Birthright

By Chloe Moore

What happens when you find out your earliest descendants, are gods?
Stories of gods and magic, of romances and villainy, have been
interwoven with the fiction created many mortal cultures, each
miscommunicating, and forgetting entirely, the history of a time
where the world was inhabited by curious creatures, legendary
beasts, magical spirits, and of course, the Gods themselves.

That is, until, the world is once more introduced to the magic and
chaos of our ancestors. When multiple Legendary Creatures escape
the Underworld - after the last remaining mortal entrance is
discovered and opened - the mortal realm is once more thrust into
an uneasy co-existence where humans are no longer at the top of
the food chain, and as magic spreads out further and further into
the world, the people of the world find themselves looking for
someone to help, for a Champion of the modern age.

A Hero.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookRix
• Release date: Apr 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9783748738084

Book preview

PRELUDE

The history of our ancestors is mostly a mystery to us in the modern world. Before the written word, came an oral history that was passed down from one generation to another, keeping alive the memories, beliefs, and traditions of our forefathers.

Stories of gods and magic, of romances and villainy. Over time these stories were interwoven, miscommunicated, or forgotten entirely. Not through any fault of our own, but through the subtle tricks and slips orchestrated by the Divine Trickster himself, Hermes. The magic of our world was slowly lost to both time and science - which sought to give explanation to the extraordinary - where such miracles would previously be attributed to the gods and heroes of old.

It was heroes such as Theseus, Heracles, Jason, Atalanta, Perseus, and more, who all played their part in cleansing the world of its Legendary Beasts, while also unwittingly causing the nymphs, the Seers, and the rest of the lesser magical mythical creatures to go with them. Now all are relegated to the visions and hallucinations of weary, delirious travellers, or forced to live in their rigid forms: trees, lakes, mountains, winds, and seas.

As our society progressed and evolved through time, our reliance on such entities dwindled. And so, with the defeat of the last great beast, humanity earned its independence from the whims of the Gods.

That is, we had done – until five years ago.

During an archaeological dig on an ancient silt lagoon near the village of Myloi, on the Argolic Gulf of Greece, a discovery was made that would change not only the landscape of the world as we know it, but also our beliefs. A peculiar structure was found hidden within a concealed cave on the lagoon’s edge. This structure, unknown to the archaeologist who found it, would soon prove to be a long forgotten - and the last – mortal entrance to the Underworld.

Hundreds watched the structure’s opening live through the archaeologist’s University social media feeds, and since then billions have seen the broadcasted feed. It has become the most viewed video footage the world has ever known, seen by anyone with a smartphone within months of its original broadcast.

James Bailey and his team spent a little over three months getting the calcified door to a position where it could successfully be opened without compromising the integrity of the structure. When that hinged slab finally fell inward, the team were greeted by a thick plume of black smoke, escaping from deep within the open cave. Then, after a few suspenseful seconds, from out of the smoke Dr Bailey was launched into the air from the doorway’s entrance to a pile of rocks over eighty meters away, breaking his ribs and his collarbone, fracturing his pelvis, and inducing a coma.

Before the footage cuts out, three separate, large forms are seen moving through the smoke before shooting off into the sky, before a fourth launches itself towards the camera, terminating the transmission. Whilst none of the crew who witnessed the opening of the doorway survived to say just how many of these creatures escaped, we do know what escaped.

Creatures of great power and importance in our history, never believed to exist as tangible beings - at least until they stood before us all, in all of their resplendent glory.

Only one of these beasts was immediately confirmed, and that’s only because it automatically resumed the role of its legend: the guardian to the now-open door to the underworld.

The Lernaean Hydra.

In the five years that followed the release of the creatures - dubbed The Catastrophes by the Greek government - each of the world’s leaders and governments attempted to subdue and defeat the Hydra, both on their own and with other international agencies. But all to no avail.

Thousands eventually lost their lives attempting to pacify the creature, only to have either their armies or vehicles melted by its acidic spittle, or eaten by one of its many heads. As time wore on the beast was eventually left alone, allowed to reside in the lake, which has since refilled with water and mixed with deadly poison secreted from the Hydra’s skin.

