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Henri
I STOOD LOOKING AT MYSELF in the mirror.
A mirror that took up the whole wall of the vast bathroom. Exposed stone on the walls, black marble on the floor, a walk-in shower beneath a large skylight, and a vanity carved from a single tree stump.
My hands curled around the basin, twinging the cut on my palm from the glass I’d shattered in the club.
The scalding shower that I’d turned on ten minutes ago filled the space with steam. The mirror streaked with fat droplets, blurring my reflection, making it seem like I bled with colourless tears.
I needed to undress and climb into the shower. I needed to rinse away the memory of the blood test to see if I could fuck slaves unprotected, to wash out my filthy thoughts, and head down to breakfast to fill my churning stomach with food.
I needed to do whatever it took to settle the corruption in my mind.
Ever since the butler guided me into this suite with its giant four-poster bed, bronze chaise, massive stained-glass window, and a small round balcony that overlooked lush gardens that didn’t seem real, I’d tripped a little deeper into hell.
This place was fucking with my head.
Every rock and lintel seemed to regress me to an era where violence was just a part of life. Humans pretended to be more civil in this day and age, preferring to destroy one another with slander and pointless online battles, but back then…we didn’t hide.
Back then, men were animals, and women knew it.
Murder was rife and accepted.
Rape was common and unchallenged.
Women knew who had the power, and men knew they were untouchable.
This fortress hissed with that history, even if it was fake like Ily said.
The longer I stood in its walls, the more today’s society faded away until I was left in yesterday.
In a time when I would flourish.
A time of debasement and lawlessness.
A time when I could’ve been free.
My fingers curled tighter around the sink, trying to crack the thick porcelain.
You are free.
Free to be good. To be an obedient brother. To be a man unbent by sadistic fucking desires.
My upper lip curled, snarling at my reflection.
I had arguments with those thoughts. I had fears I wouldn’t live up to those thoughts.
With a groan, I ripped off my tie, undid my useless cufflinks, then shrugged out of my blazer and shirt.
The awful feeling that I was on my own increased with every heartbeat.
The sensation that I’d been sent here to fail made claustrophobia claw.
I’d been thrown into a devil’s den without a fucking gun, and I had to admit…I’m in way over my head.
Enough.
Focus.
