The Beast and Me (12 page)

Day 55

I don’t know if it’s passed midnight again, but it doesn’t really matter. This is my entry for day 55 and I am still alive and... I’m writing this because apparently I am the only normal person here.

Apart from Peter maybe, but I can’t think of him now. I don’t even know if I can trust him. There’s nothing that I could write about him, except from that he probably guarded my room the whole day, not bringing me my food. Instead, Gray did so.

I’m somehow relieved that there was no chance to talk to him and I hope it will stay like that, because I wouldn’t know how to behave.

But that’s not what this is about.

I barely ate... that is I had to eat my Dinner, because of White. He visited me. He brought my meal. So I had to sit down and not just poke at it, even though I more felt like puking rather than eating.

White... the moment I saw him I knew that this meant something serious, like telling me how disappointed he was and he did. There’s much more... not like I would have expected though.

“You know I’m disappointed”, he said in a teaching tone. “But I can understand that you also experience a lack of social contact and that I... tested you.”

Yes, he said that. Looking up to him with my eyes opened wide wasn’t voluntary, but it still seemed to have an effect on him, because... he placed his hand on my shoulder, briefly rubbing it.

Despite that, it was HIM, the reason why I’m stuck here, maybe even why Jay is what and who he is, it did relax me a bit. Since comforting me would mean that he wouldn’t kill me, right?

“I... I’m sorry”, somehow I managed to say that, dropping my head and I tried to stay in that role he obviously wanted to see me play. “I... I failed you.”

In my head, I was talking to Jay, looking into his green eyes, maybe gray-green with that corroded copper ring around his iris. I knew that my voice sounded choked and that there were tears burning in my eyes.

White didn’t answer to that. I figured that this was a good thing, so I continued imagining that I wasn’t talking to him, but to Jay.

“Please, forgive me. I... I’d do anything to make it right”, it just poured out of me before I was able to think it through. “Punish me, if you want to, but I... I want to make it right.”

I don’t want to die. I’d do anything to stay alive, even though I have no reason to want to, because it’s not really a life, is it? Even though just a day ago I wanted all of this to be over, I wanted to die.

There was no way for me to look up, so I stared at my food which didn’t look edible at all to me.

“Anything?” was all that White said and it sounded like a mixture of a statement and a question.

I had no idea if I was supposed to answer, but something about his voice gave me the chills, like a spider does when it’s crawling across your face wakes you up at night and you don’t dare to move or shriek because you might accidentally swallow it down. And I didn’t want to accidentally accept something I couldn’t swallow down... maybe... even... literally. Still, I looked at him and nodded, giving myself goose bumps of disgust, because of that bad feeling creeping up my stomach.

Did you ever expect that someone just rising from a seated position would terrify you? I never did, but still I felt like that as my eyes followed him. He told me to stand up with a gesture and I obeyed. Ordered me to turn around and I obeyed. And he pointed at the table for me to bend over. My will was frozen, making my body follow orders that weren’t my own like I was thinking them. So I placed my hands on the table and tried not to think what might come next, but I did and I waited for him to pull down my pants. Closing my eyes, I reminded myself like repeating a prayer that this would go against the policy, White’s policy, because I was Jay’s... right?

And then... his flat hand smacked against my rear, making me shriek. I hadn’t expected that. I didn’t expect the second slap either. He didn’t say a thing. I muffled myself at the third, but that only made the fourth more painful. So with the fifth I already had learned that he wanted me to whimper. Strangely, that burning pain reminded me of Jay and this effect made me blush. I felt so embarrassed. I still do. And so dirty. Even more because there were ten slaps, ten.

“Tomorrow”, White said, being a bit too much out of breath. “You will look up at me. Be a nice girl.”
All I could do was nod and I didn’t move until he had left.

I feel sick.

Day 56

Yesterday... I think I have to start chronologically, like I always have. Sort my mind. It is afternoon now and I don’t know where they will take me today. I slept after Breakfast and they let me sleep, just like yesterday. So today, not much has happened yet. But this is about yesterday. So that comes first. Today is day 57, but I need to write down was happened yesterday. I just hope they leave me alone today, everyone. Yes, Peter as well.

I’m... I just need to clear my mind...

So, they let me sleep in, which means when Peter came to take me for the workout I was so tired that he just let me sleep. I had my Breakfast alone and I cannot even remember what it was, how it tasted, not even how much I actually ate. I just know that instead of bringing me to the gym, he must’ve taken my tray and left again.

Yes, Peter is still around and somehow I feel awkward about it. I guess one can understand. I don’t know what I thought, when I kissed him, but I remember clearly, sharply like that knife that metaphorically cut through me, when I felt Jay’s hurt. But still I keep thinking about that little moment Peter and I had.

It’s not entirely his fault, and not entirely White’s because it was me kissing him the second time. Maybe a part of me believed that Peter and Jay are one and the same, which is a truckload of bullshit; they barely look like each other. 

