"I still have one more so don't get up to go anywhere." I looked up from the 5th jewelry box I'd opened since we've arrived home and warily watched Zhayne exit the room, leaving me alone in the midst of the large pile of gifts he'd purchased for my birthday. I released a sigh, listening as it echoed throughout the vacant space. I honestly didn't have it in me to want to open another gift, since I'd spent over 2 hours doing so already. The fact that this wasn't even half of what he had in store for me didn't sit well with me. I didn't like Zhayne doing anything for me at all, let alone spend money.

I am irritable and extremely exhausted. All I wanted to do was get some rest. Though that was a long shot because sleep is very rare for me these days, but I truly did appreciate whatever I could get. What really remains a mystery is how I am able to get so much as 2 minutes of sleep in the arms of a complete psycho who won't ever let me go. The mere thought was horrid and had me second guessing my sanity, like I've been doing an awful lot lately.

Not only was I constantly overwhelmed with fear every second of every single day, but I also couldn't help but notice that there is something alarming changing within me. As my hatred for Zhayne grows stronger, my mind seems to slowly yet very progressively slip away. I have an intense fear of losing my grip on what I left of my dignity.

Somehow, I knew that I was holding onto a thing string that is bound to break at any given moment, but I still didn't like the possible direction I see myself going. It disgusted me and filled my entire being with this nauseating feeling that I couldn't exactly explain. I fear that I will fall into the inescapable prison of insanity.

While the thought of losing my right mind intrigued me and seemed like the better option in order to master the art of indifference in disaster, It disgusted me because it reminded me heavily of the man who I've come to loathe with every inch of my soul. Or at least what's left of it. The idea of sharing any sort of similarities with Zhayne repulsed me to my core.

I reluctantly brought myself back to reality as I sensed Zhayne make his way into the room as he approached just outside the hallway. Lately, I have been so on guard that I would like to think I've gotten better with my observing and listening skills. If I can turn my mind off for just a second I'm able to tune into all of my senses and heighten them beyond what I've ever possessed the ability to do, and it was both astonishing and exhilarating. In the end I knew that sensing his presence wouldn't get me far, but I still felt a hint of pride.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as the fearsome and intimidating man strode back into the room, carrying a large black trunk within his grasp. For some reason I went still on instinct and planted my eyes on the sketchy looking case, feeling uneasiness take over my emotions. I never did like it when Zhayne had surprises for me. It always ended in a bloodbath. And as a result I am the cause of it.

I held back the bile rising up from the back of my tongue and dissolving on my tastebuds. The bitter liquid intensifying as the dangerously powerful man pulled up a chair and sat down in front of me, laying the sleek black case onto the floor in front of us. Out of precaution, I had the urge to back away from him but I've known Zhayne long enough to be aware that will only end in violence. He didn't like it when I tried to separate myself from him even if it was the slightest bit.

I kept myself glued to my spot and clenched my hands into fists, using my nails to scrape the soft padding of my palm as Zhayne leaned forward in his seat to take in my appearance like he always did. My nerves shot through the roof watching the veins in his large hands protrude as he loomed over me, crossing his fingers together.

He placed his forearms on his muscled thighs and darkly peered down at my trembling figure kneeling on the floor. The way his eyes invaded every detail of my frail body caused me to feel inferior to him. All it took was one glance and he has me ready to burst into tears. I could never get used to that intense evil glint glimmering in his unyielding stare. "Angel."

I sucked in a breath as my name slipped from his lips. No matter how often he said it I couldn't shake that powerful feeling of dread off that washed over me. There was so much being said in that tone of his whenever he utters my name. I could almost feel the intensity of his obsession with me through the way he says my name. He knows I can sense it, too. Unsettling was not enough of a word to describe how quickly my body seemed to shut down in fear from the mere sound of his deep voice. I was so fucking weak and insignificant compared to this man and I hated it.

When I attempted to let my gaze fall toward his chest, his fingers caught my chin and harshly lifted my face upward, preventing me from doing so. I had to seal my mouth shut to keep myself from crying out in petrification at the feeling of him touching my skin. I never knew what was going through that head of his, so whenever he touched me I often was left questioning if he would wring my neck, or do anything to hurt me for that matter. It was bothersome.

I wished I was strong enough not to care at all. If Zhayne were to just off me, I'm certain I wouldn't mind. But knowing him, he always has darker intentions behind what he may outwardly showcase. I never know what they were, but I know enough to take precaution before doing anything he would view as a reason to fuck me up and come for my mother next. Shit. My mouth went dry. Just the thought of it made it harder for me to suppress my tears. I couldn't bear it.

"Yes, Zhayne?" I responded when I felt ready to talk clearly. I was afraid that if I spoke too soon that I would sound crazy, so I needed to take the time to collect my thoughts and control my unsteady breaths. My chest tightened as the tension between us thickened. Zhayne didn't respond right away, as he was clearly more fond of watching me beneath him struggling to keep myself from breaking.