The Governments no longer want to waste their time and resources attempting to defeat not just the Hydra, but the other creatures that have since started to appear and wreak havoc on settlements across Greece. Instead, they’ve decided to pass on such challenges to the public, using international subsidies as incentives for those brave enough to heed the call.

These individuals have come to be known as Champions: whose call to adventure inspires them to train to fight against these mythical creatures, helping to secure populated areas from intrusion and act as the first line of defence in the event of an attack conducted by any of the creatures. The government salary doesn’t hurt, either. In the four years since Champions entered into the mainstream, there has only been one widely known to the world with any real sense of recognition.

Kieran Corrigan.

What had set him apart from others, though, would ultimately be his downfall. Kieran was the first person to singlehandedly ‘defeat’ one of the larger ‘Class B’ creatures, capturing it and posting it to his live-stream on the Government’s ‘Champions App’ service.

He gave hope to people.

For a few short days, at least.

Kieran had defeated a curious giant, who’d made his way down from his home in the mountains and attacked the town of Kantia, after being aggravated by a group of children playing on the town’s outskirts. They’d bombarded the giant with stones from their slingshots. When Kieran subdued the giant, rather than letting it peacefully return to its home in the mountain, he took it upon himself to behead the creature - then, to add further insult to both the giant and the other mountain folk, he placed the giant’s head on a pike, facing the mountain, as a warning to other creatures who might have similar ideas about attacking the settlement.

What Kieran and the rest of the town didn’t know is that the giant was the love of a mountain nymph, named Liihn.

Prior to these events she’d been quite lovely, even visiting the town occasionally herself and finding no issue with the mortals residing there. However, the day she went searching for her paramour when he hadn’t returned, her heart was destroyed on finding his head displayed grotesquely at the town’s exit.

Her retribution was swift, and equally gruesome.

Heading into the town, posing as an old lady, she searched idly for information about the person who had killed the giant. She didn’t need to search long. The attention of the village residents had since gone to Kieran’s head. He’d been regaling them with tales of the ordeal at a local pub on a daily basis since the day it happened. The people of the town were all too ready to hear the story again and again, which Kieran had since embellished and twisted with every retelling - despite the video evidence of the encounter being available for all to see.

That night, an old lady listened from the corner of the room as the Champion’s yarn was spun throughout the bar. Every untruth and exaggeration of the feat woven into the story, making Kieran’s achievement feel much grander than it actually was, served only to enrage the nymph further. As Kieran’s story came to an end, the crowd sent up a triumphant cheer for the gleeful Champion, but the crowd’s jubilant faces soon turned to horror. They watched Kieran’s body became rigid, slowly lifting from the table on which he’d been standing.

The whole bar watched impotently as they saw Kieran’s phone float up out of his pocket, switch itself on, and the live-stream service start up, before pointing itself towards his face. His face was pained, it was obvious he was struggling to move but unable to break free from the enchantment under which he had been placed.

A minute after his phone started up, the four million people watching the live stream saw the skin from Kieran’s face slowly peeling away from his skull, leaving only muscle tendons on display. His clothing dissolved in front of the whole bar, leaving him floating naked above a table, his skin being torn away further and further down his body, and in larger and larger clumps.

It was almost impossible not to watch.

His screams, chilling.

The world witnessed the horror of their short-lived Champion left floating in the air, skinned alive in front of a terrified crowd and an even more horrified live audience. The world would only ever know his killer from the wink she gave the camera, during her brief appearance at the end of the broadcast.

That night, a Champion died, and a whole village was petrified by a jilted nymph.

This was - and still is - the worst recorded curse the world had known since the age of magic was reintroduced to the mortal realm. It served as a warning to the world as a whole.

The divine and magic creatures are not to be tested.

Soon after Kieran’s death, much of the Greek population attempted to leave, or reluctantly stayed, living in fear. The population of mystical and malevolent creatures in the country has become more and more dense over the five years since the door opened, which has in turn has caused many more to flee to the larger cities, or from the country entirely, to lands further afield, unaffected by the influence of magic.

Unaffected for now, at least.

