The Devil's Bride

If I only knew who he was the first time I met him, I would have run... to him.

If I only knew who he was, I would have held his hand.

He is the devil. No other evil could match him.

He is the devil and he is on my side.

And I know now, I am the safest when he is behind me.

It was different, yes. It was unusual.

But the man, who I should have feared, became my only companion.

It all happened that Friday night. I still remember how my dearest aunt, Wendy, scolded me for not following her plan.

Well, she wanted me to be "resourceful" and use my "beauty" in order for us to earn money much faster. If she told me to try modelling or acting, I would have been flattered. However, she wanted me to start working on her night club as one of her goddesses, an entertainer. Which I learned to be the term she usually calls her sex workers. I could still feel that uncomfortable feeling I had in my tummy. I wanted to vomit and cry at the same time.

But how could I? She called it a suggestion for my own good.

I could still remember how disappointed she looked when I told her that I didn't want to.

"I think it's better for me to stay as a server," I told her.

She scrunched her nose. I could see her pain through her smile, and I don't know why, but I felt bad. Just the thought of it makes me sick. And to be honest, I couldn't believe that she asked me that.

"You're not using your beauty and your amazing figure," she said as she looked at me from head to toe. "What a waste."

That might have been the most disgusting compliment that I ever heard. However, I couldn't confront her. I can't even say that I was bothered. Because without her, I would not have a roof above my head.

I could still hear my own thought, "It's fine, Lyra. She's just thinking of it. At least she did not force you. "

I still grind my teeth whenever I remember.

Maybe at that moment, she forgot that I was in a committed relationship. Peter and I had been dating for at least six months at that time. And I know he would not appreciate it if his girlfriend suddenly turned into a stripper. Although it's still a job, it's not something that I can stomach.

He and I bonded a lot over the fact that we both grew up as church kids. Our dates usually involve visiting the church and helping out with the outreach programs headed by the religious organization that we both joined. It was awesome that way.

I knew that he would have been proud if I told him how I rejected my aunt. He's been telling me how I should learn how to say "no" more often.

That's why when he messaged me, inviting me to dinner that night, I got excited. I immediately informed my aunt that I would not be able to show up for my shift that night. And she easily agreed. Maybe she felt a tad bit guilty about what she told me. That's why.

I was so giddy, putting on my most favourite dress. It was a white summer dress, up to my knee. Peter always told me how pretty it was. I chose to buy it, even though it left my pocket empty, just because he told me how cute it would be on me.

It left me starving for two weeks, but considering how happy he was and how loved I felt with each compliment he gave, it was worth it.

I knew that I would get that same rush of serotonin that night. Maybe that was why I rushed. I was even on time, despite the fact that I knew he was always thirty minutes late for anything.

The place was a really fancy restaurant at a hotel. Just by looking at it, I can already tell that this entire dinner would cost more than my monthly salary at the club.

My mind was corrupted with all the thoughts of how that night would turn out. We have never gone into such luxurious places before. And now, he wanted to eat out there. It's crazy how my mind immediately went too far ahead.

Was he about to propose? What would I say? How am I supposed to react?

All my intrusive thoughts disappeared when I heard his familiar voice.

"Oh, you're here," he said. I turned to look at him, and he was dressed differently. He was wearing a suit and tie, looking respectable and serious. It is very far from what I usually see. He also had a special accessory on his arm.

"Oh my gosh, she really showed up," the unfamiliar woman said. She was grabbing on to Peter's arm as if she was glued to him or something.

Her hair is blonde, up to her shoulders. The dress she was wearing was a luxurious looking red tube-top dress. It was showing too much, but she carries it well. It suits her. And I guessed that she knew, since she smirked at me proudly.

"Peter... this is?"

He did not answer. The woman stepped closer to kiss me on the cheek and whisper a single line that broke me.

"Hi, I am Mina. I'm Peter's new girlfriend. "

"What?"

Of course, when I wanted an explanation, all he did was shrug.

"When did we break up?" I asked.

"I guess... now."

