought it down across her stomach in vicious swipe. Pain vibrated through her from the sting and she bucked and tried to crawl away. Manic laughter emanated from his lips as his eyes glazed over from the high he received. His fingers were painted with the crimson color of her life's force and her stomach was now his own personal canvas. The blood soothed his craze and his actions slowed and became more intentional. She stilled, cautious.

  Was it over? Would he let her go now? Maybe if I—once again, her thoughts were cut off as she felt the sharp pinch of fabric cutting into her hips as he tore her panties from her body and drove his thick cock into her in one swift motion.

  “Ahh, nooo stop!” she screamed as he withdrew and pounded back inside her, effectively plowing through her innocence—stealing part of her soul. His mouth descended and latched onto her small breast once more, this time clamping his teeth around her nipple, tugging upward as he continued his relentless thrusts.

  “So tight, sugar. So tight for me,” he chanted, never letting up on his cock pumping into her, filling her to the hilt. Ava’s head fell back, tears running down her cheeks to drip off her chin. Part of her died, his brutal attack stole the pure part of her soul, decimating her with each push inside.

  He wedged his hand between them seeking her clit and tugging on it, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. His grunts echoed in her ear, his sick pleasure evident in every move he made. She barely registered the knife slicing across her stomach, or the fact that he coated his fingers in her blood and rubbed it over his cock, once again driving into her. It’s not real, it’s not real, Ava. Just don’t think about it.

  His weight lifted from her and for a moment she dizzily thought he was letting her go, but he only roughly flipped her over pulling her to her knees. Pushing her face into the dirty mattress, he caressed her ass cheeks and moaned.

  “So perfect, such soft skin darlin’,” he spoke softly now, as though complimenting a lover. Her face was drowned in snot and tears and yet still she begged him to release her.

  “Please. You don’t have to do this.” When she felt his finger seeking her back entrance, she knew there was no stopping him. He was going to take all of her. “Wait—” Her words were cut off by an excruciating pain on the small of her back. He cut me, he cut me again!

  “Need to get you ready, sugar.” Bile rose in her throat as she felt her smeared blood trail down her back and to her ass. Bracing herself, she knew—she knew what was coming next. Despite being ready for it, nothing could have prepared her for the excruciating feeling of his hard cock driving into her her.

  Her scream trapped in her throat as he forced his way inside.

  Reaching around, he latched onto her breasts tugging her nipples as he thrust in and out, over and over. It wasn’t long before he slipped out and immediately drove back inside her pussy, grunting. Grabbing her hips he set a ruthless pace, her entire body shaking from his exertion. She felt him everywhere, the knife and the feeling of his skin had become a part of her, a darkness she couldn’t escape.

  When he finished on a roar, his warm cum shooting deep inside her, she closed her eyes in relief. Now he would let her go. Now that she was ruined, broken beyond belief. He wouldn’t need her anymore. She collapsed and he rolled her over, staring into her eyes. He must have liked what he saw, as a grin broke out across his face. He tenderly kissed her forehead, stroking her hair in affection once again.

  “Why darlin�
��, I do believe you are my favorite.” Grabbing her chin in a rough manner, he forced her eyes to his. Disoriented, she stared back, completely at his mercy as his mouth lowered and his tongue darted across her cheek, capturing her tears.

  He got off on her pain, on her blood. He was the devil—out to possess every fiber of her being.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Just let me go now.” A sound caught her attention, and pulling her eyes from the monster that had her in his grasp, she looked over his shoulder. Shocked, she realized there was someone else in the room. A second person was lounging against the wall, staring at them with intensity.

  Blinking in rapid succession, she tried to clear her vision. As the figure came into focus, shock filled her as recognition set in. Hope bloomed in her chest, silent tears of relief pooling in her eyes. Her screams had been heard. She was saved.

  “Oh God, thank fuck you’re here! Hurry please, call for help, get him away…these handcuffs,” her words tripped over each other in her rush to get them out. “Why are you just standing there? Help me! You don’t understand what he—he did to me.” Choking sobs strangled her as she pleaded and begged. As the person continued to watch from their position in the corner of the room, not making a move to offer assistance, the man on top of her began to chuckle.

  “Sugar, don’t be ridiculous.” Rising up on his elbows, he turned his head, his malicious grin aimed at his partner. “We can’t let you go. The real fun is about to begin.”

  Ava stared into the newcomer’s soulless eyes in utter shock. A sick feeling of dread filled her, a horrible realization setting in. She didn’t know this person at all, she was face to face with a blacker than black soul. Silence filled the room, and she knew. In those eyes, she was seeing her own death. This was hell and there would be no escape.

  CHAPTER TWO