Souls Unfractured

I felt like I should know why. But I never understood other people.

Vike pointed at my cabin door. “Get inside. Get your head down.”

I opened my door and walked inside, confused at my brother’s emotion. Scanning the room, my things were just as I left them: knives, leathers, guns.

Then I looked to my right, and to the floor. The scalding blood in my veins hit me like a freight train when I fixed my gaze on that hatch, at the back of the living room. I held my breath as a slice of pain stabbed through my stomach and I felt the flames once more. I closed my eyes and stumbled in the direction of my knives.

I picked up the old steel knife. The one I always used. I stared at the knife. Felt the evil filling my veins; the fire crawling to the surface. Then I felt my cock get hard. Felt it push at the zipper of my leathers. And I knew he’d be in my head any minute.

Breathing fast, muscles pumped and dick hard, I stumbled to the hatch. Lifting the knife, I held it between my teeth. It was dark, no light on this side of the room, but my eyes were fixed on that hatch.

Then the voice in my head stirred.

His voice.

The voice that never fucking left me alone.

“Strip,” he ordered, his rough voice loud in my head. Teeth biting down on the knife’s handle, I hissed, and my eyes rolled back. In seconds I’d ripped off my cut.

“All of them, boy,” he growled, and I heard the crack of his leather belt follow the command.

My cock throbbed and tested the zipper of my leathers. Reaching down, my hands slammed to cup it in my hands. I squeezed and squeezed harder again, my fist iron-tight until my legs shook, then a roar tore from my throat.

“All of them, boy,” he demanded again. “Get all of them gone.”

Releasing my granite cock, I snapped the button of the leathers, yanking them apart and wrenched them down my legs.

My shoulders tightened and my chest heaved waiting for the next command. My hands were balled into fists at my side, my untouched cock aching, hard and waiting.

My eyes were shut, my teeth gripping harder on the blade, when the voice suddenly commanded, “Get on the floor.”

My legs dropped from beneath me onto the small hatch built into my cabin’s floor. I grabbed the blade from my mouth, and with my other hand, took hold of my dick. Curling my fingers around my flesh, I let my long nails dig in, hissing at the flash of blinding pain.

I moaned. I moaned loud and my hips thrust forward. My hand started to move; back and forth, back and forth. It hurt. It burned… it felt so fucking good.

This was what I needed.

This was what I fucking needed.

My mouth dropped open as my hand worked faster. My body tensed as I felt the fire spiking up my spine. The pressure built in my balls. But I couldn’t come. It was there. The fire, the flames needing to get out. But I needed… I needed…

In a flash, the steel blade cut down my thigh, the sharp edge slicing into my flesh. Blood pooled at the wound, as the voice hissed, “One.” He counted me on with each strike. “Two.” My hand worked faster and faster up and down my dick, my sharp nails clawing into my thin skin. “Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…” I hunched over, my breath hissing through my gritted teeth as the voice, and the blade’s deep strikes, built me higher and higher. “Ten,” the voice called louder, blood dripping down my thighs and onto the hatch.

Body tensing, I braced for the final command. My hand squeezed tight, nails shredding my cock, the blade stabbing deep into my thigh. Then the voice thundered, “ELEVEN!” With a rush of pure heat, every muscle inside my body roared with fire. My bones shook with pent up rage, and with a pained scream, I came. I came so fucking hard that my head threw back and my blade clattered to the floor.

I fought to breathe, my exhausted body slumping forward. But when I caught my breath, the usual slam of nausea rolled in my stomach, my body lurching to the side as I wretched into the waiting bucket beside me.

When there was nothing left in my stomach, the emptiness was replaced with the rush of shame I felt every night. Every night after I’d cut myself, purged and obeyed his voice.

My head hung as I felt cum on my legs, mixing with the blood on the floor beneath me. Shifting my aching tired body, I wrapped my arms around my waist and fell down to lie on the floor. Sucking in a stuttered breath, my chest wheezing from my release, I laid over the hatch on the hard cold floor. I closed my eyes, and tried my best to sleep.

His voice, inside my head, quiet for now.

Chapter Four

Maddie

I loved to draw.

It was something I had discovered in my many nights spent alone in my bedroom.