With Elsa as his safe haven, it could’ve gone on like this forever and he would have been content. But he knew it was only temporary because nothing good in his life ever lasted. It was always fleeting. There was still more darkness to come. He could feel it just below the surface of his false security, threatening to tear down the refuge that his Peach had provided for him.

With Elsa finally sleeping, he grabbed his personal journal. He had been avoiding writing his thoughts all day. But it was time to have a come to Jesus meeting with Mr. Black for having harmed Elsa.

There have been too many fucked up days in my life to count.

My insides are twisted in knots and my brain overflowing with the whos, whens, whys and what ifs. What if I hadn’t gotten to Elsa in time? What if she had been killed? I’m surrounded by death, yet to lose one of my own, someone who means something to me… Where would I be without her? What would I be without her? How would I tell her family that I didn’t protect her? That it was my fault that she was dead? Ceaseless questions. Questions that have no answers. Questions that need no answers because I was there in time.

The man who tried to kill Elsa. Who the hell is he? Nothing in my life happens without reasoning behind it. His smile. Jesus, that smile. Something isn’t right. I can feel it crawling under my skin like an insect trying to burrow its way out of a corpse. I need answers. Why Elsa? Why now? I will demand answers. Tomorrow. And the next and the next until I get the answers I want.

It turns out our night from hell was only a prelude to the horror of facing my past and memories long since forgotten. I made leaps and bounds today, only to backtrack and sidestep. That always seems to be the way with me. Never facing my past while lying to myself that it makes no difference what happened to me. It does matter. I see that now.

Nature vs. nurture.

I’ve read the books about it. I’ve studied them and written endless reports on the subject. It’s neither one nor the other in my case. It’s both. I am what I am not only because of the tainted DNA coursing through my veins, but because of the environment I was raised in.

I thought I could handle answering Elsa’s questions. They’re just memories, after all. The past is the past and the woman who gave birth to me and who made my life hell, is long dead. As for my father, he’s merely an insignificant distraction.

But I was wrong to think facing my demons could be easily brushed off. It’s difficult to be logical and unbiased when looking inward. Mr. Black is clouding my judgment. He’s always clouded my judgment and I’m growing to hate him. What he did today, what I allowed him to do today, was deplorable. What I’ve put those people through… all those women, Jordan… unforgivable .

But I take pleasure in the game. I can’t deny it. I love the smell of apprehension and the dilating of pupils from fear. And my enjoyment of it has nothing to do with Mr. Black, that’s all me, Victor. It’s the sadist in me. However, it’s not the deliverance of pain that I crave, it’s the feeling of authority and power that surges through me when I have complete control over another human being. It’s the gift of submission given willingly that I can’t live without.

I can’t give that up. I won’t. I couldn’t even if I tried. There has to be some way to find a middle ground for what my mind craves and my body needs; some way to accept that part of me that I find objectionable and make it acceptable.

Where there’s a will there’s a way. Elsa has taught me that. And I will find a way to come to terms with my inner darkness. What other choice do I have? None if I want to keep my sanity. But what good is my sanity if Elsa isn’t there to catch me when I fall? And I will fall. I’m already falling. Slowly at times, uncontrollably at others, but always, steadily I’m descending downward in an endless spiral... I pray she catches me. 

18: Consistent

Two days had passed since Victor’s horrific revelation and the day that would go down in history as Elsa’s worst and most cherished time with him. The way he took care of her, his kindness, his attention… Those moments would forever be etched into her memory. The rest of that day, she just wanted to forget.

As nice as her recollections of his gentleness were, she was still on edge after being attacked, and found it hard to concentrate at work. Mr. Black’s rules were still running in the background, adding to her anxiety. The game wasn’t over yet; she knew that much. If there was anything she could count on, it was Victor’s consistency to always keep her guessing and Mr. Black’s ability to find new ways to torment her.

When she received a mysterious text message to meet him at a historic hotel downtown, she knew it was time to repay him. After what he had shared with her, it was the least she could do for him. The very least.

The message read very similar to the one on the night of her birthday, but she doubted there would be any male-on-male action again in her near future after her hissy fit. Too bad for her. Thinking back, she had been an asshole for having interrupted what could’ve been the hottest thing she ever witnessed.

She set aside her work project early and texted her brother. She didn’t have the courage yet to tell either her mother or brother about the attack, especially after Nick found out about Victor.

In her message folder, three more texts popped up from Nate. She stared at her phone for a long moment before deciding not to open them or respond. His visit to her house the previous night hadn’t gone well. After reading her name in the paper about the assault, they ended up in a heated argument when he demanded answers. What did he want to hear? Sure as hell not the truth.

What was the truth, anyway? She had lost track of what she had made up in her head and what was reality. Victor always had that effect on her - blurring her mental ability to make sense of things and wrecking her ability to see logic. He had done it before and this time was no different. Even though she had tried, her time with him was turning out exactly the way it had before – with her falling for Victor and their inevitable demise looming in the background. All it would take for the game to end would be for Mr. Black to rear his nasty head and do something irreversibly fucked up.

Like threatening to burn her with a cigarette or hitting her again.

The memory still lingered like an unwanted lover. Like Nate. And like Victor. Both of them wanting what she couldn’t give them… her heart. Both of them not giving her what she needed… their love.

“Fuck my life,” she grumbled under her breath.

It really was fucked and so was she, both literally and figuratively speaking.

*

An hour and a half later, Elsa arrived at the hotel.

Her instructions were to shower at the Washington Hotel and dress in the attire Victor had provided for her. The front desk had a key waiting for her, but she was too taken aback at the beauty of the lobby to pay attention to what the clerk was telling her. The many times she had driven past the hotel, it reminded her of a castle she had seen in pictures when she was a child. Taking in her lush surroundings, she tried to imagine what her fate for the evening was. The elevator ride to her top floor suite had her nerves on edge as she tried to mentally prepare herself for repayment. She hoped it was Victor coming out to play and not Mr. Black.

When she entered the room, she was staggered at the opulence and elegance within the suite. With surroundings like this, she would rather spend the night in than go anywhere. That feeling became even more prevalent when she saw the attire that he had laid out on the bed. With each garment she picked up, a sinking feeling came over her.