Memory Integration (2)

A week passed in the town, and the world seemed to fall back into its dull rhythm. Ariana had pushed the nightmare out of her mind, forcing herself to forget the chilling encounter with the lord, as if it had been a bad dream. She had no choice—there was work to be done, money to be saved for her sister's coming-of-age gift. Life had to go on. But what she didn't know, what no innocent soul could ever comprehend, was the insatiable lust that stirred within men like the lord she had offended.

The powerful were like hunters, and when they set their sights on a prey, they waited. They waited patiently, savoring the anticipation, like a starving wolf watches a lamb from the shadows. For these men, no matter how much they indulged in sex, no matter how many women they violated, their lust could never be satisfied. It wasn't just about the physical act—it was about the hunt, about breaking something pure, about watching hope wither in someone's eyes.

And the old lord, the one Ariana had foolishly slapped in the face, was no exception. His twisted mind could not forget her—her innocence, her purity. She was everything he had not yet destroyed. The way she had looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes, her soft, untouched body, her ignorance of the pleasures of the flesh—it drove him mad with desire. He wanted to be the one to introduce her to those dark desires, to see her expression change as she was forced to experience his touch.

He craved it. He needed it. And he would have it.

The lord stood in front of his grand mansion, pacing restlessly, the rocky mountains looming behind like a silent witness to his debauchery. His mansion sat high above the town, a symbol of his wealth and power, while the common folk toiled below, insignificant ants in his eyes. He walked back and forth, his cane stomping against the cobblestone, fury simmering in his veins. He was dressed in a fine Victorian-era suit, complete with a pocket watch that he checked obsessively. His short, squat figure shook with barely restrained rage. His beady, lust-filled eyes darted around, his face twisted into an expression that had instilled horror into countless others.

Finally, one of his servants approached, his face pale with dread. "My lord," the servant stammered, bowing deeply. "Big Mann has sent word. He has found the girl and will bring her to you shortly. Just one more day, my lord, and—"

Before the servant could finish, the lord's cane whipped through the air, striking him across the face. The force of the blow sent the servant reeling, blood dripping from his lip. The lord glared down at him, seething. "Another day?! You think I will wait another day, you filthy wretch? Tell Big Mann if that girl is not in my chambers tomorrow, I will burn everything. I will burn everyone! Do you hear me?!"

Drool dribbled from the corner of the old man's mouth as he screamed, his face flushed with fury and disgusting lust. The servant, trembling and bleeding, scrambled to his feet, bowing low. "Y-yes, my lord... I will tell him myself. Please, forgive me, my lord."

"Get out of my sight," the lord snarled. He kicked the servant hard in the ribs, sending him to the ground once more. "And send that new maid to my chambers tonight. Make sure she doesn't cause any trouble."

The servant's heart sank. The "new maid" was his lover, the woman he had promised to marry. They had saved every coin they could, planning for a simple, honest life together. He had never touched her, not once, out of respect for their vow to each other—to only embrace once they were wed. But now... now the lord had set his sights on her. The thought was like a dagger in his chest.

"My lord... please," the servant begged, falling to his knees, his voice cracking. "She... she is new. She doesn't know the ways of the manor. She won't satisfy you, my lord. Let me send someone more experienced, someone who—"

Before he could finish, the cane struck him again, harder this time. The servant fell to the ground, his body writhing in pain as the lord stood over him, his face twisted with malice. "Are you defying me?" the lord spat. "You disgusting, lowborn dog! You dare question me?! Bring her to my chambers tonight, or I will make sure you, her, and her entire family are executed by dawn. Do you understand me?"

The servant lay there, his body shaking, tears of helplessness burning in his eyes. He could barely choke out the words. "Yes... my lord. I will send her... tonight."

"Now go." The lord waved him off, disgusted. "And tell Big Mann that if he doesn't deliver the girl tomorrow, he will face execution."

The servant rose shakily to his feet, his heart shattered, his mind numb with despair. His whole life had been dedicated to saving enough to marry his childhood sweetheart, the woman he loved more than life itself. They had waited, resisted temptation, honored their promise to each other. And now, in one night, everything was being torn apart. She would be ruined, broken, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Every hour that passed was torture. He could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, knowing that soon, he would have to deliver her into the hands of a monster. He had thought of every possible way to escape it, to stop what was coming—but there was no way out. No matter what he did, no matter what desperate ideas filled his mind, the truth was unchangeable: he was powerless.

