SURVIVING THE DEMON GAMES WITH THE LYCAN KING

‎Melissa's POV

‎

‎The night was a frozen tale.

‎I dashed barefoot onto the chilling pavement.

‎My limbs wobbly, as blood dripped down my long bulky legs.

‎An explosive pain thrusting across my swollen core.

‎Tonight's client was a beast – one who enjoyed dehumanizing women to compensate for his manly inadequacies.

‎Every step felt like chilly in my wounds. My lower back screamed for me to pause, but I shuffled it to the side.

‎As I turned a bending corner, the sweet, sugary scent of Christmas pastries hit my nostrils like a tsunami.

‎A thousand tiny lights flickered around the dimly lit Christmas trees strategically placed around the street's edges.

‎The sound of Carol of the bell rang through the air spreading warmth into my cold soul.

‎My torn see through dress hung onto me like the leaves of a shedding tree.

‎The icy glares of passerbys burrowed into my skin, their shameless chatters growing ever so slightly.

‎“Loose woman," They whispered, but I couldn't possibly care.

‎Not with the $50,000 black card clenched in my stone cold hands.

‎This was it– my escape from my abject life of objectification.

‎No more would I be subjected to offering myself to old perverted men just to make ends meet.

‎I could finally give Daniel the perfect Christmas gift– money for his chemotherapy.

‎

‎I quickened my steps, dashing through the winter's snow.

‎I ran to my small rundown apartment.

‎A smile crept onto my lips as I slowly sneaked in, to surprise my dutiful husband.

‎I was sure he would be ecstatic upon seeing my surprise, but nothing could prepare me for what awaited–behind those doors.

‎I stepped into my cramped living room, and was immediately hit with the pungent odor of cigarette and alcohol.

‎I froze momentarily, my limbs unresponsive.

‎My eyes scanned the perimeter with horror.

‎

‎My husband couldn't drink or smoke– cause he had Leukemia.

‎This... this could only mean one thing... A robbery was in progress, and my poor husband was on the receiving end.

‎A cold sweat broke on my forehead.

‎With shaky limbs, I pulled out my cellphone, dialing 911.

‎A buzz echoed, but before they could answer, a hellacious laugh emanated from my bedroom– One I was very much familiar with.

‎That chuckle– It belonged to my husband, Daniel.

‎His laughter like an alarm for my paranoia.

‎Why exactly was he laughing at a time like this?

‎

‎“Hello 911. What's your emergency?" A subtle feminine voice boomed on the other side of the phone.

‎My mouth fell open.

‎“I... I want...”

‎I tried formulating my wordings, but all efforts seemed abortive– as my mind welled up with gibberish.

‎“Hello ma'am. Please speak clearly...”

‎I pondered for a bit, but eventually decided against it.

‎In one swift motion, I dropped my hand, swiping the hang up button.

‎I took in a deep breath, clenched onto my black card, and quietly tiptoed towards the bedroom.

‎Every step felt like the floor underneath my feet was collapsing.

‎My mind raced, commanding I stop, but I wouldn't dare, I had to get to the bottom of this.

‎

‎At the bedroom door, the air changed.

The sharp scent of sex hit me first — thick, suffocating — tangled with lavender.

A woman moaned.

“Harder baby."

‎“Ahh... Daddy."

‎“I love you, Daddy."

My stomach dropped.

I knew that voice, a little too well.

My hand hovered near the handle, trembling. The door was unlocked. I pushed it open an inch, my breath caught in my throat.

What I saw stole the air from my lungs.

‎My very own twin sister— Victoria was stack naked on my bed, riding my husband's cock like it was an antidote to a snake bite.

‎The scene was like an ice bath thrown onto my spine.

‎I stood there— cold and motionless, unable to make sense of the taboo before me.

‎

‎‘I must be dreaming,' I thought. ‘Daniel and Nadia wouldn't betray me like that.'

‎I closed my eyes, shaking my head in disbelief.

‎I hoped once I opened my eyes— all would be well with the world.... Except...

‎My thoughts were quickly interrupted by a hoarse growl from my beloved sister.

‎“Ahh Daddy... Right there... I love it."

‎

‎“Tell me... Who is sweeter, me or that fat pig you call a wife?" She asked, her voice breathy.

‎My eyes widened.

‎My mouth slightly ajar.

‎Was that really my twin— saying something so despicable about me. I feed her, clothe her and her son, and she dared made fun of my size like I was a part of last night's joke.

‎Daniel responded with a slap to her ass, his fingers digging into her hips as he edged her to go faster.

