My Tormentor Novels & Stories

“You weren’t giving us the full story back at Mason and Laina’s, were you?” “Of course not. It’s a long story to tell.” “Will you tell me?” “What do you want to know?” I asked, rolling onto my side so I could face her, too. She licked her lips. “Who did this to you?” “A jackass who calls himself Torq. He’s another driver in the LA race scene. He was the best.” “Was?” she asked, giving me a coy smile. I rested a hand on her hip. “Are you going to make me say it?”

But I was past the point of forgiveness. A sinister smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I took deliberate steps towards Selena. Each movement was filled with purpose, fueled by the years of pain and torment she had inflicted upon me. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the opportunity to make her feel the anguish that had consumed my soul. Selena's eyes darted around, searching for an escape that she would not find. She tried to crawl backward on the floor, but her body refused to obey her commands. She was trapped, transfixed in her own torment, at my mercy.

We refused to let this enemy tear us apart. As the climactic battle ensued, adrenaline coursed through my veins. Victor fought with a fierce determination, his eyes locked on our tormentor, never wavering. With each strike, it was as if he was reclaiming his power, his spirit unbreakable. In a final act of desperation, our tormentor lunged at me, their eyes burning with a twisted sense of satisfaction. But before their hand could reach me, Victor intercepted, shielding me from harm. The force of the impact sent them sprawling to the ground, defeated.

She lashes again and again and again. Time blur as the torture continues, a relentless onslaught of pain and suffering. The chamber becomes a surreal nightmare, a place where the boundaries between agony and stoicism blurs into an indistinguishable haze. The men and the woman grow frustrated by my little-to-no reaction. They want me broken, defeated, but I remain resolute, as though I’ve found refuge in the depths of my own numbness. One of the men, his patience exhausted, leans in close to my ear. "You’re an expert in concealing your pain, traitor," he spits, "But even the strongest walls can crumble."

Each new penetration brought fresh waves of it. My sexual tormentor began pounding me. He drilled me mercilessly, clearly thrilled with the pain he brought me. Grunts began flowing past his lips as he forced himself into me with unyielding intensity. I retreat into myself. I tried pretending I was somewhere else, but the pain kept dragging me back. I tried to picture myself with someone less repulsive, someone younger. It didn’t work. Nothing did. I was trapped within my own body, unable to escape the hell that had become my life. Pain gripped me, keeping me from fighting back. What little sanity I had left told me to remain calm and pray the boss was a premature ejaculator.

I sprang from the bed and grabbed her throat. "You bitch! You killed my pup!" She was smaller. Weaker. I pinned her to the wall. My nails sunk into her skin. She widened her eyes in panic. Screams tore through the ward. I tightened my grip. My voice went hard. "Keep screaming. Louder! I’ll use my authority to kill you here!" She looked to Xavier and Mom, pleading. Panic filled her eyes. "Help... she's crazy..." Xavier watched by the side. Clearly, he handed the moment to me.

Sargis's thumb brushed lightly over mine, and it undid me all over again. "He was the worst," I whispered, the name like ash on my tongue. " My... tormentor. He wasn't like the rest. They beat me out of fear. He... he hurt me because he enjoyed it. He dissected me. Treated me like I was something to be solved. He would sit there, watching me, waiting for the monster he believed was inside me to rise. He'd deny me water, food, air if he could, just to see how long it would take for the 'real' me to emerge." I drew a shaky breath, blinking furiously against the blur in my vision.

And the torture begins again, more painfully this time, because it’s not only my body being tested, but also my faith in a love powerful enough to pull me out of this nightmare. With a cry of terror, my eyes suddenly open to a dark, unfamiliar room. Panic sets in because I still feel the last memories of that night of horror, preceded by many others, which led to even more torment. Tears roll continuously down my burning cheeks. The feeling of his fingers on my body, his breath, his sadistic voice… it feels like he’s in the room with me. Since I know he isn’t dead, and worse, that he’s stalking me to reclaim me, my thoughts turn to the years of torment he endured in that cellar. Knowing my u

"And I will never be your wife." Torres' smile fades, his eyes turning cold. "I have been easy on you Selena, but that can all change. I can make things so much harder for you. I think that in the morning, I will teach you a lesson." I force myself to stand tall, the fear coiling in my stomach. "What are you going to do?" Torres' smile returns, a sadistic glint in his eye. "Oh, you'll see," he says, his voice dripping with malice. "You'll see just how much I can make you suffer."

——————— If only I’d known that happiness was a glass mirage, destined to shatter before I could prepare myself for the fall, I would never have let myself bask in its warmth so completely, only to be left drowning without the man I’d mistaken for my salvation. And yet, even after leaving me to drown alone, Ethan had been right about one thing. Tormentors deserved no mercy. The cruellest irony was that the man who’d once taught me to defend myself against a monster would eventually become my greatest tormentor—while I remained blind to it. • • •