Wicked reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He flashes the bright screen on Skully’s face and I squint my eyes to see better. Victor’s headless corpse lying in a puddle of blood.

Wicked raises his brows. “Let her fucking go.”

Skully clicks his fingers and a couple of the people wearing robes move forward, taking the young girl off Royce and dragging her back against the forest clearance. The more I sit up here, the more I recognize things. The forest where we saw someone burning on a cross, the cabin houses. No doubt the asylum is not far from here. They must have all moved back.

“I have to admit.” Skully lowers himself onto the chair in front of me. “I’m sure going to enjoy this part while we wait for my proof.”

“What part?” Wicked asks, his lip curled. Royce steps forward, his arm on Wicked’s as I feel someone brush against my side.

I flinch, instantly repulsing away from whomever it was but I collide with another. Shaking my head, I whisper, “You fucking touch me and I’ll kill you.”

Someone brings a blade to my clothes and tears off my yoga pants and shirt, until the cold night air wraps around my exposed skin.

Wicked roars forward, but baby-face steps between him and Skully, who is seated in front of me.

“Nope.” Skully shakes his fingers. “If you do that again—” Skully stands, turning toward me and I try to pacify my breathing. My chest rises and falls as I choke on the oxygen that refuses to let up inside of me.

He swings his hand back before it collides with my cheek and a loud crack.

Wicked launches forward again as someone to my left cuts my panties off, and another hit flies across my face. “Keep going, Wicked, and I’ll be releasing a corpse to you.”

My eyes find his and everyone else dissolves around me. All that exists is him and I and the monsters that live inside of both of us. I take in deep breaths, holding back the tears that threaten to roll down my cheeks. White noise pierces my ears as I feel hands run up my inner thigh while another grabs at my breast. I hold his stare. He tugs at his hair, the veins in his neck popping as he screams so loudly I don’t hear him.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, knowing he can read my lips. “It’s okay.” I nod. “I love you.” Then I squeeze my eyes closed. Someone steps up from behind me, forcing my legs wide open as another pair of hands finds my pussy. Evil penetrates every exposed area of my skin, and no matter how much I fight against it, I submit. Submit to the shame, the agony, and the heartbreak.