Champions continue to be hired to ensure that the individuals who stayed behind, or who cannot afford the move, are kept safe. The uncovered doorway to the Underworld is no doubt the epicentre of the madness that the world has witnessed over the last five years.

The closer to the door you get, the higher the number of creatures you are likely to encounter, each creature looking to meddle in the lives of mortals after their long hiatus in the realms of obscurity. Almost at breaking point, the world is desperate for a conclusive solution to the menace that plagues the Mediterranean. Whilst all these Champions are well and good for holding the mythical creatures at bay, the world needs a more permanent solution.

We don’t need any more Champions.

We need a Hero.

CHAPTER ONE

It’s a warm evening at the end of January, the nights slowly growing shorter as the world once more veers toward springtime.

Rainey Chamberlain is working late at her office in Central London. Having spent her day putting the finishing touches to a large project presentation, she’s become lost in the final adjustments, and doesn’t realise the time until it’s far later than she would normally end her working day.

When she finally noticed the hour, she starts to panic.

Her office situated against the back wall of the media company’s top-floor workspace, between the Chief Marketing Executive and the company’s main meeting rooms. Packing away her laptop and collecting the rest of her possessions from the coat stand in the corner of the office, Rainey’s mind starts to race as she exits her glass workspace, locking the door behind her. As the door clicks locked, Rainey places her bag on the ground beside her and throws her jacket around her shoulders, and shrugs it into place. She pulls up the zip before taking a breath to compose herself, making her way through the floor’s dimly lit cubicles of the work-floor, toward the bank of elevators in the building’s centre. As she presses the Call Lift button, she looks down and checks her watch.

18:45.

I’m so bloody late, she thinks, shifting uncomfortably in place, anxious awaiting the lift’s arrival.

Rainey is what many would consider to be ‘traditionally’ good looking. Her hair is a golden brown with natural curls which fall just below her shoulders. Her eyes are deep blue pools, framed by a sparse spread of dark orange freckles which spatter across her nose and onto each cheek, housed on a canvas of perfect porcelain skin. She has never been the biggest fan of her appearance. She chooses instead to hide away her natural beauty from the world, behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses and clumsily tied up hair, making every effort to look as plain and invisible as possible.

The elevator lets out a ‘Ding’, reaching its destination. The doors in front of Rainey slide open. Hesitantly, she looks up from her feet to inspect the small box. It’s empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, she steps in and presses the green G button.

Hold the lift please! a voice calls out to Rainey, across the office.

She recognises the man’s voice and her anxiety steadily starts to spike. She hammers the G button, in the hope beyond hope that the door closes in time. Alas, the patter of hurried footsteps along the stone floor rapidly approach and Rainey’s frantic jabs at the button aren’t enough to prevent the inevitable. Just when the doors finally start to close and a sense of relief washes over her, it is quickly snatched away when a leather case is placed in the way of the closing doors; forcing them to reopen, and a rushed man to enter.

Oh? The man stops suddenly, realising who is in the elevator. Hello, Rainey. What are you doing here so late?

James is the Systems Architect for Modulus, the Web Development Company for which they both work.

Hey, yeah. She edges to the corner of the box, keeping her sights fixed firmly on the floor in front of her. It looks like the site’s new design integration project is going to be running to the wire, thanks to Ade’s insistence on adding new features last minute. I lost track of time putting together my notes for tomorrow’s stakeholder presentation. Her hands anxiously grip her bag, clinging to the corner of the lift as it slowly hums down toward the lobby.

Ugh, James exclaims, leaning his head back and exhaling, exasperated. The sooner that project’s over with, the better. It’s causing my guys more hassle than its worth. Oh, how’s Jake?

There’s a pause between them, an awkward silence filling the space between them. James looks over at Rainey, who is now stood up a little straighter, her eyes fixed to the doors, her hands grasping steadfastly to her bag, her knuckles white.

I know. It’ll all be over soon though, hopefully, she finally manages. The room is filled with the elevator’s soft ‘Ding’ once more as the doors open up to the large, stately building’s respectable lobby.

