Chapter 3

I woke to a consciousness that felt like a delicate wisp of smoke, curling and stretching in the dim light of an unfamiliar room. My mind was a fog, thick and suffocating, as I tried to stitch together the threads of memory that would explain my surroundings. The walls around me were an oppressive shade of grey, the kind that seemed to drink in the light, leaving the air heavy with shadows.

A chill ran down my spine, not just from the cold that seeped from the concrete floor, but from the creeping realization that I was no longer in control of my own life. My heart thrummed in my chest, as I struggled to sit up, the room spinning around me like a carousel from which I couldn’t disembark.

The door creaked open, a sound so innocuous yet it sent shivers down my spine. Owen stepped inside, his silhouette a dark blot against the slightly less dark room. The door closed behind him with a soft click that echoed like a gunshot in the silence. His presence filled the space, a tangible reminder of the power he held over me.

“You’re finally awake,” he said, his voice a low purr that seemed to resonate in the marrow of my bones. “I was beginning to worry I’d been too…enthusiastic.”

I tried to speak, but my throat was a desert, my words little more than a hoarse whisper. “Where am I?”

He took a step closer, his eyes pinning me in place like a moth under a collector’s glass. “You’re home, Kira. Or at least, you will be. You belong to me now.”

My mind rebelled against his words, even as my treacherous heart fluttered at the dark promise in his voice. I was caught in a tempest of emotions, the fear and longing intertwined like a stormy whirlpool, ready to engulf me.

“You can’t keep me here,” I managed to whisper, my voice trembling with a mix of terror and desperation, as if each word were a fragile thread holding onto my fading hope.

Owen’s smile was a slash of white in the gloom. “Can’t I? I think you’ll find that I can.”

He moved closer, his hand reaching out to trace the line of my jaw. His touch was a brand, searing into my skin, leaving a trail of fire and ice in its wake. I should have recoiled, should have slapped his hand away, but I was paralyzed, caught in the web of my own conflicting emotions.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His fingers stilled, his gaze piercing into mine. “Because you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And I won’t let you throw your life away, not when it’s just beginning to get interesting.”

I felt the sting of tears, hot and unwanted, as they tracked down my cheeks. I was broken, a porcelain doll shattered into a thousand pieces, each one reflecting the fractured remains of my soul. Owen’s obsession with me was a poison, seeping into my veins, corrupting the very essence of who I was.

And yet, despite the fear, despite the pain, there was a part of me that still yearned for his approval, his affection. It was a twisted, perverse longing, a desire that clawed at my insides, demanding to be acknowledged.

“I hate you,” I whispered, the words laced with the venom of my torn heart.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft, almost tender. “But hate is just the other side of love, Kira. And I plan to explore every inch of that spectrum with you.”

He stood then, his shadow looming over me, a physical weight that pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. “You’re going to learn, Kira. You’re going to learn what it means to be truly owned. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll start to appreciate the gift I’ve given you.

You must understand, I’m the only one who truly sees you. Everyone else? They’re blind to the depths of your soul, to the shadows that dance just beneath the surface. But I see them. I see you.”

I shook my head, trying to deny the truth in his words.

“What about my family? My friends?” I asked, my voice a tremulous thread that barely held together.

Owen’s smile was a cruel twist of lips, a grotesque parody of affection. “Your parents, Kira? They’re so caught up in their own little bubble that they have no clue what’s going on in your life. And your friends? You mean that one girl who couldn’t even stand up for you?”

He was right, of course. My parents had always been distant, their love smothering in its overprotectiveness yet absent when it came to the things that truly mattered. And my friends…well, I had watched the last of them fade into the background as Owen’s cruel games had unfolded.

“But they’ll notice I’m gone,” I insisted, my voice growing stronger, fueled by desperate hope. “They’ll come looking for me.”

Owen leaned in, his eyes capturing mine in a relentless grip. “No, Kira. They won’t. You’ve been slipping through the cracks for years. And now? Now you’re mine.”

“Why?” I whispered, the fight draining out of me, leaving me hollow and aching. “Why go through all this trouble for me?”

Owen’s gaze softened. “Because, Kira, you’re not like the others. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you by my side, to mold you into the masterpiece you were always meant to be.”

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against my cheek in a gesture that was almost tender. I flinched away, but there was no escaping his grasp, no hope of turning back the hands of time to a life that was no longer mine.

“Remember, Kira,” he said, his voice a low thrum that vibrated through me. “There’s no escape from me. And as long as I’m alive, you’ll never have to face the darkness alone again.”

The room seemed to shrink around us, the walls closing in as Owen’s presence filled every inch of space. I was trapped, truly and utterly trapped.

As the realization of my new reality sank in, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to his words. Was I really as invisible as he claimed, or was there still a chance that someone, somewhere, would notice my absence and come searching for the girl who had all but disappeared into the background?

With that, he turned and walked toward the door, each step echoing in the silence like the tolling of a bell. As he reached for the handle, I found my voice, the words spilling from my lips in a desperate plea.

“Owen, please…”

He paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob, his back still to me. “Please, what, Kira?”

But I had no answer, no coherent thought beyond the chaos that raged within me. I was drowning in an ocean of my own making, and Owen was the siren that threatened to drag me into its darkest depths.

The door closed behind him, leaving me alone in the half-light, the sound of my own heartbeat a relentless reminder of the life that pulsed within me—a life that Owen now claimed as his own.