#tw!!!!

Adrian obviously doesn’t share the sentiment, only glaring at you whenever you have your little tantrums. Screaming matches, breaking valuable expensive decor, hands sabotaging the scripts he’d get in the mail. He stood tall through it all, trying to do anything except that. A suggestion given to him by a friend who went through something similar.

“Just isolate them, Adrian. Barely talk to them and barely feed them for a week, watch how fast they come back running. You, Adrian, are the master. Act like it.”

And as much as he hates to say it; you were his perfect pet after isolation. After days and nights locked in the bleak basement of his mansion, you’d come begging and licking at his feet, words of praise, pleas filled with torment. You hands flitting around his frame, desperate for any human interaction, you had been pushed to the point of hallucination after all. 

His punishments and torture carved itself into you like a sculptor to their clay. Stripping down any barrier of yours, molding you to be the perfect reusable pet. The thing Adrian comes back to when he gets bored, when he’s dated so many people and wants to come back to the only constant in his life. You. 

He was addicted to you, quitting you for a bit, but keeping you near. Because he knew that at the smallest convenience; you’d be there for him to take his anger out on, to show off that HE is the one in control. The only way your abuser can ever feel in control is when he takes away all your rights, bodily autonomy, just so he can taste a sense of power, of hierarchy. He’s always been used and tossed, so he has every right to do it to the one he… cherishes. The most.

And the irony of it all was funniest. He had the gall, the audacity, to kidnap you, make you his, force you into being in “love” with him and his disgusting personality. But in front of the public eye? You were nothing. No one noticed you, no one ever would notice the heavily covered figure in the sea of reports and security guards. Your figure trailing after Adrian like a love-sick creep.

Always standing there, hearing everyone whisper about yet another steamy public relationship of his, how sensual he is, how pretty, how Adrian and some other celeb would just look oh so good!!! No one knew the shit he put you through, the shit he puts you through. And—how much you love him. 

It wasn’t hard for him to make you actually fall in love, to forget the word “healthy”. It was over for you the moment Adrian learnt what stockholm syndrome was, how easy it is for someone to fall in love when they’re fed with enough lies to question reality itself. His hot and cold attitude didn’t help either, the affections, the love, the touching— the pushing away, the ignoring, the mean comments.

Adrian is a freak, a criminal, a psychopath. But who else would love you? Who else would wipe away your tears the way he does? You’ve been “missing” for 3 years now, and no one came to save you, no one tried to get you. And when Adrian informed you that the loved ones in your life never even cared about you, how much they hated you, how much everyone was talking horribly about you behind your back.

His soft and delicate hands rubbing circles on your back in comfort, arms around you as you sit on his lap, weeping like a lost child into his shoulder. Adrian’s words of comfort would’ve meant nothing if you had seen how hard he was smiling, almost giggling at the prospect of you thinking you only had him left in your life. That was nothing but a lie.

With his connections and corrupt cops, he managed to get your missing persons file dismissed, letting the police inform your family that you just ran away. You’re a grown adult who can make the conscious decision to start a new life somewhere far away and possibly tropical! The police fed your family even more lies about you, essentially the same treatment he gave to you, he gave to your friends and family as well.

There of course were some persistent pests, who “knew” you enough to know that you would never do something like this without at least informing someone. These pests were of course dealt with swiftly, not like you’d miss them anyway.

Back to the present, you were smiling at him. Eyes soft and filled with love for him, only Adrian. Your forever love, maybe… Maybe when he gets the courage to, he can confess, finally live a normal life, treat you how you should be treated.

Adrian turns to you, demeanor calm and collected, walking towards you, he cupped your face. Warm and cute under his hands, you speak.

“You are disgusting. Despicable. You don’t deserve love, Adrian, you don’t deserve control either. At the first sight of love, you went and fucked it up, didn’t you, Adrian?” With the question, your head tilts, neck cracking harshly, your head hanging off your neck at this point, yet you continue. “You. Murderer. You. Are. PATHETIC.”

With that, his hallucination gives way, dissolving into millions of maggots that burrow back into the ground. The weight of his actions press heavily against his mind and soul, his entire body losing all of it’s control, sagging onto the floor, knees slamming onto the harsh concrete of his cell. Adrian looks around, knocked out of the psychosis he put himself in just to live past the regret, and guilt of his murder.

You’re dead. His precious jewel, the only thing Adrian thought of day in and day out. He killed you himself in an episode after finding out he’s been cast as a side character of all things. Furniture being hurled across the room, evidence of his rampage all over the living room, TV shattered, bloody kitchen knife in hand, windows—wait what?

Adrian looks down at his hands, clean now, but not back then. He was drenched in blood, sighing he thought it was someone disposable. A maid, a guard, some idiot for god’s sake anyone but you. Yet his assumptions were proven incorrect.

The trail of blood behind him showed him the way to the body, I have to lock the doors here, can’t let my darling see any of this…. He thought as he made his way to another room, the trail getting thicker and wetter, the mess he made throwing shit around even worse. Yet, nothing will ever horrify him as much as your mangled body. Laying there, expression empty, a gorey sight he wouldn’t even wish on his greatest enemy.