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LORI POV
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Knight’s eyes narrowed at my question, and before I could utter another word, he advanced with predatory speed.
In an instant, his strong hand clamped around my neck, and I felt the crushing force pin me against the cold stone wall. His presence was overwhelming.
“You belong to me, Lori,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
I struggled to form words, the air in my lungs suddenly scarce. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as his grip tightened, and I felt my will beginning to dissolve under the weight of his command.
“Let… let go…” I managed my voice barely a whisper, my eyes wide with a mix of defiance and terror.
He laughed, a sound that was both mocking and cruel. “No, Lori. You will learn,” he said. “I gave you life. I crafted you to be exactly as I want. And now you will obey me.”
His hand slowly loosened its grip, and I staggered back, gasping for the precious air that I had been denied. Every nerve in my body screamed in protest as I tried to recover, my thoughts swirling in chaos. The words he had just spoken rang in my ears.”
“Knight, please…” I pleaded, my voice shaking as I clutched at my throat, trying to soothe the lingering pain of his grip.
He stepped closer again, his eyes dark with a possessive intensity. “Listen carefully,” he hissed, lowering his voice as if sharing a terrible secret. “I am the only one who can give you purpose. Do you think Santorini cares? Do you think freedom is found in his empty promises? You are mine, and mine alone. Every part of you was meant to serve me.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine as I stared into those relentless eyes. “But I have the right to choose who I become,” I whispered, my voice trembling yet defiant. “I want no, I deserve to decide for myself.”
His laugh was bitter, echoing off the stone as if to remind me that my rebellion was futile. “Right? Choice? Freedom?” he spat, circling me like a predator circling its prey. “Those are luxuries for those too weak to accept their destiny. I crafted you, moulded you with my own hands, and you will live as I decree.”
I took an involuntary step back, my mind reeling between the terror of his touch and the faint spark of rebellion ignited by distant memories of kindness and promises of another life.
“You may have shaped me, Knight,” I said, voice growing steadier despite the fear, “but you cannot shackle my soul. I can still choose.”
He sneered, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Choice?” he repeated slowly, almost savouring the word as if it were a foreign concept I had been foolish enough to embrace. “You will learn that choice is an illusion. I hold your destiny in my grasp, and every breath you take is a reminder of your indebtedness to me.”
For a long, suffocating moment, silence fell between us-a silence punctuated only by the ragged sound of my breathing and the soft echo of his condescending words. The cold stone beneath me became a mirror for my internal battle, each heartbeat pounding a rhythm of fear and the desperate need for freedom.
“You always speak in riddles, Knight,” I managed, summoning every shred of defiance within me. “You may believe you have moulded me, but I can still resist, can’t I?”
His gaze hardened, and his expression shifted imperceptibly from amusement to calculated menace. “Resistance is for those who have not yet learned their place,” he declared his voice a low growl that vibrated with authority. “You will learn, Lori, that I am the arbiter of your existence. Every thought, every desire, is mine to command.”
I felt the weight of his words like chains, heavy and unyielding. Yet beneath that oppressive force, a small ember of hope began to glow; a hope that someday, somewhere, I might reclaim the part of me that he had so ruthlessly tried to extinguish. “I want to believe there’s more to me than your control,” I said softly, my voice barely audible but filled with a desperate yearning. “I want to be free.”
Knight’s eyes flickered for a moment-an almost imperceptible sign of internal conflict-before his mask of cruelty reasserted itself. “Freedom is a myth, Lori,” he intoned, each word deliberate and steeped in dark finality. “It is a comforting lie for the weak. You will soon see that your strength comes from accepting what I have bestowed upon you.”
He paused, allowing his words to hang in the charged air. “Listen to me well,” he continued, drawing closer, his presence suffocating. “Every time you try to rebel, every time you dare to assert your will, I will remind you of your place. I am not merely your master. I am your creator. I have fashioned you with precision, and any deviation from my design will be met with consequences.”
Tears of both defiance and pain welled in my eyes as I attempted to steady my racing heart. “I… I may be shaped by you, but I am not a sculpture meant only to be admired from afar,” I whispered. “I have my own heart, my own dreams even if they are small sparks against your overwhelming flame.”
He scoffed, stepping back to survey me with a predatory satisfaction. “Dreams are the refuge of the foolish,” he murmured. “I gave you life not to see you squander it on these trivial fantasies. Your only purpose is to serve me, to do exactly as I command.”
A silence, heavy and oppressive, followed his declaration. I could feel my pulse in the silence. “And what if I refuse to serve you as you wish?” I challenged, voice trembling but edged with resolve. “What then, Knight? Will you break me completely?”
His smile was cold, devoid of any warmth or remorse. “I will not break you, Lori,” he said, his tone measured yet menacing. “I will reshape you, remould every inches of your being until you have no memory of rebellion left.”
I closed my eyes for a brief second. “You claim to shape me, but in every moment, I feel the flicker of my own spirit,” I replied quietly. “No matter how many times you try to extinguish it, that spark remains.”
He frowned, a flash of irritation crossing his face before his mask of control returned. “Spare me your poetic nonsense,” he snapped. “The only spark that matters is the one I ignite. I am the flame, and you are the fuel. Without me, you are nothing.”