Page 24 of Dark Desire (Dark Souls Spin-off Short Story)

Chapter Twelve

H e did it. The maniac actually left me like this. Naked, covered in semen and blood and handcuffed to the bed with no access to my magic. Completely helpless.

FUCK HIM.

I mean, fuck him in the insulting sense, not literally fuck him. Although let’s be honest, who was I kidding? I still would. Maybe. But not until I give him a piece of my damn mind.

“Urgh!” I screamed in frustration, yanking my wrists so hard I worried I’d break a bone.

Shit, I might have to break a bone to get out of these things.

I whimpered, kicking my legs against the mattress.

Why? Why did I ever think this was a good idea?

I guess being deprived of sex for so long really could take its toll on a person’s sanity.

I couldn’t deny that the orgasms I just received weren’t mind-blowing.

I think I may have levitated at one point.

But were they worth this humiliation? The jury was still out.

Giving up for a few minutes, I ran the revelations of last night back through my mind.

My green-eyed assassin was the sexy red-headed Viking nudist?

What were the chances? I didn’t know whether to be thrilled or distressed because on the one hand, I seemed to have entered into some weird, kinky, sex game of chicken with the man, but then again, he wanted to kill me at the end of it.

I knew he was too damn good to be true. No man walks around looking that bloody edible without having major red flags.

He was a vampire seeker, likely a hybrid, and was disguising himself as a human, living in bloody Beryl’s house.

What was he doing? Seekers had never gone to these lengths to kill me before.

Usually, they just showed up and attacked.

They never showed themselves to humans, let alone live with any of them.

It put me on edge. This seeker was completely unhinged, and I was starting to realise how much danger I was putting the people of this village in.

I must have stayed there for another hour or two before I realised this wasn’t just a sick prank. The prick wasn’t coming back. And I needed a wee so bad, but there was no way I was pissing myself on top of everything else.

Weighing up my limited options, I realised there was only one way out of this. To scream at the top of my lungs for help until someone walking past the church might hear the commotion. Choosing to live a mile away from the nearest house suddenly felt like a terrible mistake.

It didn't last long before my voice cracked from the dryness of my throat. Great. I needed a drink on top of a wee.

Booming knocks on the front door caused my head to snap up off the pillow and my eyes widened.

“Hello?” I desperately shouted as loudly as my strained voice would allow.

“Miss Knightsbridge? Open the door, please. It’s the police,” a deep voice barely floated to my room.

Oh bollocks. What was the time? I was supposed to go to the station for questioning about the grave thing at ten.

The knocking became more persistent. Panic flooded through me. What the hell should I do?

“Miss Knightsbridge. Open the door.” PC Mawdly’s authoritative voice was much clearer this time.

“I, um, I can’t. I am a little tied up,” I shouted back, unsure if he could even hear me.

There was more persistent banging. I struggled on the bed, attempting to grab the duvet with my feet, but it was useless.

“Miss Knightsbridge. If you do not open this door within the next ten seconds, I will have no choice but to gain entry by force.”

Oh, fucking hell.

“I really can’t open the door, officer. This isn’t a choice!”

Seconds later, I heard a loud bang as someone kicked in my front door. I squirmed and screamed, trying my best to keep some modesty by finding the best position that wouldn’t give PC Mawdly an indecent view. That was also useless. Footsteps sounded up the stone stairs and I panicked.

“Don’t come in! I’m naked!”

“We’ve heard that one before.”

“No really! Is, um, PC Reid with you?”

There was a pause in footsteps. “Yes.”

“Can you send her in first so she can…clarify my situation?”

There was some mumbling, and then PC Reid appeared at the entrance of my bedroom door. Her brown eyes nearly fell out of her head as I gave her a tight smile and a little wave through the handcuffs.

“Um, yes,” she stuttered, her cheeks turning pink. “We, er, definitely have a situation.”

I exhaled slowly through my parted lips as my eyes darted around the sparse interrogation room.

I couldn’t stop rubbing my hands together nervously while waiting for the officers to come back in.

Thankfully, PC Reid covered me before PC Mawdly entered the room and broke the handcuffs with pliers.

They also kindly allowed me to have a shower before dragging my ass down to the station.

They only asked me two questions about the compromising and utterly humiliating position they had found me in.

Was I okay, and did I have something to report?