Jay is at least two inches taller, well, one maybe, but he is. His hair is light brown and his eyes are dark green with a corroded copper ring around his iris. It’s that color that intensifies and when he... changes.

Peter’s hair is darker, and his black eyes are brown and... now that I think of it, he seems to have that same refurbished copper ring around his iris. That is really the only thing they have in common, apart from their stature maybe. But honestly: Peter looks more like White than like Jay, even with Jay’s warped face, I know... even if Peter’s face would turn into something like Jay’s they wouldn’t look the same.

I don’t know how I managed to sleep till Lunch, not with what had happened the day before, but maybe it’s because sleep is the best way of forgetting, ignoring?

But after Lunch all of the sudden I was wide awake, because I remembered what White had said and that it meant I would see Jay. I was so nervous that I was shaking and nothing, neither hot nor cold water would change that... and I showered really long.

That Peter and Gray were the ones to take me didn’t make it any better, rather worse. I felt like the second time they brought me – which seemed like an eternity ago – but worse, because of Peter. Walking next to him reminded me of the few strolls we had taken here, how normal he had made me feel. And I guess that’s the reason why I kissed him.

Despite nothing about my situation is really normal.

But he made me forget, and now he feels like debris in this nightmare I managed to turn into a dream. I simply couldn’t make myself look at Peter, who did everything in his power to avoid that even his breath touching me.

Eventually I started asking myself if White had told Jay to do something specific, to punish me as well and I realized that I never really had thought about the connection between the two of them. How much control has White over him? Does he have any at all? Was he trying to get control over him through me? Am I just a tool? Is that maybe the only reason why I am here?

Before I knew it, I was in the cage again, stepping inside, hoping that they would chain me, and remembering what White had told me. So when they – much to my relief, though it held just briefly – led me to the chains on the wall, I looked up to the window. Silently I told myself that I had no choice, that if I wanted to be kept safe and treated well, that I had to do this. And still... knowing that I wouldn’t be able to move reminded me of that first time I had been shackled there. Secretly, I hoped that this time it would lessen his anger and his hurt. I had no idea what would happen, how he would react.

I think my heart was pounding so loud that even I would have been able to hear its echo in this room if my blood rushing in my ears had not deafened me. This was terrifying me even more. Yet I felt something else, something lurking beneath my skin, like anticipation.

There was no way of hearing him and I wasn’t able to move anyhow, reminding myself to keep my eyes up to the window, knowing that White was here, watching... no: creeping. This was part of his punishment for me. But whom am I kidding, I knew then too that he was probably taking pleasure from that, and probably he could tell that I wasn’t ignorant of that.

So in truth, that was the punishment.

My skin retreated, straining across my knuckles and bones, my hairs standing up like they were the needles White had punctured me with. It would sound sarcastic to say that it couldn’t get any worse.

Closing my eyes was against my pure instinct as I felt his breath in my hair, right above my ear that was facing towards him. I needed to stay calm and fought against the need to flinch, to move.

Even though I knew he could sense that I was scared, he probably couldn’t tell if I was afraid of him or something else. I had to keep breathing and stay put. I felt like freezing, despite the blaze burning deep inside of me, like a secret that I kept from myself, fighting to break free.

I was sure if I moved too quickly, he would react in some way I wouldn’t want him to. Either hurting me or retreating and both were just beyond all question, because I needed him to forgive me, before I could forgive myself. And yet, I don’t know if I really can... or want to.

Jay didn’t snarl, though I had waited for it, he didn’t purr either, no matter how bad I wanted it. As he plucked at my hair, I managed to open my eyes slowly and despised it the fact that I had to look up, instead of glancing at him.

“I’m sorry”, I exhaled, before I could stop myself and he hesitated, so I added. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I was, I really, truly was, but... I was sorry about how it happened, that White has used what I had done in such a cruel way.

I could not really bring myself to be sorry for kissing Peter and knowing that truly hurts me, even though it makes no sense, no sense at all.

Why can’t they be one and the same?

I wanted Jay to know that I meant him and not White, despite looking up at that horrid window. He just had to know that, but somehow I hoped that White felt addressed to. I felt so sick, so devastated and I was sorry. I still am.

Suddenly I could feel his face in my hair, sense him inhaling my scent, yet it was the only touch. One of his hands passed my face, supporting him against the wall – my eyes still glued to the window – and then there was the other hand wrapping around my stomach, pulling me against him. My eyes flew shut and with my sight the world vanished.

I was devastated and I still feel sick with guilt, for everything. For everything I have done to him and he so easily, willingly forgave me, because I was – I am – all he has. And that I had taken away from him, and I hadn’t even tried to be sorry for my betrayal, for my thievery. I almost had destroyed the only hope he had. This I know, I learned that from this, the way he held me close, without any hint of... that animal White claims him to be.

