Page 85 of Degradation

“Jesus Christ.” Ada says, rushing to me.

I tremble, flinching at her touch, even though I know she’s trying to help.

She pulls the covers off, and as I try to sit up, a wave of dizziness hits me so hard.

It feels disorientating. It feels wrong.

I can’t stop the panic attack that takes over.

Everything is black, no, not black, it’s worse than that, different than that. When I shut my eyes before, I could see thelight in the room beyond, I could make out things, make out movement.

Now, there is nothing. Not darkness, just the absence of everything.

I know I’m in my bed, I know the rough parameters of this space, but I’m blind. Completely and utterly I’m blind.

My tears start to fall but because my eye sockets are essentially wounds it hurts so much.

I hear Ada gasp as the true extent of what that monster did is revealed, and in my shame, I drop my head, crying out more as the cuts on my arms give way.

Everything hurts. Every muscle, every nerve, every single part of my body.

“It’s okay.” Ada says gently. “Perhaps it’s best if you just stay here in bed and…” Her voice trails off and I know who’s there, who’s suddenly appeared.

“Like a whore.” Gunther snarls from what sounds like so far away.

Dear God, please don’t let him want me right now. I can’t take it. I can’t even contemplate it. Every part of me, every cell in my body is in agony from what I endured last night. I know I can’t take anymore, I know it.

Gunther stalks over to me. I hear the thump as Ada is pushed out of the way and then he’s gripping my face, no doubt examining my mutilated body.

“Blake.” He hollers, making me jump more.

I think a part of me dies, I think a part of me truly, finally, shatters entirely as I hear that man strut in. I can feel his presence, even if I can’t see it. I feel him standing there, towering over us all.

“You did all this?” Gunther says, like he thinks I just woke up and did it myself.

“I did.” Devin replies, his voice completely devoid of anything.

“You cut her skin?” He drags a finger across one of the deeper slices and searing hot pain explodes at the contact. “Why?” Gunther asks, ignoring my whimpers like he can’t hear them.

I hear the rustle of fabric as someone shrugs. “Why not?” Devin says.

It’s a lie. I know it is. I remember every word he said, every bit of it. That these are a form of ownership, that this bastard did this on purpose, not on a whim.

I open my mouth to say so, but my husband’s laughter cuts through everything “God, I thought Magnus was the fucked up one of you Blakes, turns out you’re even worse.”

Devin doesn’t reply. He just stands there, mute and yet just as deadly as ever.

I thought I hated him before, but what I feel now, it’s not hate, it’s something far, far deeper than that.

I don’t leavethis room for days. I feel like I’m trapped in a crime scene. Trapped in my own body in a way I can now never escape.

The doctor has to come to sort out the mess that is my eyes. He cleans the wounds, confirms what I already know, that my nerves have been severed, that there’s no chance, even if I had a transplant, that I’d get my sight back.

Every day, Ada rubs something into those nasty wounds all over my skin. It stings but it also soothes. She tells me that it will help it to heal, that it will reduce the scarring, but I know that won’t happen.

Devin didn’t just carve willy nilly. He cut with intention. He cut me in a way to ensure it would last on my body until I was a rotting corpse.

When I’m finally able to move without ripping the scabs open, I’m escorted back through the Palace and back to Gunther’s suite.