LOGINShare
###034: THE SCAVENGER
publish date:
2026-03-18 21:35:41
Latest chapter
HIS DARK OBSESSION: The Architect ###044: THE TRAP
//VESPER//“Mrs. Martin.” His voice found my mother like a lighthouse finding a lost ship at sea. She emerged from the kitchen, tear-streaked and shaking, and he crossed to her in three quick strides, taking her hands in his with a gentleness that made my stomach turn. “I cannot in good conscience allow you to stay in a home that is no longer secure.”My mother looked at him, then at the shattered window, then back at him. Her brow furrowed with confusion, the pieces not quite fitting together.“Mr. Pierce, I don’t understand. Mark said this was about the lawsuit. Why would someone throw a brick through our window over a lawsuit?”Azrael’s expression didn’t change, but I saw something flicker behind his eyes—amusement, maybe. Or satisfaction.“I’m afraid your friend here—Mark hasn’t been entirely honest with you, Mrs. Martin.”Agent Miller’s face went pale. “Mr. Pierce, I don’t think this is the time—”“The FBI doesn’t typically assign agents to protect civilians over civil litigati
HIS DARK OBSESSION: The Architect ###043: THE BREACH
//VESPER//The rotting didn’t stop. It spread, a pulsating decay that made every breath feel thick and heavy in my chest.I woke each morning to the same hollow ache behind my ribs, a colony of black mold that thrived no matter how many times I told myself the agents outside meant safety. They didn’t. They were foreign bodies, irritants my system kept trying to reject, and every day they stayed made the rejection worse.Agent Miller came by at noon.My mother called him Mark now, a friend from my old archive job who’d stopped by to check on us after the lawsuit stress. He wore a flannel shirt and smiled like a neighbor, but I could smell him from across the room—stale coffee, gun oil, cheap detergent. Every breath he took felt like an invasion of a space that no longer belonged to anyone but the ghost who haunted it.“Vesper, dear?” My mother’s voice floated from the kitchen. “Are you going to pour the tea or just stare at the kettle?”I blinked. The kettle screamed. I didn’t remember
HIS DARK OBSESSION: The Architect ###042: THE CALL
//VESPER//The silence of the last four days wasn’t a reprieve. It was starvation. A slow, cellular wasting that left me hollowed out and vibrating with a frequency I couldn’t name and didn’t want to understand. I went to work. I came home. I smiled at customers. I checked under my pillow every night like an addict searching for a fix.Nothing. Always nothing.By the fifth day, I had started to believe the rotting was permanent. That this empty, humming shell was all that was left of me.I was wrong. There was still fear. I left the bakery at dusk, the sky a bruised purple overhead, my feet carrying me toward the bus stop on autopilot. I didn’t hear the car approach. Didn’t sense the danger until it was already there.A black sedan screeched to a halt at the curb, cutting off my path. The doors flew open and two men spilled out—thick-necked, caps pulled low, their faces carved from the same desperate, hungry mold. No preamble. No taunts. Just hands reaching for me.One grabbed my thr
HIS DARK OBSESSION: The Architect ###041: THE HOLLOW
//VESPER//The bell above the bakery door chimed and I felt it in my teeth.A woman in a floral coat walked in. I bagged her sourdough, took her cash, gave her change. My hands moved like a machine I no longer controlled. When she left, I stared at the space where she’d been and forgot what I was supposed to do next.Chime. A delivery driver. I hadn’t realized I handed the wrong order until he corrected me. I nodded, apologized, watched him leave.Chime. Nothing. Just the sound, ringing in my skull like a tuning fork against bone.I stood behind the glass counter with my fingers tracing the edge of the wood and realized I couldn’t feel the surface. Couldn’t feel anything except the low hum under my skin, the vibration that started in my chest and spread outward until my throat itched with it.Four days since he’d come. Four days since he’d poured that honeyed poison down my throat and taken me apart piece by piece. Four days of silence that felt more violent than any touch.I was rott
HIS DARK OBSESSION: The Architect ###040: THE SECOND
//VESPER//I came home and shut the door behind me like closing a coffin lid.The house was quiet. My mother’s soft snoring drifted from her room, oblivious to everything, and I was grateful for it. Grateful she couldn’t see me or hear the echo of my own voice still playing in my head.I locked my bedroom door and leaned against it, breathing hard, though I hadn’t run anywhere.The room was the same as I’d left it. The same sheets tangled on the bed. The same candle stub on the nightstand. The same wire under the pillow, the one that had somehow betrayed me.I stripped off my clothes without looking in the mirror. I didn’t want to see the marks. I didn’t want to see anything. I stood in the shower until the water ran cold, then stood there longer, letting the chill numb me from the outside in.When I finally crawled into bed, the sheets still smelled like him.I lay there, staring at the ceiling, and let the weight of everything press down on me. The recording. His voice. My voice. Th
HIS DARK OBSESSION: The Architect ###039: THE RECORDING
//VESPER//I woke gasping, my chest heaving as though I had been running for miles. What happened? The question hung unanswered.I looked around for any sign of him—there was none. But the sheets were tangled around my legs, and I was naked. The cool morning air raised goosebumps on my skin. New marks littered my thighs and chest, layering over the fading ones he had left before. My body felt hummed out, my muscles loose and heavy in a way that made my stomach turn. I knew the feeling too well.My hand flew under the pillow.The wire was still there. I pulled it out, staring at the small device resting in my palm. I hadn’t switched it on. I remembered the internal struggle, the moment of hesitation, and then… the haze.He came. That much I remembered, and then… nothing.The memories flashed in fragments hitting me like shards of broken glass. The taste of something sweet and metallic. The sensation of being dismantled, piece by piece, by hands that knew my anatomy better than I did.
You may also like
Spoiled by Mr. Russell
Luminous Night1.0M viewsMy Marriage Is A Contract
Marvy512.4K viewsI Want You Back
Meminger530.1K viewsTriplets on Secret Mission
Lamour Toujours1.3M viewsBack to Take Revenge Mrs Frost?
M. Eliza32 viewsHopelessly romance
Babyivy 118 viewsThe Billionaire’s Hidden Vow
Aria steel91 viewsPregnant and Rejected by My Billionaire Husband
SONIA 159 views
