3. Chapter 3
I called for help up to the skies for years with no answer until God finally delivered my dark angel.
He was my Michael, sent from the heavens to slay my enemies.
I didn’t care which angel was sent, as long as I was free from my demons.
He punched through my hell with guns blazing, slaying every one of my tormentors, and I knew he was there just for me; he just didn’t know it yet.
He wanted to kill me at first. I could see my death in his eyes.
And that wasn’t so terrible either, as long as I got out of my hell.
So, when he aimed the gun at my head, I was ready to be delivered.
A calmness washed over me that my pain would soon be over.
I had already lived a life of fear. Having death take that away would have been better than continuing on my current path.
I wasn’t sure if there was really a heaven or not or if he was truly a dark angel. There were only snippets of memories of going to church as a child with a woman who looked like me and a stern man with brown hair. I think they were my parents, but it had been so long since I had seen them.
I was only eight when men took me away to live somewhere else.
A place of pain and obedience. Lots of pain.
So much pain that I always obeyed. I remembered an older man with black and silver hair telling his men to hurt me but not mark me.
My skin was too beautiful to mar, he had said. His client wouldn’t like it.
They did all sorts of horrible things to me, getting me ready for the client, or my father, as he was called.
He wasn’t my real father. I just called him that because I had to.
If I didn’t, there would be pain. I never understood all the things they did to me until later in life, realizing they were getting me ready for penetration. Or teaching me to suck a man’s penis.
After all the suffering, my old life eventually vanished into the dark corners of my mind, leaving me with only horror and fear for eleven long years.
Eventually, I forgot my own name. My only goal in my youth had been to obey.
That was all that mattered. To do everything they wanted me to do without complaint or words.
I was simply an object to them and nothing more.
After they sold me, I tried to give Father everything he wanted as best as I could.
But I had failed too many times in being silent.
That was when Father put an electric collar on me, so every time I uttered a word when I wasn’t allowed; he sent shocks through my body.
Whenever he was too busy, he had another man who would manage me to keep me obedient.
Eventually, I learned. If I was a really good boy, he’d take it off for a day.
Sometimes he removed it if he took me from behind, so he could hear my noises.
He liked that. Or when his men took me, needing to hear me cry.
I knew he loved it when I shed tears because he told me so, but only during sex. He never tolerated them outside of it.
Sometimes Father told me he loved his baby boy, but as I got older, he grew meaner. He didn’t like me getting bigger, so he made me dress up like a kid still, and my nanny had to wax and shave my body all the time.
At first, I believed he loved me, but then he changed.
I think he stopped loving me for growing up, and I hated him for it.
That was when he handed me to his men to play with.
I loved him because I had no other choice.
He was my caregiver and my master, and I was always desperate for his approval.
Yet, I hated him, too. Hated that he didn’t always want me.
Hated him for hurting me when I tried so hard to be a good boy.
But he was dead now, and I wouldn’t miss him.
When the angel killed Father, I was finally set free.
I rushed to Father’ dead body and grabbed the control that set my neck on fire and the key to unlocking it from his pocket.
But I couldn’t undo the collar myself. Everything in my body and soul screamed no at me and that I would get into trouble, despite knowing Father was dead.
It didn’t matter. I wasn’t allowed, so I had to give it to my angel, my new master.
But I wasn’t sure how, since I wasn’t allowed to talk.
Angel tried to kill me again, but he held it all back, probably because I saved his life. Or maybe he realized I was his. That he was my new master. But then he didn’t want me to follow him. How could I not? He owned me now. Someone had to own me, and Angel was delivered to me to do just that.
His house was much smaller than my old house, and it looked old.
And when we got close, a big, stocky black dog came out.
I wasn’t afraid, though. We had a lot of dogs at home that I was allowed to play with and give treats to as a reward for being good.
I hoped they were okay now that everyone was dead.
Cleo pressed her heavy body against me, and she liked to be scratched under the chin as the other dogs did.
