His

My breath is hitched and labored, and every essence of my body screams for freedom from... this. I can't know what it is, oh no, if I did that would just ruin the game, now wouldn't it? My blood is staining everything; the ground, my skin... the thing which I will not speak of. Weight keeps my body down, prevents me from standing or even moving too far from the designated spot of this torture. His torture.

I have yet to unfold the secrets of exactly why, why he wants to hurt me, why I have to die again each night in order for his twisted existence to continue. It's funny when a person's heart has been broken so many times over, and yet they're still willing to give it up to someone else. Which is what I did. And what I'm still doing.

He came to me while I slept one night, entering my mind and invading my dreams. I'd been hurt so badly so many times before, but he offered me everything I'd ever wanted. A life. A love. A friend. I accepted with no thoughts to what it entailed. Which is how I came to be in this situation.

I gasp as he drives something sharp (a dagger or a claw, my mind asks wildly) deeper into my stomach. I have the sudden urge to open my eyes, to cry out in pain and beg him through tears to let me go. Foolishness, I know. But I can't open my eyes yet, oh no. Not until he's done.

Not until I'm already gone.

I hear a low, deep growl and feel him pressing his body even closer against mine, pressing his claws deeper into me. I gasp, and through all of it I manage to whisper one final word. "Nephil..." Yes, here I am dying or dead already and my last breath is wasted on his name. The name I've come to loathe and cherish, that makes me both sigh and shiver. But something's wrong. I'm still awake, still aware of what's happening.

I’m not dead.

My eyelids flutter open in surprise and I scream, horrified at what faces me now. I feel a rushing sensation, as if I'm being pulled down to the underworld itself, and I have time for one last thought before it ends.

Monstrosity…
I wake up in my room, gasping for breath, prodding my stomach in search of wounds that were never there. Something went on, and I don't think I'm quite safe yet. No. Oh please god, no. I whimper and my breath becomes hitched in fear again as I realize just where I am. I'm back to earth, all right, and I'm in my room... but I'm lying against someone, wrapped in their arms. His arms. I whimper one last time, and settle resignedly against his chest as he whispers to me.

"I was only a dream, love, only a dream..."