No. And no. I was very aware of how mentally unstable I was.

And did I want to report the man who was stalking me, breaking into my home, tying me to a bed and giving me the best orgasms of my life before he attempted to kill me?

It was very tempting, but for their own safety, because said man was a supernatural assassin who could kill them before they could blink, no. No, I had nothing to report.

The door opened and both officers entered. PC Reid with a sympathetic smile and PC Mawdly with a deep frown. Good cop, bad cop. Okay. Gotcha.

They both sat down opposite me and the looks in their eyes made my heart rate climb.

“Before we discuss the reason you are here, we would just like to ask again, are you sure you don’t have anything to report?”

I shook my head. “No. Um,” I exhaled again, avoiding PC Mawdly’s eyes and focusing on the woman instead. “Last night was, um, a sexual thing. It was all consensual.”

“But why would you be left like that?” PC Reid asked, narrowing her eyes. “If you are protecting someone, Miss Knightsbridge, they do not deserve it.”

I’m protecting you, you fool! I wanted to scream.

“It wasn’t like that. It, um, it’s part of it. Like a game we play. He would have come back eventually and let me go,” I lied.

They clearly weren’t buying this crap either.

“And all the blood? There was a lot of blood on your bedsheets.”

I tugged awkwardly at the turtle-neck jumper I was wearing to hide the noticeable fang marks on my neck and hated what I was about to say. “It’s my time of the month.”

Officer Mawdly suddenly choked on air. Officer Reid looked utterly horrified. I stared down at my hands as my cheeks turned crimson.

“Honestly, I’m really sorry you had to find me like that. It’s not a habit I make but I’m just exploring a few, um, new kinks.”

PC Mawdly cleared his throat after recovering. “I see. And your, er, partner in these activities…” He shuffled in his seat, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“No one local. He’s just visiting and will be leaving soon.

” Once again, their gazes told me they were doubtful but had no choice but to believe what I was feeding them.

Wanting to change the subject, even if it was to the crime I was suspected of committing, I said, “Shall we talk about the grave? Have you found who did it yet?”

Of course, I knew they hadn’t. And I knew they never would. Because the man they were looking for was a supernatural who didn’t leave traces of DNA behind. Lucky him.

PC Mawdly opened a folder with a sigh. “Do you recognise this, Miss Knightsbridge?”

I leaned forward to look at the photograph he had just pulled out and pushed towards me. A photo of a large shovel . Oh fuck.

“Um, yes. That’s mine. Well, actually, it's not. It was in the church when I moved in.” Stay as close to the truth as possible. That was the best way.

“We tested fragments of the soil found on the spade with that from the crime scene and found it matched,” he said, cocking his head to the side. My eyes widened, hoping to show my shock. “How do you explain that, Miss Knightsbridge?”

My eyes shifted over to PC Reid. She stared at me blankly. “I, um, don’t know. I guess whoever dug the grave up could have used it?”

“Seems the most logical explanation,” he said in a condescending tone. I licked my lips.

“I didn’t do it. If that is what you are implying. Anyone could have taken that spade and used it. I leave it out on the porch most of the time with the other gardening tools.”

“Except your fingerprints are the only ones found on it.”

I swallowed. My heart thundered. My palms were sweating. I couldn’t think clearly. Fuck. How? How did I get out of this?

PC Mawdly leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Why did you dig up the grave, Darcelle?”

“I didn’t!” Deny, deny, deny. “Do I need a lawyer? I think I need a lawyer.” I had no idea how to get a lawyer. My head swerved to the door. “Are you arresting me? Or am I free to go after this?”

“You are certainly not free to go, Miss Knightsbridge.”

“Why would I do this? Huh? Why would I dig up a grave for no reason on my own property? It makes no sense.”

The door opened again and another officer entered and placed a large, old book on the table between us. I stopped breathing. No. How did they get that?

“Do you recognise this?”

I shook my head, staring at the spell book I had stolen from the village's history museum to try and summon a demon. I’d left it behind when I time-weaved and when I went back for it the next day it was gone.

“This is an artefact that belongs in St Wythren’s history museum. Do you know where we found it?”

I shook my head again, my face paling and body shaking.

“In your church. Sitting right on the coffee table.” My eyes bulged. That fucking wanker! He set me up. “Which raises two more questions. How did it come to be in your possession? And what would you need a book like this for?”