James holds out his hand, allowing Rainey to exit first, an opportunity she jumps at, hurrying past James to leave the small room and the conversation she didn’t really want to engage in right now.

Have a lovely evening! she calls back over her shoulder, as she rushes to the exit of the building. She smiles at the security guard as she passes his desk, out the revolving door and down the street, checking her watch as she moves at speed through the busy London streets.

18:52

Agh! I’m going to miss it! She thinks.

Her pace quickens from a fast walk to a steady jog, her heels hindering her potential to pick up any real speed – regardless, they don’t prevent her from trying.

18:59.

It’s only a few minutes to the station, which she reaches in good time, but as she rounds the corner to the station’s entrance she is caught off-guard by a cyclist riding on the pavement, who startles her into stopping suddenly and stepping sharply back on her heel, breaking the heel of her shoe in the process, and twisting her ankle. Rainey falls to the ground in agony, clutching at her foot, the pain almost unbearable.

Almost.

Sorry! The man’s voice calls back toward her as he trails off into the darkness. Despite having seen her fall, and call out in pain, the cyclist continues on without even so much as a backward glance toward her.

Ffffffffuck... she whispers to herself as she lets go of her ankle and removes her shoe. She’s only on the pavement for a moment or two before her mind clicks back to the time, and she attempts to lift herself back up onto her feet.

She struggles up on her good foot, but when she tries to apply pressure to her injured limb she stumbles and falls back down to the cold, hard ground. Again, she checks the time.

19:05.

There’s still time, the train might be late, she thinks, before trying to stand once more – though this time she’s aided by an arm that wraps under her left shoulder, which she leans into as she hoists herself up to her feet. As she reaches her feet, a second, smaller, arm slides under her right shoulder and steadies her.

Are you alright? the man under her left arm asks, as Rainey tries to put pressure onto her twisted ankle.

I can’t believe that bastard didn’t stop, the woman on her right says, as they attempt to console Rainey.

Thank you, yes, I’m quite alright, she replies, obviously lying, and just a little embarrassed. I’m so sorry, I’m very late and I need to catch my train. She tries to pull herself away from the bemused couple.

Don’t you think you should rest your ankle before rushing off? says the woman, relinquishing Rainey’s arm.

I’ll be fine, thank you so much for your help. Rainey hobbles off toward the station, the pressure passing through her ankle serving agony with every step, but she pushes forward until she finally reaches the station. She searches the departure boards frantically for her train, only to see that it no longer featured on the board, and that the next available train home is forty minutes away.

Shit. She struggles to hide her frustration.

Tears form in her eyes as her mind drifts to home and what’s waiting. It’s a minute or so before her mind begins to register the pain in her ankle as it flares, having stood on it absentmindedly as her mind races from searching, to panic, to fear, to acquiescence. Limping forward, she makes her way over to one of the rail staff and does her best to explain what’s happened, asking if he might have an icepack in the first-aid supplies to help with the swelling. The older gentleman helps her over to a vacant bench and sits her down, before wandering off to check the station’s supplies.

Rainey sits on the bench, her injured leg laid across the seats beside her, pain radiating up through her leg. She reaches down to massage the swollen joint, which only serves to exacerbate the pain, but in a kind-of good way.

’Ere ya go, Miss. Get that on your ankle. the old man says, as he returns a few minutes later with some ice in a bag wrapped in a tea-towel, holding it out for her to take.

Thank you. she responds, before being forced to wince in pain as the ice reacts with her skin, and her aggravated ankle makes her very aware of its displeasure at being harmed.

I’ll come get ya when your train’s ready. the man says, before making his way back to his post.

As she waits, her mind drifts back and forth between the presentation she’d been working on and her partner waiting for her at home. She could feel herself becoming overwhelmed as her thoughts turn to Jake. She had meant to message him earlier in the afternoon, but the opportunity slipped by as she became more and more enraptured by her work.

He’s going to be so mad. She thinks, as she reaches into her bag to retrieve her phone, a Nokia 130 that he bought for her. She wasn’t allowed a smart phone: they have ’too much temptation‘, according to Jake.

Oh wow, now that’s a blast from the past. A voice says from behind her.