I looked at my angel, who seemed a little confused, but I didn’t understand why.
After he unlocked the door to his house, I put my hand in his and looked up at him again.
His pale green eyes grew so wide, and he shook me off.
I tried not to be hurt and hoped he would love me soon.
He chose me for a reason. He let me live for a reason.
And he took me with him for a reason. If not for me to be his, then what other reason was there?
I couldn’t live on my own. I didn’t know how.
I had been owned for almost as long as I could remember.
He would have to kill me if he couldn’t keep me, but I hoped I could be his.
Angel led me to his kitchen and sat me down on a stool at a bar.
I petted Cleo’s big head as she sat next to me and looked around his little house.
It smelled like a fireplace, cigarettes, and old wood.
There wasn’t much inside. A couch, a television, and a table.
There were no art, sculptures, or beautiful lighting and ornate rugs.
It was dim and not very cozy, but it was Angel’s home, so now it was mine.
I would be happy anywhere as long as he was by my side.
Hopefully, he would be nicer to me than Father had been.
He stood on the other side of the counter, watching me with really pretty green eyes, but they were intense and starting to bruise from the fight in my bedroom.
And his nose was crusted with dried blood.
His black hair was straight, and his bangs kept falling in his face that held high cheekbones, despite his efforts to keep them back.
He was also taller than me, but I wasn’t sure by how much.
I had no concept of height. All that I knew about anything in the world came from the people who talked to me or the television I was sometimes allowed to watch.
If I was really lucky, I’d be allowed to read children’s books.
My education wasn’t as important as being a baby boy.
Father’s plaything. But every once in a while, Nanny would tell me useful things.
Angel was very beautiful, even with his injuries. Not like Father. Father was ugly.
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” he asked. His voice wasn’t as deep as Father’s, but it sounded really pretty, like how a dark angel would sound.
I just looked at him and blinked a couple of times, unable to answer. Instead, I reached into Rabbit’s pocket and pulled out the key, handing it to him. Hopefully, he would know what to do.
“What’s this?”
He took the key and placed it in the palm of his hand, inspecting it. When I didn’t answer, he growled and sighed. I didn’t like making him upset. I needed him to love me and not hurt me. Besides, he saved me, so I would do anything to get him to love me.
After staring at me for a while, the light in his eyes suddenly changed.
They turned brighter, and his brows didn’t sit so low as if he had just figured something out.
Then he walked over and stood behind me, touching my collar.
His finger grazing my skin sent tingles along my arms, and I broke out in goosebumps.
He tugged on the collar, and suddenly it fell from my throat.
Free at last.
I gasped as if it had choked me. While it only sat on my throat, it was like my entire body could breathe. I hated my collar more than anything. It always reminded me of the pain that was sure to come, telling me I was a bad boy.
My angel slowly spun me around on the stool to face him and placed gentle hands on my face, inspecting my last beating from Father when I didn’t cry hard enough for him when he took me from behind.
Angel lifted my chin and scowled at the burn marks left behind on my throat.
I couldn’t see them, but they were always there.
Nanny had to treat them all the time so they didn’t get infected.
“Bastard.”
I coughed and looked at him, unsure if I should talk despite the collar being gone, but I took the risk, so he would know how grateful I was to him. “Thank you.” My voice was a whisper. A feather in the wind because even when I was allowed to talk, I had to talk softly, like a good boy.
He raised a brow and folded his arms. “So, you do talk.”
“Am I… allowed now?”
“Allowed?”
When I nodded, he looked at the collar he had tossed on the counter, cursing, then I handed him the remote from Rabbit’s pocket.
“Yes, please keep talking. What’s this?”
“To control my collar. If I’m bad and talking too much, put it on and use that. The pain will make me behave. I want to be good.”
His face darkened and morphed into danger, which scared me a little, but I couldn’t cower. No cowering when I accepted my punishments. But instead of beating me, he dropped the remote on the floor and stomped on it with his boot.