"But why would you-" I was baffled. "You did not even bother to talk to me beforehand? Why am I just hearing this now? "

Mina chuckled as she looked at me from head to toe.

"Sorry, it was my fault. I was curious and I wanted to see you up close. He was right; you're too plain and boring. "

Those words stung. I felt my whole body ache. I needed to yell, but I couldn't. I want to hurt them, but my body won't move.

"Look at me, Lyra. You will move on faster once you realize why he chose me over you, okay? " She twirled to show me how different we both are. The clacking of her stilettos made my teeth hurt. "Maybe next time, be more ambitious and work harder. Don't expect your boyfriend to be the only one providing for you, okay? Try being more independent and improve yourself. You're already twenty-three years old, and the best you can do is work in a fucking nightclub?Disgusting."

"Is that what he told you?" Peter avoided my gaze.

He knew how my father punished me by blocking all my applications for other jobs. He knew how my own biological father wanted me to marry an old man so that he could secure a new business partner, when my whole life, he never even claimed me to be his own daughter.

I saw in his eyes that he would not explain anything. And I knew that at any second, my tears would betray me.

"I see. I really hope you two have a nice night. "

Have a nice night? Really?

I should have made them feel guilty or ashamed. But why was I the one who left, bawling my eyes out? Why were the people at the restaurant looking at me as if I was the one who needed to be judged?

Everything has been a blur since then. Until I found myself drinking at the back of the counter in my aunt's bar.

"I thought you would be-oh my goodness, Lyra! What happened to you?" She saw me bawling my eyes out on the floor.

My first instinct was to hug her and say, "Peter broke up with me."

"Who cares? Go fix your hair, and wipe your face!" She pulled me up to hand me a glass of water. "Quick, drink this."

"Thank you, auntie."

"Do you know Mr. Galvez?" I tried to think of that name, confused as to why she brought it up.

"The patron?"

"Yes, him. Go to room five and deliver his drinks. "

I almost choked, "Me?" I never sent drinks to the VIP rooms. Usually, the goddesses were the ones who handled those.

"Look, Raine was not here today, and all our girls were busy with their own clients. All you have to do is bring the drinks and leave. That's it. Easy peasy. "

"But-"

"Quick! We can't afford to annoy him. "

I was left with the drinks, not able to do anything else but obey.

And there I was, heading upstairs. I could still feel my legs trembling as I knocked at the door.

I thought I was too drunk, but I only had one drink. I thought it was because I literally bawled my eyes out. But it felt different.

As the doors opened, I saw the older man, maybe in his fifties, with his hair all gray, grinning from ear to ear in his bathrobe. The room was empty, there was no goddess on the bed. It made me feel afraid. It felt weird.

I extended my arms out to give him the tray without entering, but I watched the liquor spill on the floor. My arms went weak. I felt numb, and I could no longer lift my feet.

I felt his cold hands grab me by the waist. He held onto me and dragged me to the bed.

The room spun. My vision was blurry. I couldn't even say a word. All I could hear was his disgusting chuckles. His hands touched the bare skin on my neck, and I felt the rush of warm liquid fall down my cheeks.

The soft linen on my back felt like quicksand. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move and push him away.

He went on top of me and trapped me in between his legs. It felt like an out of body experience where I could see myself being tainted with his touch, but there was nothing to do.

I have never felt so helpless before. My mind automatically called each and every saint I recall. I prayed and prayed. I begged for a miracle, just to stop it all. I desperately wished for it to end. I wanted to disappear, from that hell so badly that I even called for him.

As I felt his slimy hands brush up my thigh, I begged for the Devil to come and save me. I tried yelling, but it was muffled into loud sobs. I called for him again, begging him to put me out of my misery.

Then it happened.

The door swung open.

Although it was a bit hazy, I saw him. A tall man, wearing all black attire.

He was strong. He was able to grab the old toad off of me and throw him like a piece of crumpled paper.

He then grabbed my hand.

I remember... it was warm.

And before I completely lost consciousness, I heard his deep voice.

"I am here now," he said. "You can stop crying."