Rainey looks up from her phone to see the young couple that helped her up a few minutes ago.

Oh, yes. I try to keep myself away from social media. This is the best way I’ve found. She lies.

How are you feeling? The small woman asks, her face awash with concern as she stares at Rainey’s ankle.

Oh, I’m fine... it’s just, twisted up pretty good. She responds. The man over there got me some ice to put on it, I’m hoping the swelling subsides a little before the next train home arrives. Rainey turns a little to see them better.

That’s good, you had us worried when you ran off.

I’m sorry, I was hoping to catch the 19:03 train, but I missed it. She drops her head, refocusing on her phone.

Well, if you need anything in the meantime, we’ll be around for a bit. The man says, as he gently pulls his partner away toward one of the food vendors, the woman placing a hand on Rainey’s shoulder as she’s ushered away.

Rainey pulls up the messages app on her phone and types out a message before reviewing it.

"Jake, I lost track of time at the office and missed the last peak train home.

Next train at 19:50. See you soon."

She hesitates to press send.

She’s unsure as to which would be worse - sending Jake the update late, or not at all? Maybe she could pretend to have lost her phone at work. Or perhaps she simply left it in one of the meeting rooms at some point during the day, and forgot to retrieve it before going home? So many options present themselves to her, as she loses herself in the decision. Ultimately, she knew that there was no right answer. She was a poor liar, so would be unable to lie about the phone. He would know instantly, which would serve only to make matters worse. No, she would simply have to bite the bullet, be honest, and accept whatever came next.

He might have had a good day?

Miss.

Rainey is shocked back to the station by the old man’s hand as it presses her shoulder.

Your train’s arrived miss, I’m here to take you to the platform. The man says, motioning towards a wheelchair he’s brought up from the station’s medical office.

I... Thank you. You’re too kind. She responds, swinging her leg down from the bench and pushing herself up onto her good foot, before easing herself into the wheelchair. She’s ushered through the barricades with the platform attendant, who wheels her to the first unreserved carriage.

Are ya ‘right ta jump up? Or will ya be needin’ ‘elp? He asks as he parks her in front of the closed doors.

I, I think I’ll be fine, she responds. It’s not as painful anymore, just a little tender. She pulls herself up from the chair and turns towards the man.

He offers her a smile, which she returns in kind.

Thank you, you’ve been a real help.

The Nineteen, Fifty-Five service to Horsham is now boarding from Platform Six. If you intend to use this service, please proceed to the platform now.

The pre-recorded voice echoes through the station.

Looks like gen’ral boardin’s started. Safe travels miss, the man offers, before pulling the chair away from her and turning back toward the main station.

Rainey opens the door to the carriage, sits in the first available window seat and waits for the rest of the seats around her to be filled with other patrons of the service.

When the train eventually starts its slow departure from the platform, Rainey breathes an uneasy sigh as her thoughts return once more to home.

CHAPTER TWO

A taxi pulls up to the modest three-bedroom detached home in Broadbridge Heath just before nine, forgoing Rainey’s usual cycle home from the station thanks to her injured ankle, and without the luxury of time. As she exits the cab, she notices that her heart has decided to take up residence in her throat, beating loudly in her ear, and her mind regresses to similar instances of her tardy arrivals home.

As she walks up the short driveway, she hopes beyond hope that he simply isn’t home, and that she could just go about her evening routine in peace before bed.

Unfortunately, this evening, luck is not on her side.

She reaches the front door, unlocks it with her key, and crosses the threshold into her home, heels in hand. Her ankle still swollen, walking on it once more irritating the injury, she hobbles to the kitchen to get some frozen peas from the freezer. As she rounds the corner past the oven, she is greeted by Jake, sat at their kitchen table, casually reviewing his phone.

Hi honey, Rainey offers rather cheerily to her silent, stoic, partner. He ignores her greeting for a few seconds before eventually breaking his gaze is from his phone, and raised to see the dishevelled Rainey. His eyes are dark, but are soon brightened on seeing her hobbling on her horrid, discoloured, ankle.

Oh shit, he chuckles slightly. What happened to you? He pushes away from the table, and makes his way over to her.