He was vocal about how much he loved to look at me. Whether we are together or apart he is always watching me, observing my every move and memorizing my habits, reading me, infiltrating my soul, my mind, my life, my everything. From the moment he saw me for the very first time, he knew he would ruin every aspect of my life. It's a horrifying revelation, really. He had evil intentions from the beginning.

Being with Zhayne has taught me that not all monsters are physically unpleasant to the eye. In fact, they come in all sorts of different disguises. But the worst of all, is beauty. That alone gave him so much more power than he already has. I hated myself for even doing so much as acknowledging the fact that Zhayne is the perfect example of a

This is a man who is evil beyond anything I've ever heard of. His barbaric acts were unmatched. I was at some point convinced that he wasn't human. In my mind he had to be a demon or the spawn of Satan, or maybe he was the devil himself. But as I began to think deeper, I realized that I would gladly empathize more with the devil more than I ever could Zhayne. Therefore, there is no comparison between the two. Zhayne was by far worse. Lucifer was just going his job. He has a role to play in this world. But Zhayne on the other hand commits terrible acts because he has the power to. He sheds blood because he can.

Zhayne's hand remained planted firmly under my chin as his dark eyes glittered with an illegible emotion. "Why do you look like you're about to cry?" He softly inquired, tenderly stroking the underside of my jaw. I tensed up immediately and caught my bottom lip in my teeth, feeling my anxiety getting worse. His voice did a number on me, and I didn't mean that in a good way. Everything about him frightened me. "How many times do I have to tell you that your tears are useless?"

I knew they were but I couldn't stop myself. Zhayne's presence is so overwhelming that I can't stand to hold them back for long. On instinct I stop in place and the salty liquid pools in my sight before I get the chance to do anything to prevent it. It's almost as if I don't have power over how my body responds whenever Zhayne does anything. "I'm sorry." It was all I could say as my vision blurred even more with the clear substance.

Zhayne looked down upon me in distaste and reached up with his other hand to wipe away my tears before they could cascade down my flushed face. "That will be coming to an end soon." He suddenly says. His hands left me while he leans upward, sitting back comfortably in his seat as he remained focused on me sitting below him. "Open it."

This is what I was dreading. I know I don't have a choice but to obey his firm command but I didn't want to do it. I've endured enough for one night and I wasn't sure if I would be mentally prepared to face something else that would scar me for life. I could hardly even stand to look at the wedding band encasing my ring finger that had been placed on me just a few hours ago. It burdened me and felt as if I were carrying such a heavy weight on my hand and mind.

I looked away from Zhayne and hesitantly zeroed in on the large trunk laying between the both of us. My legs trembled at an alarmingly rapid pace as I looked toward the corner of the case, where two letters had been engraved into the velvet like material.

My stomach twisted up in mortification as I suddenly questioned what it would stand for. I obviously knew what the first letter meant, but it was the that had me second guessing everything. The ominous engraving seemed to stare back at me as the weight of the ring on my finger grew heavier.

With my tongue dry in my mouth, I reluctantly placed my hands on the corners of the large trunk and slowly began to lift the top, ignoring the burning urge to look away out of fear of what could possibly be inside. There were currently so many negative emotions rushing through me at once that I couldn't grasp exactly how I felt at the moment.

It became harder to maintain the ability to breathe correctly as my eyes finally landed on what was inside of the trunk. "Zhayne." I whispered shakily, feeling wary. His name abruptly fell from my lips before I could stop myself. Dread settled in the pit of my gut as I took in the grim sight of the weapon. I was unable to look away from it. What scared me wasn't only that I didn't know what Zhayne's intentions were with this, but it was also the fact that I felt more than just fear. There was something else. "Why did you give me this? I-"

I couldn't calmly collect my thoughts and it was now a challenge for me to attempt to keep myself composed for the sake of not pissing Zhayne off. The horrifying yet seemingly compelling image left me confused as to how I should react. "I- can't take this. Y-you have to take it back." I told him, shaking my head frantically. If it weren't for Zhayne's sick gaze that was enough to make me queasy I would have closed it back. For some reason I felt overpowered by a mere weapon.

"Angel. You don't have a choice." His deep voice had that familiar unsettling edge to it that I knew all too well. I shivered feeling a sudden wave of unpleasant chills soaring throughout my body as his words repeated in my mind. "If I have to do it for you, expect it to be used on you as well." My heart stopped in my frantically moving chest. That certainly wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

I brought my shaky hands downward and carefully took the large sword into my grasp, holding onto the two opposing ends. Just the weight of the thick weapon caused the frantic movement in my hands to intensify, and keeping it balanced did almost nothing to help. My gaze slowly traveled to the sharp end, imagining the sheer amount of damage this could do to an individual.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought. I knew just by the looks of it that I could cut myself if I was too careless with the way I held it. So I placed my other palm flat on the underside of the blade which glimmered beautifully under the moonlight as my other clenched the handle. I could feel them begin to grow clammy at the unfamiliar feeling of a large blade in my hands.

My body continued to shake as if I were standing right in the midst of a violent storm as I hesitantly inspected the alluring yet haunting sword. Upon studying it, I quickly came to realize that my initials were engraved into the spot just above the handle just as it had been on the black trunk which previously encased the shining blade in my hold.

