Something was wrong with Jeremy. He figured that out when he saw your neck, that he once remarked with his teeth and tongue and knife, was now a blank canvas ready to be used and abused again. He found himself not quite liking the fact he could see your vein and arteries. He made himself a mental note to have you under him to mark it again with his mouth.

He also figured out something was wrong with you. He confronted you about it once, but he never brought it up again. He saw the way you would walk with your gaze lost in the horizon. The way you would sit in your car and stare out the window for at least twenty minutes before you actually started your car. The was you disassociated from the world several times a day. He was curious, that’s all.

Jeremy watched you enter your car, and before you could fully close it, he grabs the door with his hand and tugs it open, knowing you wouldn’t be able to close it back up without him ripping the entire door off in one fell swoop. He forced you onto his bike, giving you little time to protest and adding a threat to expose your kink to your friends before he drives off.

Jeremy knew you wouldn’t want your kink exposed to your friends, who thought you were an innocently introvert with no sex life. Until Jeremy pried his way into your life and took you until you could walk. Now he was taking you to his vacation house and forced food down your pretty little throat, because you refused to eat, then he offers a game. He didn’t give you a choice. He handed you the metal without anything inside, but you didn’t know that

He sat you in his lap like the good girl you were, and pushed the metal to your head. The game was simple. Answer and shoot. Whoever is unlucky, well, boo hoo. He gripped your waist so ensure you couldn’t escape. “Me first. Tell me, Lisichka, what drives a confident girl like you to the point of dissociating from the world?” He asks, his tone demanding. He wanted to know why entertain demons when therapy was an option.