The night was approaching, and with it, the end of everything he held dear.

Dane staggered through the dimly lit hallways of the manor, his ribs aching from the lord's vicious strike. His mind was spinning, a swirling pit of despair. He had to reach her—his childhood love, his everything. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the agony in his heart. He stumbled, his legs barely able to hold him up, until finally, he reached her door. His trembling hands pushed it open, and with a dull thud, he collapsed to the floor, broken and defeated.

In the adjacent room, Anna had just finished bathing. She was still in her undergarments, about to change into her nightclothes, far more comfortable than the humiliating maid's uniform she was forced to wear during the day. The lord's twisted demands had forced all the maids to dress in short skirts and tight tops, their breasts barely covered, and their panties visible with every bow and movement. It was demeaning, but they had no choice in the matter.

Anna's black hair, still damp from the bath, clung to her shoulders, and her curvaceous figure, a sight of untouched beauty, was on full display. Despite her voluptuous G-cup breasts, her smooth, thick thighs, and her flawless skin, she had never been touched by a man, never given in to the lustful glances thrown her way. She had waited, saved herself for the day she and Dane could be married, their love finally untainted by the filthy world they lived in.

But when she heard the thud from the other room, her heart stopped. Anxious, she rushed out, still in nothing but her bra and panties, her body radiant in the soft moonlight filtering through the window. When she saw Dane lying on the floor, tears welled in her eyes. His face was bruised, a dark mark from the lord's cane stark against his pale skin.

"What happened?" she cried, kneeling beside him, her hands trembling as she touched his face. "Who did this to you?"

Dane couldn't meet her eyes. He stared at the floor, his heart breaking as he spoke, his voice hollow and shaking. "It's over, Anna. Everything we dreamed of… it's all over. Everything is ruined."

Anna's heart clenched with dread. She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him gently, her voice desperate. "What do you mean? Why are you saying this? What happened?"

Dane finally lifted his eyes to hers, and she could see the tears glistening in them. "The lord... he—he wants you. He wants you in his chambers tonight."

The words hit Anna like a hammer, knocking the breath from her lungs. She stumbled back, her mind reeling from the shock. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, her eyes wide with terror. The color drained from her face as she remembered the stories—what happened to the other maids who had been summoned to the lord's chambers. None of them ever returned. Their bodies were never found. Only their screams, echoing through the manor late at night, told the tale of the horror they had endured.

The lord was a monster. And now, he had set his sights on her.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing shallow and frantic. She couldn't speak, couldn't move. The thought of what awaited her in that room made her blood run cold. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her mind numb with fear.

Dane rushed to her side, shaking her gently. "Anna, wake up. Please, wake up." He splashed water on her face, his hands shaking with desperation. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and the reality of her situation hit her like a flood. She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, throwing her arms around him.

"What do I do?" she cried, her voice trembling with terror. "I don't want to go. Please, Dane, save me. I don't want to go to him. Please, don't let him take me!"

Dane held her tightly, his heart shattering with every sob that escaped her lips. He knew he couldn't let her go to the lord. He couldn't let her be destroyed like the others. He made a decision, one that could cost them both their lives, but it was the only way.

"Anna, listen to me," he said, his voice firm despite the fear gnawing at him. "We'll run away. Tonight. We'll leave the town, leave everything behind. We'll escape this place. We'll be free."

Anna looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Run away?"

"Yes. We'll leave before night falls. I'll find a cart, and we'll leave the town. We'll escape from him, from this nightmare." He cupped her face, brushing away her tears. "We can make it. I promise, we can."

Her heart pounded in her chest. Run away? Could they really escape? The lord had power, influence. He would hunt them. But the alternative—the thought of going to his chambers—was far worse.

Anna nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Okay. Let's run away."

Dane helped her to her feet, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Go pack your things," he told her. "Nothing too much, just what you need. I'll get a cart ready. We'll meet outside the mansion in two hours. Don't tell anyone, Anna. We have to be careful."

Anna nodded again, still trembling, but determined. She had no choice. It was their only chance. Dane kissed her forehead softly, trying to give her some measure of comfort.

"Be ready," he whispered. "We'll be free."

