Chapter 4: Motherly Love

He couldn't see. A bandana was tied around where his eyes were. He feels like something was inside his ears– earbuds, maybe? He was strapped to a chair, his arms and legs tied up.

His nervousness must have gotten to him, he starts breathing through his mouth desperately. As if the air couldn't enter.

Nikolai has never been fond of darkness. He's sure no one is. It's terrifying knowing that someone could be behind you and you wouldn't see because of the dark. He feels a blow of cold air to his neck and he shudders.

He doesn't call for help. He doesn't want to see who's behind him. Whoever was behind him was blowing harder in his ear.

As he tries to ignore it, he thinks of what happened. He and the chairman were shot with arrows. (Arrows, really? It's the twenty-fifth century; nobody uses that anymore.) Then the chairman lost consciousness. And then… he was shot by an arrow too.

The person's fingers creep up from the nape to the bottom of his chin, tracing the shape of his throat with its long nail.

How was he still alive? He got shot in the head deeply. Hell, didn't the arrow go through his skull?

Apparently, he was thinking so hard that he didn't notice the person– was it even a person?– gnawing at his neck. Plump, red lips kisses and licks the soft skin, and sucking on it as its bare teeth insert inside, and blood leaked. When it lets go, a string of saliva stretches. Nikolai freezes.

A feeling of dread comes over him. He was white in fear and he couldn't bear to move an inch. The person continues to bite him. He tries to move his shoulders but the person's grip keeps him in place as it peels his skin with its teeth and Nikolai feels horrifyingly hot on that spot. He bites his lip as he tries not to shriek.

The person behind him chuckles in amusement. Its voice scraped like sandpaper against his ear.

"Don't be like that," says the person. It had a feminine voice and Nikolai could've sworn he's heard it before.

Nikolai's voice was small and pathetic, "Please… s…top…"

The voice seems to be even more amused as it nibbles on Nikolai's ear, removing the earbuds, and then kisses him on the cheek.

"I missed you so much, Niko," she kisses him again. "You missed me too, didn't you?" Her fingers made their way to his slacks. She scratches the fabric whimsically. Nikolai feels tears running down his face and when she notices, she gives a sour expression. "Hey, now. Why are you crying? Do you not like it when I do"– she scratches on his jeans again but this time near his crotch– "this?" Her voice was as innocent as it can be.

Nikolai was sobbing quietly now. He tries to choke down his tears as he tries to resist, racking the chair back and forth.

"S…top! Stop it, please!" He begs.

Her face scrunches. "I don't want to. Be a man and take responsibility when a woman desires you. It's your fault for dressing up like that– for acting like that– for being like that!" She kicks his crotch.

Nikolai shrieks in pain and horror. It was like his own sense of identity shattered. It wasn't his fault for having a sense of fashion; nor was it his fault for being bubbly. He knew he wasn't at fault. He was just being himself but it still hurt to know that people only him found him as an object for their own desires. But people have always been like this. The priest, his former best friend, and maybe the chairman was like that too. But the one who first hurt him was this woman in front of him. He remembers it like daylight when she had first tainted him. He shudders. She must be forty-six now.

The woman pushes him and pins him down with her body. She tears Nikolai's shirt with her fingernail as she watches his body in awe.

"Oh my!" She says in amazement, massaging his arm's muscles."You've gotten so much leaner than when you were little! Though, there's still a little fat here and there."

Nikolai's hands were getting smashed by their two bodies and he tries to turn and free them. The woman looks at him, irritated.

"Niko, my dear." She bounces on his crotch and he yelps. "Just what are you doing?"

He doesn't answer.

"Oh!" She comes to a realization. "You're afraid that I'll do 'that' to you?" She giggles in a sinister way. "Oh, but I've long abandoned those ways. See, I found another way of pleasure. Can you guess it?" She looks at him expectantly. No answer. "Aw, but it's so obvious, Niko. Blood! Flesh! They're much more better than any animal meat, especially when fresh! And definitely better than any man!"

Nikolai shakes his head vigorously until the blindfold unties. He tries to get up but was held down by the tied up hand on his back.

He looks to his left. They were at a baby-blue-colored kitchen. The color was bright but the kitchen itself was messy; dirty pots and pans scattered everywhere and broken shards of plates and glasses. The windows were covered permanently in cement.

"Don't look away, Niko." She grips a handful of his blond curls, forcing him to look at her. "Why won't you ever look at me? Do you find a dirty kitchen more pleasing than me?" Her voice got louder with each word.

Nikolai tries to look for an exit. His hair's roots hurt as he moved but that doesn't matter now. Seconds later, he realizes he couldn't see on his right.

She looks at him curiously then realizing what he has discovered. She lies, "It was a juicy treat."

Nikolai's eye looked bloodshot then. His eye were basically popping out as you could slightly see the nerves.

He grimaces his teeth, "I *hate* you."

She slaps him, the sound echoes loudly. "Watch your mouth."

She forms a peace sign with her fingers and let it walk across his body like legs. It stops at his shoulder. It was bleeding and you see a small part of the bone. It was partly skinless as well.

The fingers walk further and stops at the skinless part. Nikolai screams. It was like a searing hot pan touched his shoulder. He screams some more until she hits him again.

Only then he realizes that the tear that's been flowing out of his right eye was blood.

"Don't fight against your mother, Niko," she says softly. Her eyes were kind as if she pities him. But her existence meant his doom.