Sexual Desires

Isadora could not say anything. She could but the words were stuck in her mouth that it was even difficult to groan out her pain.

She tried lifting her head but before she knew it, she was carried. Her stomach was sticking to Elvis's shoulder and her head weakly resting on his back, "Let go of me, you bloody man!" She immediately found her words but this man wasn't listening to her he was smiling at her, she did not see him smile but she knew he was.

Her eyes were still closed, the pain that she got from that powerful blow had reduced but the initial pain from the poison was still rotating. "Elvis, please I...I need to go."

"Your pleads wouldn't have worked earlier, neither this moment."

She heard him say and her fists clenched into a ball. She was trying to control her burning anger. No! She couldn't do this! She had killed too many people not to survive this.

What could she do?

Before she could think of what to do she felt him climbing the stairs. "Please...I need to save someone."

He stopped abruptly, "Who?"

Her eyes widened at his question, could he tell him? Could she say that the person was Oswald? Wouldn't she be questioned about who this person was that she did all these for?

Not thinking anymore, she bit his shoulder and attempted to kick him but his hands were restricting, "Do not dare me." He warned.

Elvis walked to the third floor leading to the dungeon. When he got there, he unlocked the door and put her down. "This would be your new chamber for the rest of the month."

Isadora felt as if she was immediately exposed to ice. She was already used to his warm embrace before he dropped her.

Her face was pale, her stomach felt slimmer than before.

Elvis kept looking at her reaction, he wanted to know if there was any sign of defeat but still he could not see any.

Isadora's eyes fell on the two small windows that were high. The room was completely dark and the only source of light was from those windows and a lantern that was placed in the middle. She could not tell what the room was for. All she wanted was to escape from this bloody castle. Her stay here could not do but cause agony to her day after day.

She stared at Elvis painstakingly and with confusion partly drawn on her face. "Where is this place? And why am I here?"

"People who trespass the rules are either slaughtered or hanged, since his lordship needs you alive, you are taken to the torture room."

"Quite funny." She acknowledged, "It's a shame you have no idea that your lord is dead. I stabbed him and I would not hesitate to do that right now." She said, though she had no weapons remaining she stared at him offering him the same menacing glare he had used on her the very first day they met.

"And why do I think you are about to stab me again?" He said, his cheeks forming into a sly smile but his eyes were still ink black and cold.

"I'm too weak to cause more harm," she said, matter-of-factly, but added, "and I would not hesitate if I have a weapon with me?" She completed, though it was a question, a logical person would read it as a statement.

Her legs were too weak but they were still able to walk around him. She did not know what she was doing but she hoped her body and her brain gained the energy they needed to escape somehow, somewhat. She felt Oswald needed her. That dream was a warning. She rarely had dreams and those dreams were nightmares just like that of her twin brother. The worse part of it was that those dreams come true. Before this come true, she would do all means to stop it.

Fox was a symbol. It meant something else. Something dangerous.

"You never give up, do you?" Elvis questioned, his eyes were a bit wide but still, they remained sinister. As he had told her, he was interested in her and every single word and action made him drawn to her more. From the very day, she had talked back at him, he had been awestruck as he had never seen a woman as brave as she was.

"I do give up," she said, wryly. "It depends on what I am giving up on."

"So why are you not giving up yet?" he said, holding her to stop her continuous encircling movement. He knew this woman do not know what was coming for her. She possibly did not know how angry his lordship was towards her and what torture he had planned for her. It was clear that she was Delilah, he only needed her to confirm it, and then, whatever his lordship plan was, it would go smoothly.

Isadora looked around the room, she could feel the cemented floor beneath her bare feet. The room alone scared the hell out of her. It looked dark because it was large and freezing. She dared not stay longer, let alone, alone.

Trying to think of something, she bent her neck a little, she instinctively raised her neck back because of the pain she was feeling, "Do you plan to harass your master's mistress?" She questioned. Her eyes going in between her hand and his. He was holding her a bit too protecting.

Hearing what she said his eyes brushed down her whole body. He had not noticed that she was on a night dress that was beneath a robe. And if she moved her hand across the robe the rope would untie immediately. He started at her neck. It suddenly felt enticing. Her blood suddenly scented like a warm coffee, so sweet and calming.

Isadora noticed all the staring, though she felt disgusted, she was glad her plan was falling into place. "Is that not a trespass?" She said and loosened her hand from his. This time his hold was not restricting.

He swallowed. His eyes did not leave hers, she was too tempting. Every single part of her was. Especially her blood. He could feel his fangs rising. How could she...

Before he could say anything any further, she bent down to pick a stone her toes had been pressing down on.

Her eyes rolled down to the stone and before she could say a thing, she hit the stone on her forehead with a scream. After trying to ease the pain with a single finger, she asked, her eyes blinking, "Does the wound look like a slap...or...a blow." She threw the stone some metres before her and hesitated before walking there to take it back, "Perhaps I could use it for something else. " She inserted the stone somewhere in her night dress. "And the wound up here," pointing at her self-inflicted injury, "Let's just say you raped me. If your lord is not dead yet, then he should believe his mistress rather than a man with a flesh, who possibly has sexual desires." She finished. "Or don't you feel the urge to eat me up?" She sighed, "not literally of course."