With that, he left her room, his mind racing as he hurried to make preparations for their escape. They had no time. The night was closing in, and with it, the lord's twisted desire. They had to leave, and they had to leave now.

The two hours seemed to stretch on for eternity as Anna quietly slipped through the manor gates, her heart pounding in her chest. The sun had nearly set, casting a soft orange glow over the horizon, but the creeping darkness of night was fast approaching. In her hand, she clutched a small bag, packed with a few essential items: bread, some clothes, a bit of money she had managed to save, and a few personal things that felt like small pieces of home.

As she made her way past the gates, her eyes darting nervously around, she saw him—Dane, standing beside a rundown cart tethered to two worn-out horses. He looked anxious, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. When Anna spotted him, she felt the tiniest bit of relief wash over her. She ran towards him, her bag bouncing against her side.

"Come on, hurry," Dane urged in a low, tense voice, motioning for her to climb up into the cart. She nodded quickly, scrambling into the cart, her hands shaking as she pulled herself up. Dane tossed a hood over her head and another over his own, the fabric rough but necessary to hide their identities. The night was almost upon them, and the manor's shadow loomed in the distance as they began their escape.

The cart creaked under the weight of their bodies as the horses began to move slowly, their hooves clopping softly against the dirt road. Dane directed the cart away from the town center, taking the most deserted path he could find—north, towards the outskirts. The streets that had been bustling with townsfolk enjoying the night were now distant, growing fainter as they made their way towards freedom.

The moon rose high in the sky, its pale light cutting through the canopy of trees that now surrounded them. The shadows of the forest loomed over them, but the cool glow of the moon offered a strange sense of peace. As they moved further from the town, Anna let out a sigh of relief.

"We did it, Anna," Dane whispered, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced at her. "We're free."

A soft, nervous laugh escaped Anna's lips, and she nodded, the tension in her body finally beginning to ease. She could almost imagine their future now—far away from the lord's reach, where they could live in peace, without fear or torment. Dane quickened the pace of the cart, eager to put as much distance as possible between them and the hell they were escaping.

But then, a loud crack shattered the quiet of the night.

The cart lurched violently to one side as one of the wheels struck something hard in the road. Anna cried out as she and Dane were thrown from the cart, tumbling onto the dirt. The horses, startled by the sudden jolt, broke free from their reins and bolted into the woods, their hooves pounding away into the distance.

"Anna!" Dane scrambled to his feet, his voice frantic as he searched for her in the darkness.

"I'm here," Anna's weak voice came from a few feet away. She was lying on the ground, dazed but alive. Dane rushed to her side, kneeling beside her and pulling her into his lap. "Are you okay?"

Anna winced, but nodded. "Just a few scratches," she whispered, her breath shaky. Dane exhaled in relief, brushing a hand through her hair. "We're alright, we're still alright."

But the cart was ruined, one of its wheels completely shattered. The horses were long gone, and now they were stranded in the eerie woods, far from town, far from help.

"We need to keep moving," Dane said, his voice tense as he helped Anna to her feet. "We can't stay here."

They began walking through the woods, hand in hand, their steps slow and cautious. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent shivers down their spines. The trees loomed overhead, their branches casting long shadows in the moonlight, making the forest feel alive, like it was watching them. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the occasional sound of something moving in the distance. They tried to remain calm, but the feeling of being watched lingered.

And then they heard it.

Footsteps.

Someone—or something—was approaching them.

Fear gripped them both, and without thinking, they began to run. Their feet pounded against the forest floor as they dashed through the trees, their breath coming in ragged gasps. The footsteps behind them grew louder, closer. Panic surged through Anna as she glanced back, her heart hammering in her chest.

They ran until their legs could carry them no further, their bodies collapsing in exhaustion near a large tree. They huddled together, their breaths coming in sharp, shallow pants. The footsteps had stopped. The woods were silent again, save for the wind rustling through the trees. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was just their imagination, their fear playing tricks on them.

Dane held Anna close, whispering words of comfort as they tried to catch their breath.

But then, out of nowhere, a rough cloth was thrown over their heads. They struggled, their hands clawing at the rags, but before they could free themselves, there was a dull thud—a heavy blow struck the back of their heads.

Everything went black.

Anna and Dane collapsed to the ground, unconscious, as the shadowy figures that had been following them stood over their limp bodies.