Their Possession

She breathes like she still remembers the leash.

Moves like she knows I'm already watching.

But she doesn't run.

Not anymore.

She kneels-bare feet, bloodied floor, collar tight-and hums like that sound belongs to her.

It doesn't.

It belongs to me.

Always did.

They starved her.

Staged her.

Tried to turn her breath into a weapon.

But what they didn't understand?

That sound she made in the dark wasn't surrender.

It was a summons.

And I'm the one who answers.

Now I'm coming for every man who made her hum with...