RAW FLESH
BY RICARDO GONÇALVES
CAPTIVITY
The concrete sucked the heat from her skin, leaving her shivering against the grey, unyielding walls. He stood in the shadows, a silent predator whose gaze was a physical weight, pinning her to the floor. There were no chains, yet she couldn't move, her will dissolved by the cold precision of his silence.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low, jagged blade.
She tilted her head back, exposing the pale arch of her throat, a silent invitation to her own destruction. In this room, the world outside was a lie, and the only truth was the crushing gravity of his presence. She wasn't just his prisoner, she was a convert to the darkness, a masterpiece of broken edges and forced submission.
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