The cold stone walls bled shadows. The air in the dungeon was thick with damp rot, the stench of mold, sweat, and something coppery that coated the back of my throat. I was standing barefoot on the freezing floor, my toes numb, my heartbeat loud enough to echo off the walls. Chains rattled somewhere in the darkness.
The girl was there again. The same one from before thin, broken, her eyes wide and empty as if she had already accepted her fate. Her wrists were bound in iron, her lips cracked and bloodied. She whimpered my name no, not my name, but it felt like she was speaking to me. Pleading with me.
"Help me," she croaked, but her voice wasn’t her own. It carried the weight of something unholy, echoing and splitting in two, one voice layered on top of the other.
I tried to move forward, to reach her, but my legs were heavy as if shackled to the ground. My lungs tightened. The dungeon felt alive, the stones pulsing like veins, and from the darkness came footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Mocking. He appeared. The psycho Alpha. His tall frame seemed even larger in the gloom, his shoulders broad, his presence filling the air like poison. His eyes gleamed, twin shards of cruelty, and in his hand he carried a knife that glinted wetly under the torchlight.
"Please, no..." the girl whispered.
But he smiled. That smile the kind that stripped the skin from your bones before the blade even touched you.
I screamed at him to stop. My voice tore from my throat, but he didn’t hear me. Or worse, he ignored me.
The knife sank into her chest with a sickening crunch. Her body convulsed against the chains, her eyes rolling back as blood bubbled from her lips. He twisted the blade slowly, savoring her agony, his expression calm, almost serene. Then he withdrew it with a wet sound, crimson dripping from the blade onto the floor in thick drops. The metallic scent filled the dungeon until I thought I’d drown in it. He turned his head. And his gaze locked on me. I froze. The knife slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the ground, but his hands those terrible hands were still red. He lifted them, studying the blood, then looked at me with that same smile.
"You," he said, his voice low, deep, almost tender. "You’re not like her."
I shook my head violently, but my body refused to move.
"You’re mine," he continued, stepping closer, leaving bloody footprints on the stones. "My personal omega."
He reached for me with those stained hands, and when his fingers brushed my cheek, the warmth of blood smeared across my skin I screamed. And I bolted upright, my lungs heaving, sweat dripping down my temples. My heart hammered so fast I thought it would tear out of my chest. The darkness of the Alpha quarters surrounded me, thick and suffocating, and for a split second I couldn’t tell if I was still in the dungeon or not. The sheets tangled around my legs, sticky with cold sweat. My throat was raw, my voice hoarse from screaming. But worse than the nightmare was the silence. A silence so heavy it pressed down on me, as if the walls were waiting. Watching.
I stumbled out of bed. My feet hit the cold floor, and I ran. I didn’t think, didn’t breathe. I just ran.
The corridors stretched out endlessly, twisting and doubling back, each turn leading deeper into the Alpha’s quarters. The torches burned low, their flames guttering, shadows reaching out with claw-like fingers. My bare feet slapped against stone, my breath ragged.
The girl’s face still haunted me. Her lifeless eyes. The blood. His smile. His words.
My personal omega. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novelꜰire.net
No, no, no...
I turned corner after corner, trying to find the way out, but the halls all looked the same. Heavy doors lined the passageways, all closed, all looming. Every door I passed felt like it hid another secret, another nightmare waiting to spill out. Behind me, I swore I heard footsteps. I stopped. My chest heaved, my ears straining and there was silence.
Then I heard his inner voice.
"Running won’t save you, little omega.
My stomach dropped. My skin crawled.
I spun around, but the hallway was empty. I backed away slowly, my legs trembling. My hands scraped against the rough stone wall for balance. The silence stretched, but then
"Inner voice: I can hear your heartbeat. So fast. So deliciously afraid.
I clapped my hands over my ears, but it didn’t matter. The voice was inside me, slithering under my skin. I ran again, faster this time, my breath tearing from my lungs. My vision blurred with panic, but no matter how far I went, I couldn’t find the exit. The quarters twisted into a maze designed to trap me.