Seemingly paying no mind to my surroundings any longer I carefully tightened my grip around the handle as I removed my other hand from the tip to trace the detailing of the expensive material, intrigued and perplexed by the choice of design. My fingers ghosted over the mysterious patterns. I had no thoughts of what the symbols met, but the pads of my fingers tingled as they came in contact with the lines.

I soon realized that I was becoming too intrigued with the swords design so I retracted my hand quickly, silently telling myself to snap out of it as I wiped my eyes clean of any tears. From the corner of my vision I saw Zhayne caressing the underside of his chin as he focused on the blade beneath him with a look of indifference on his stoic expression.

I was going to put it back in the case, hoping that would be enough for the night, but before I could do anything Zhayne's foot was placed over the top of the trunk and he closed it without even looking at me. He instead kept his attention remaining on the sword in my unsteady hands. It made my fear spike up again out of nowhere as I foolishly thought about what could be going through that cunning mind of his.

"Tell me Angel," my orbs blew wide as Zhayne reached down for the blade on the opposite end, running his forefinger lightly along the sharp edge of the sword. I held back a gasp as a small cut formed on his skin and blood began to drip from the small wound. Droplets of the crimson liquid fell onto the flat surface of the silver weapon, combining with the tears I had shed onto it beforehand.

Zhayne brought his hand back up to his face. His electric blue eyes glittering brightly in the dimly lit room as he peered blankly at the leaking injury as if it were the most boring thing he had ever laid eyes upon. "How do you feel when you're holding this?" He inquired with not a trace of emotion in his tone of voice. It chilled me to my core.

"Scared." I struggled to get out, as it physically hurt me to speak. In fact, I was in so much pain that I could almost barely muster up the courage to do anything. Past injuries have taken a huge toll on my body and the healing process for recent ones haven't done much to help me. I knew there would be long term effects judging from how badly Zhayne had damaged different parts of me.

The aftermath of sex didn't do much to improve my pitiful condition either. As if my legs weren't bad enough already, Zhayne had decided he wouldn't spare me and fuck me as much as he pleases. Of course there is never anything good that comes of that. I was still currently recovering from the last round he'd had with me a couple of hours ago. If it weren't for me passing out on him for the third time, I'm sure he would have still been going at it without faltering for one second. That fact had me quivering.

"You shouldn't be." He responded after a while, moving a few strands of hair out of my face before slowly dragging his bleeding finger along my flushed and damp cheek, causing the palms of my hands to grow more clammy from how crazy my nerves were going from crippling fear. I would never become accustomed to this evil man's touch even if I tried to. "What else do you feel other than fear, Angel?"

The sudden question startled me and left me speechless for a moment. I didn't take the time to think about an answer before my mouth took the initiative and moved on it's own. "N-nothing. I-I can't. I don't know I-I'm just scared." I told Zhayne, not wanting to talk about this anymore. I could feel my anxiety getting worse and I knew that soon it would go beyond my control if this doesn't stop.

Zhayne briefly paused before nodding his head. "Okay." His head drew away from mine and at a snail's pace he placed his hand on the sharp end of the sword again and angled it upward. I swallowed a gasp and I went to put the sword down but Zhayne shook his head and pressed the tip of the blade against his throat. My blood turned to ice, but I couldn't fully understand what was going on.

Why was he...?

"Zhayne..." I trailed off, gazing at the small wound that began to form on his neck. The sight of the red substance oozing from the cut and gliding down his pale skin made it harder for me to keep my grip on the heavy sword. I was becoming distracted...by the sight of blood. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the slight puncture in his neck as I trembled, causing the blade to dig even further into his neck, deepening the wound.

He didn't flinch.

"So," he spoke monotonously, paying no mind to the blade that happened to be extremely close to piercing his throat. One wrong move and he would become a headless figure. "How do you feel, Angel?" Zhayne asked me again, gaze unfaltering from my body as he asked. I couldn't deny that I knew the answer to that question immediately. I felt . I wanted to slit his fucking throat and watch him bleed out on the floor beneath me until he breathes his last breath.

Truthfully, I told him. "I-I'm still scared shitless, Zhayne." I breathed out, forcing myself to look away from the bleeding cut. "Because I know you are thinking ahead of me. Y-you know how I feel right now. You know everything. If I do what I-I really want to do, you'll-" I stopped myself as I realized I couldn't say exactly what he would do because I had no clue. That was the true horror of it all. He was an unpredictable mastermind.

Zhayne angled his head to the side and slowly began to showcase a rare grin on his handsome face. If I didn't know how evil he was I would have been sold immediately. My pathetic trembling didn't stop as I watched him remove the end of the sword from his neck and he motioned for me to put it back. For a second I hesitated, wondering if I should take this as my chance to behead him and run for my life.

Zhayne removed his foot from the top of the trunk and opened it up for me. The sudden action pulled me from my questionable thoughts. I swallowed thickly and hesitantly put the weighted sword back in the case, ignoring the engraving of my initials glaring back up at me as Zhayne closed it back with his foot.

"Soon enough, Angel, nothing will phase you."