‎“You're silly. How would you compare a spring, to an oversized breeding ground for old men?" He murmured underneath his breath, and my breath got caught.

‎“You should know by now how disgusted I am by her. I haven't even touched her for months, claiming weakness due to my non-existent leukemia," He added laughing, his voice breaking from ecstasy and my blood ran cold. “I am only with her for the money. Once I have successfully sucked her dry. I will kill her like we planned. Then we can finally be together... you— me and our son."

‎

‎“Our son," Those words repeated in my mind. My 5 year old nephew was actually my husband's.

‎I have been taking care of him, his mistress and their son all this while without knowing.

‎A sea of tears gushed out of my eyeballs, which were now rooted in place.

‎For seven good years, I thought my husband didn't want kids.

‎He had asked me to tie my tubes–  turns out the child wasn't the problem, the problem was the mother.

‎

‎“I can't wait for that day," She moaned, her tone high pitched as though she was approaching ecstasy.

‎Daniel pulled her downwards, kissing her like his life depended on it.

‎“Fortunately, you wouldn't have to wait longer," Daniel declared in between pants as he pulled away from the kiss.

‎My brows furrowed at them, my intrigues immediately plagued by his statement.

‎As though reading my mind, he continued.

‎“Cause she is already one foot in the grave,"

Daniel’s voice dropped, lazy and satisfied.

“She’s been sick lately, courtesy of your poison,” he murmured, almost amused.

Victoria laughed softly, breathless. “You think she’s noticed?”

He shrugged, fingers tightening at her hips. “She never does. She thinks it’s stress. Or weight.”

My vision blurred.

“The pills help,” he added. “At least, the ones she thinks are helping.”

Victoria stilled beneath him. “And the tests?”

“Delayed. Every time.” He kissed her shoulder. “By the time anyone realizes, it’ll be too late.”

Silence followed — heavy, deliberate.

Then she whispered, “You’re sure?”

Daniel smiled. I could hear it in his voice.

“Her kidneys are already failing.”

‎My hand flew to my stomach.

No it couldn't be.

The swelling.

The blood.

The pills he pressed into my palm each morning with a smile.

It had all been for show– he had been poisoning me... And my own sister helped.

I had given her my kidney– and now she was taking the rest of me.

‎My limbs felt like melted wax underneath me.

‎I stumbled back, my phone falling to the cold woody floor.

‎My face now a watery mess of tears.

‎Their eyes narrowed at me, and our eyes met.

‎They froze momentarily, neither one knowing what to say to curb the tension.

‎Swiftly, Daniel yanked Victoria off.

‎“Babe this is not what it looks like..." My husband's treacherous voice ran towards me. His brows furrowed as he spoke.

‎He grabbed his boxer brief yanking it up in one go.

‎My sister's eyes narrowed, her glance falling to the floor in a attempt to avoid eye contact.

Her cheeks taking a shade of bright red from embarrassment, as she clinched to my silk white sheets.

‎I glanced at my sister, a spitting image of me, except slimmer, her breast firmer. Her skin smooth like silk, unlike mine ruined by those sex deprived jerks.

‎She was indeed flawless, a symbol of a privileged life. I had given up everything for her, and she had taken everything from me.

‎I wanted to scream at her, at them. To confess my hate, but at last I had gone mute from shock.

‎

‎Quickly, I took to my blistering feet— sailing out of my apartment like a woman possessed.

‎My black card still held tight in my grasp.

‎I could hear Daniel, and Victoria's voices calling out to me in desperation.

‎But I dared not look backwards.

‎I was done— done with everything.

‎There was no room for forgiveness.

‎Once out I immediately ran towards the dark, nasty alley way, in a bit to avoid the other passerbys.

‎I needed some space, a serene environment, away from the excessive Christmas cheers.

‎

I didn’t stop running until my lungs burned.

My tears remaining part of me.

The alley swallowed me whole — damp, narrow, mercifully empty. The sounds of Christmas faded behind me, replaced by the ragged thud of my own heartbeat.

My feet screamed with every step. Something warm slid between my toes, but I didn’t look down.

I clutched the black card so tightly it cut into my palm. Proof that the pain had meant something. Proof that I wasn’t crazy.

The end of the building loomed ahead, pale and familiar. Beyond it lay the street — freedom, or at least distance.

I staggered forward with optimism, then the world lurched.

A blinding glare exploded in my vision.

Metal screamed, then the Impact came like a cannon to my ribs, lifting me clean off the ground.

For a heartbeat, I was weightless — suspended between breath and death.

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