The World Is Mine For The Taking

Rose's POV

I glared down at the man whose balls I'd just crushed, his body limp and useless on the floor. His face was twisted in agony, even unconscious, but he'd survive—though probably wishing he hadn't. The sight of him, broken but alive, was almost pathetic. I crouched down, tying them up tight so they couldn't pull any bullshit when they came to.

Grace stood off to the side, her voice shaky as she protested.

"You don't need to tie them up like that…"

I shot her a sharp look, cutting her off. "You want them loose? It's dangerous to leave them like this."

She went quiet after that.

Once they were bound, I splashed some cold water over them, and Philip was the first to stir. His body twitched, a painful gasp leaving his mouth. Even with his dick practically obliterated, he was still alive, barely clinging on. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused, his mind still scrambling to understand the pain ripping through his body.

"Geh… hehe…" He let out this sick, delirious laugh. His eyes were glazed at first, but then something dark snapped inside him. They locked onto me, wild and full of madness. The look of a man completely broken, mind shattered beyond repair. Then again, getting your balls crushed could do that to anyone.

My eyes trailed down to his wrist, where the tattoo of the Eclipse stood out, dark and clear. He was one of them.

I turned to Grace, explaining that he was part of the Eclipse, a twisted cult that kidnaps and rapes women. When I told her that, she was in shock. But then again, Grace had been through hell herself, raped while her husband watched and approved of it, so it didn't take long for her to accept the truth.

"Still… I can't believe the man I married turned out to be this kind of monster," she said, her voice filled with disbelief. "I loved him, you know? Truly. I wouldn't have married him otherwise. I told you that, didn't I?"

She told me she loved her husband, that she wouldn't have had his child if she didn't. The way she said it, like she was still trying to hold on to a shred of that love, made me wonder. Maybe, once, Philip really was a good guy, and the only reason he turned into this monster was because of that cult.

The last guy I caught told me something similar—he said the cult felt like it was hypnotizing him, breaking down his will until he couldn't resist. Maybe that's why Philip became what he is now.

"His mind's probably been rotted by the cult," I said, my voice steady but dark. "He's not the man you loved anymore, but he was, once. Now all that's left is his face and body. The rest—every memory of you, everything good—it's been twisted into something sick. That's what made him do what he did to you. And even if he's not fully in control, it doesn't change anything.

He's still unforgivable."

Even if he didn't want it, even if he was brainwashed, the blood on his hands was still real. He was guilty.

"Kekeke..." Philip's laugh was a rasping, twisted sound that echoed through the room. "Unforgivable? There's nothing unforgivable about what I've done. Every single thing I did was by the command of our Lord, the Great Darkness. His will is absolute! As a faithful servant, I was honored to fulfill his desires.

I'm not guilty. I will never be guilty."

My hand shot forward, grabbing his chin and squeezing until I could feel his teeth grinding together under the pressure.

"You think you're getting away with that? Talking like you're innocent when you're soaked in sin? You think I'm fucking stupid?"

Philip sneered through the pain, his eyes wild but filled with a twisted certainty. "Stupid? That's putting it lightly for someone like you. You blindly oppose what you can't understand. If you just put your faith in our Lord, you'd be promised wisdom beyond your comprehension. But you're too much of a fool to see it.

You're nothing but a puppet that defies Him."

"Tell me, then, what's so special about this Lord of yours? What's so great about him that you'd throw your wife's body to the wolves, letting other men use her? Huh?" My voice dripped with disgust, every word like venom.

"You wanna know what's so great about Him?" Philip's lips curled into a twisted grin, his eyes gleaming with unhinged zeal. "Fine. I could talk about the Lord forever and not even feel tired. Our Lord, the Great Darkness, is beyond anything you could ever understand. Not even the Great Red could touch Him.

He's the one who stands above it all, the one who will take this broken world and reshape it into what it was always meant to be. You think you're stopping something? You're just a fucking idiot playing in the dark. The prophecy will happen—nothing can stop it. This world is supposed to be swallowed by the darkness He created. And it will come back.

We've sworn it—it will come back!"

His words were filled with deranged conviction, spilling out like a flood of insanity. This "Great Darkness" he was raving about meant nothing to me. It was all gibberish. I'd heard of the Great Dragons, like the Great Red, but this so-called darkness was just the ramblings of a lunatic.

"You mean to tell me you did all that things to Grace—let her get used by other men—just for some nonexistent god?" I growled, my hand gripping his chin so hard I could feel the bones shifting under my palm, my nails digging into his skin.

The second I said that, Philip's whole demeanor snapped. His eyes narrowed, filled with a blazing, animalistic fury. It was unreal—how he could still glare like that after I'd crushed his dick and balls. The pain alone should've shattered his spirit, but no, he clung to this madness like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

"Nonexistent?" He practically spat the word, his voice seething with hate. "You don't have a fucking clue! Our Lord exists! He's here, in this very realm, watching and waiting. And when He returns, you'll regret every word you just said, every time you opposed Him, you fucking moron!"