I know. I know. I know. I know. How can I explain? I can’t. Peter made me feel butterflies, it was warm and comforting and nice. But Jay makes me feel... like an army of ants invading me to dance on my nerves, like birds carrying me, like I am blazing without being burned, safe and strong... like he needs me... desperately.

Call me crazy, but I think I just felt that. And with him not being allowed to talk to me, to tell me... what else is left? What else than talking in a language without words?

“I’m still yours”, I whispered and my eyes opened, fixating on that cursed window, hearing him growl lowly, purring against my cheek and I felt like I was understanding what he meant.

I mean... he was able to see that I looked up, but somehow I knew that he had figured out why, or maybe had been told.

“Do it”, I breathed out hoarsely.

I know! This is insane.

It was insane. It still is.

How can one sense pain without feeling it?

All of it, put itself into a whole picture. Everything about that day – I knew right then – was about me, about me not enjoying this. For whatever reason White didn’t like that I... loved what Jay did to me during these sessions, somehow he knew that it wasn’t breaking me, it did the opposite. And I knew this SOB secretly wanted that I me to feel for him what I really feel for Jay.

“Whatever he told you to do”, I whispered, glaring at that cursed window. “Do it. It’s okay.”

Hesitantly at first, he tore at my top slowly, like it was my second skin, which he didn’t want to rupture it. The sound was far too loud in my ears and yet...

I’m sure that White hadn’t asked for him to take his time, but yet he did... somehow, running his clawed hands across my body, my belly and breast, turning this awful act into something caressingly... before... that.

I knew that I shouldn’t have closed my eyes, but I had to, because he had been so gentle until then, which made me feel even worse. I had expected him to be mad, to be violent and not so... forgiving.

Until...

There is no glimpse of a doubt in any of my cells that White had ordered him to do what Jay did: to pull me backwards that I was barely able to support myself against the wall with my hands, pressing my palms against the concrete, just like the day before. Slowly he dragged his claws down my back, rupturing my skin, creating and leaving a tearing burn, that made me exhale and whimper. Jay would never have done this.

Just like I was forced to look up, White had done something to make Jay hurt me. And I realized that me glancing up at that window was me looking at the real perpetrator.

Down and down my back to my rear. His claws slowly, cruelly sliced through my skin. Three times and not as deep as that day he accidentally hurt me. I wanted to suppress my sounds of pain, but I know that White wanted to hear them. Instead, I gritted my teeth, distorting my expression to a wicked grin, and looked up.

You don’t believe me, I know, no matter how often I will repeat this, but I knew, no, I KNOW that Jay didn’t want to do that to me.

I was sure he was told not to be gentle, and he wasn’t. And I think he wasn’t even able to hold back or restrain himself. The marks of his claws cutting into my flesh and my hips are still hurting. They had drawn blood and I think that this made it so much more difficult for him to hold back. Still... I can’t tell if I liked it or not, just that now I’m so sore. Thinking of it gives me goose bumps and makes me feel... hot.

It was brute, instinctive, animalistic, and in a way it numbed me, the ache of my skin. It knocked out my mind.

I know again why... why I wrote all of this. It’s not just about this, about having sex. It’s about me as well, about him having me. As primitive and misogynist as it sounds.

Like I said: I am the only thing he has, not possesses. I am the only one who actually wants to be there with him. Time and time again, I said that I believe him to be human, that he was human once or maybe still is, in a strange warped, distorted way. And if he truly is, as I believe him to be, then it must be so tormenting, so terrifying to look into a mirror and see a beast.

So, when you despise yourself, how much does someone who does not, mean to you?

Jay needs me, just as much as I need him.

He entered me much too deep and he knew it, still there was no stopping it and I looked up, not being able to bare my teeth anymore. My entire body was giving in.

As he came it almost felt like real fire, even more than that and oh God. I mean, he...

I don’t apologize for anything.

After that, he pulled me up again, pressing me tightly against the wall and I keep wondering if that was part of the punishment, I still have the scratch on my cheek. He held me there, me looking up, his face pressed against mine, inhaling the scent of my skin.

Despite that... it felt good feeling him against my burning, scratched skin, even though his sweat against my ruptured peel seemed like acid.

Time passed.

His hands moved up my sides and for a moment I feared that he would use his claws again, but he didn’t. Instead, he made me whimper as his palms reached my injured hips to move them towards him, forcing my back to arch and my breast to scratch against the wall. His fangs, yes, fangs pierced into my shoulder as he entered me a second time and it burned. Instantly tears gathered in my eyes, and ran down my cheeks.

At least the second time he moved slowly, bringing back, one hand against the wall next to my face and the other one between my legs.

God, I wish I could explain this mixture, how... how the pain melted into that feeling. It was... I don’t know what noises I made, I just know that I lost my voice, sensing his fingers at my weakest spot and him inside me simultaneously.

The memory alone makes my breath turn shallow. Everything melted away, everything that was hurting, burning, and aching faded away into a hot, soothing liquid that was my body.