• I could not breathe, I could not scream. The cloth covering my mouth was tied to tight. I could feel my lips go numb from the pressure. I tried to move, only to have the bonds holding my hands together restrict. I can no longer feel my hands. My legs faired no better. The constant chatter of mice by my feet only resulted in the unsettling of my stomach. Even if I tried, I would not be able to quall the churning so close in my throat. Why I was here was still unknown to me. Did I anger someone? I tried to concentrate. Did I have any enemies? No, I have no enemies, then why am I here? Despair seeped into my bones. I started to heave, only to choke on the tears that soaked the white cloth covering my mouth.

    My sobs of anguish and confusion filled the small room, if you can even call it that. The grime covered walls spoke of past transgressions. Even though it was dark, I can still make out the shackles hanging off the wall two feet from me. The once silver shackles were now coated with a thin layer of dried blood. Obviously showing that someone had tried to tear them out of the wall, only to end up with vicious new wounds. I felt something trying to crawl up my leg, looking down I had to choke back a scream. Beady red eyes stared up at me almost innocently. If not for the thin layer of hunger shown I would have giggled. They thought I was their next meal, and I may as well be.

    Whoever brought me here didn’t intend to let me go alive. I glanced to the right, I never noticed before, but there was someone else in the room with me. Though, looking at his condition, I doubt he was alive. And true to that statement, rats and maggots covered him, nibbling on his exposed skin, tearing into his cold flesh. I looked away; hot tears flowed unstopped down my cheeks, only to cradle my nose before being soaked up by the cloth. The taste and smell of salt water kept me from totally loosing focus. I guess you can call it my natural smelling salts.

    I was vaguely aware there was a door behind me. How else could I have gotten in here? I strained my ears; I could faintly hear the constant tapping of footsteps. They were coming closer. My heart sped up. The closer they got the more I began to hyperventilate. ‘Please,’ I thought, ‘God please let me live through whatever is about to happen.’ The footsteps stopped, right in front of the door. I held my breath, not daring to breathe case it was all a dream. Maybe someone was here to save me. A sob escaped my throat. Who was I kidding? I was God knows where and I still held onto a thin ray of hope? If whoever held me captive didn’t kill me, then I was sure to go insane and end up killing myself.

    I heard the jingle of keys, and the lock slide open, a sound that was strangely comforting, the keys held the same jingle as the wind chimes that swayed outside my window. I braced myself, whatever was about to happen, I would be prepared. The door groaned with the effort, that sound signaled what this place, wherever it may be, was old. The rusted hinges attested to that. The groaning grew louder as the door opened even further. Suddenly, the door opened so fast that hit the wall and bounced, then, it happened, the sound of crunching bones. My head snapped to the right where the body of the boy sat. the vomit escaped my mouth before I could even stop it, staining the white cloth covering my mouth. When the door was forcibly opened, the boy was used as a doorstopper. His legs were bent at an odd angle, the front of his head was smashed in, blood slowly seeped down his exposed throat, before coating his already bloodied shirt.

    I stopped my dry heaving when I heard chuckling in the doorway. Not expecting the sudden sound I froze, my body tense. I heard the swishing of water as, from what I could tell; a man approached me from behind. The unknown man chuckled again, lifting up his left hand; he rested it on my shoulder, while his right hand went to the knot that held the cloth in place. With one quick jerk, it was removed, and I could breathe normally again. Coughing up the vomit that was still in my throat, I wheezed with the effort. The man’s arm wound around the front of my body, resting on my collarbone, while his hand rested on my shoulder. He leaned forward, his mouth settling next to my ear. He chuckled. I was doomed, I could tell. I could feel the heat of his breath against my damp skin, leaving in its wake, an uncomfortable feeling. A feeling I hoped I would never experience again.

    I tried to shy away from his touch, which only resulted in the tightening of his hold on me. I whimpered. Turning my head, I was barely able to glance at the man that held me captive, but as quick as lightening, he held my head firmly in place. The man chuckled. “Not now love, you will see soon enough.” It was the first time I truly heard his voice. It was pleasant to the ears; it soothed my nerves, making me relax enough to where I lay limp on his arms. He chuckled again. Almost to himself he whispered, “Too trusting, so innocent.” He purred the last words. I was shaken out of my unresponsive state when he moved in front of me. I panicked. I didn’t like this, why me? WHY ME? I tried to shake the feeling that I was about to die. I didn’t do any good. The tears fell anew.

    The man stretched out his hand and lifted a tear that was trailing emotions down my cheek. Even though there was hardly any light, I could see his mouth; I watched in fear as he smiled, I shrank back. His teeth were black and pointed. He bent down to my eye level, in doing so, showing his face to me. Deep red eyes smiled at me, the smiling eyes held no malice, only deep unveiled hunger. And, just with the mice, I feared them, for they held all the power. “The devil.” I whispered. He let out a booming laugh, the harsh sound echoing off the small space we were in. the shadows shielding his face gave illusions of grandeur. He looked so ethereal, so inhuman, that I shivered. When I saw him I expected him to look like a serial killer, not like a model!

    He stood up; looking down at me he smirked. “Not what you were expecting, love?” His hand cradled my cheek, fearing his touch I quickly turned my head to the right. He frowned. “You need to be more polite to your host, my dear.” Before I knew it, my eyes were staring right into his, his hand held my head firmly in place. “Look at me when I speak to you!” His voice turned from the calm and sultry baritone to a roaring fire of denied fury. My eyes widened. I could do nothing but watch as he held my head firmly in place. If he wanted to, I realized, he could easily snap my neck. This notion only fueled the deep fear I had for this man. He seemed to calm down as the tears leaked out of my eyes. His eyes softened from a burning inferno to glowing embers that sparked back to life from time to time.

    Standing up he walked around to where I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was behind me. The rats cried as he made his way toward the door, looking back he smiled, though I couldn’t see it. “You will me mine!” He announced those words with suck pride that I began to believe him, that was until the metal door slammed shut once more, leaving me in utter darkness again.

    He came back several times after that over the past few weeks that I began to crave for his presence, just as he had planned. Then, after the first month of being trapped in that revolting room, that he did as he promised. He made me his. He took a knife from his dark black shirt and slit his palm, then doing the same to mine. He let his hand bleed into a golden bowl; lifting it up to my lips he made me drink. He repeated the act but with my blood, he drank from the bowl, not once breaking eye contact with me. Once finished he smiled the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Even with the blackened teeth I found him God like in appearance. “We are bound.” He announced. I could only look at him in confusion, since I had no notion on what being “Bound” meant. “We are what you humans call ‘married’.”

    After he said that did I truly realize what this all meant,

    I was the devil’s wife.