The doors slammed in the distance. Or maybe it was only in my head. Shadows shifted at the edges of the torchlight, stretching into shapes that looked like claws reaching for me. I stumbled, fell to my knees, and my palms scraped raw against the stone. Pain jolted through me, but I forced myself up, choking on sobs, and kept running. My nightmare hadn’t ended. I was still trapped. Still hunted.
"Please..." I whispered to no one, to the walls, to the darkness.
Begging already? His voice purred. How sweet.
I turned another corner and stopped dead but he was there. The psycho Alpha stood at the far end of the corridor, tall and terrible, the torchlight flickering over his face. His smile was the same as in my dream, slow and wicked, as if he’d been waiting for me all along. My body froze, my breath caught in my throat. His shadow stretched across the floor, reaching for me.
Finally, his inner voice whispered. Caught you.
His shadow swallowed mine.I froze against the cold wall, my breath ragged, my palms pressed flat against the stone as if I could disappear into it. But the darkness didn’t let me hide. It stretched long and sharp, his frame blotting out the flickering torchlight. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to break free and run, even if I couldn’t.
He moved closer, slow, deliberate, the way a predator does when it knows the prey is already trapped.
The psycho Alpha bent down, so close I felt the heat of his breath against the shell of my ear. My body went rigid.
"Having nightmares again, my little omega?" he whispered, his voice low, silk over steel.
My lips trembled. A whimper tore from me before I could stop it. "P-please..." I stuttered, my throat tight. "Please don’t kill me."
His breath hitched in what sounded like amusement. Then he laughed. Not a normal laugh, but that broken, jagged sound that didn’t belong in the throat of a man it belonged in nightmares. It rolled through me, made my knees buckle. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing myself harder against the wall. But he didn’t back away. Instead, he placed one hand on the wall right beside my head, the other slowly trailing down the side of my face with a touch that made bile rise in my throat. His fingers lingered at my jaw, his thumb brushing the edge of my lips as if testing how easily he could tear me apart. So fragile, his inner voice purred inside my head. So soft. I could snap you in half with one hand
I gasped and shook my head, trying to push his hand away, but he caught my wrists in an instant and pinned them above me against the wall. His grip was iron. My struggles were nothing against his strength.
"Don’t..." I begged, tears burning my eyes. "I’ll do anything, just don’t kill me.
His smile widened, and his laughter spilled out again, echoing off the stone corridor. But beneath that laughter, his inner voice slithered through me:
Why would I kill my little omega when I can keep you alive... trembling like this?
My chest constricted. Panic clawed at me, my lungs screaming for air, but his shadow loomed closer, his body caging me in.
"Look at you," he murmured aloud, tilting my chin up with a blood-stained finger as if forcing me to meet his gaze. "Begging... shaking... you’re perfect like this."
I sobbed, twisting against him, but he only pressed closer, his presence suffocating, his laughter spilling into the silence like a blade dragging across stone. His laughter cut through me again, this time softer, darker, almost intimate. He leaned closer, until his nose brushed against the side of my throat. My pulse jumped wildly under his touch.
"Kill you?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over my skin. "Why would I waste something so... fragile? So perfect?"
You’re mine, his inner voice whispered. Mine to keep. Mine to break. Mine to play with whenever I want.
I choked on a sob. His grip tightened around my wrists, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise. His other hand trailed down my cheek, along my jaw, stopping at my throat. He pressed lightly, just enough to remind me how easy it would be to crush the air from my lungs.
My body trembled uncontrollably. Every instinct screamed danger, screamed death, screamed run but I couldn’t move. His touch paralyzed me more effectively than chains ever could.
"Please," I begged again, my voice a broken whisper. "Don’t..."
He chuckled, low and sinister, the sound vibrating through his chest and into me.
Beg louder, his inner voice taunted. I want to hear it. I want to hear how far you’ll crawl to survive.
I shook my head desperately, but my throat betrayed me. "Please... please don’t hurt me!"
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with amusement. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear once more.
"You beg so beautifully."
The corridor spun. My vision darkened at the edges. My chest heaved, my breath ragged, every inhale harder than the last. The pounding of my heart roared in my ears until it was the only sound I could hear. My body couldn’t take it the fear, the suffocating weight of him, the venom of his voice inside my head. Everything blurred. My legs gave out. And then nothing. Everywhere became black again