I was rushing for the train and my heel slipped, I think I’ve sprained it.

Oh, you poor thing, he starts, opening up the freezer door and reaching in for a bag of something frozen before wrapping it in a towel. Come here. He beckons her toward him, but walks forward to meet her halfway. With the cold compress in his left hand, he wraps his right arm under Rainey and lifts her from the floor and cradles her in his arms.

He carries the weary Rainey upstairs to their bedroom, where he places her on her side of the bed, and helps her to remove her jacket, before positioning her legs up on the bed. He takes the two of the pillows from his side of the bed, and places them under the calf of her damaged ankle, elevating it, then places the wrapped bag of peas onto the inflamed joint.

Rainey winces from the cold, but he continues to hold it firmly against her skin.

Don’t move, I’ll be back in a minute. Jake says, getting up from the bed and making his way out of the bedroom, across the landing to the bathroom.

Rainey soon hears running water in their bathtub, a few moments later, Jake returns, bathrobe in hand. The expression on his face having changed also, from that of benevolent concern, to a malevolent scowl.

Now comes the part she hated most: the ‘talk’.

You know the rules. Six Thirty. No later. He throws the robe onto the bed, revealing a switch in his hand, which he’d cut from one of the trees in the park a few months ago.

I’m sorry, I was working on the design integration and lost track of ti...

*SNAP*

Jake whips the switch down across Rainey’s near-side upper thigh as hard as he’s able, leaving a welt in her skin, visible under her tan tights after just a few seconds. Rainey lets out a small whelp, but no more.

She knows better.

She retreats into her head, focusing on something else, anything but the pain.

Excuses, excuses, Jake casually continues, The fact that you would go so far as to put on this display, and to hurt yourself in the process, I’m disappointed.

Jake takes Rainey’s skirt in both hands, and with one almighty tug, he tears the garment in two, right up to the waist, where he struggles to rip through the thicker material at the skirt’s waistband. Rainey tries to help by undoing the button at the skirt’s side, but receives a kiss on the cheek from the back of Jake’s hand for her troubles. When he’s unable to pull apart the waistband, Jake walks over to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room, on top of which resides Rainey’s small haberdashery, home to her large fabric scissors.

Now, hold still. Jake’s eyes are cold. Rainey lays frozen in panic, unable to protest as he opens the scissors and slowly glides one of the blades up her thigh, over her hip, and under the waist band, before snapping down, hard. He throws the separated pieces of fabric apart, exposing the bottom half of Rainey’s body to the cool air of the room.

Take off your tops, he tells her coldly.

Jake, please... Again she’s cut short with another swift back-hand to the side of her face. Always hard enough to hurt, but soft enough not to leave a mark.

I won’t. Ask. Again.

His words are stern, and Rainey knows instinctively that she doesn’t really have a choice in the matter, just as her mother before her believed there to be no way out. Rainey leans forward and pulls off her jumper, placing it beside her in a clump before unbuttoning her shirt, Jake’s ever-watchful eyes never leaving her form. She pulls one arm out of its sleeve, before removing the garment completely from the other side and placing it atop the jumper.

Now, roll over.

Again, Rainey complies without hesitation.

She has learned that opting to get it over with, and hoping beyond hope that her punishment is short and sweet is far easier than offering any kind of protest. Unfortunately for her, it had been a while since Jake was this riled up.

She obediently complies, rolling over onto her belly, and exposing her back to Jake, whose eyes start to explore the finely crafted history written across her skin in scars and blemishes of differing shapes and sizes.

He takes a moment to stand back and admire his handiwork, as a proud artist would their latest canvas.

*SNAP*

The switch tears through the air, and into Rainey’s shoulders. Again, the welt comes up almost immediately, the skin breaks causing her to leak small crimson dots along the embossed impression left by the blow.

*SNAP*

This time, the switch hits diagonally across her back, Rainey barely flinches, but her body clenches.

Jake looks down at her, disapprovingly. He prefers it when she calls out, he gets off on the feedback provided by a muffled scream, or the pleading cries of his partner.

Rainey offered nothing.

*SNAP* *SNAP*

*SNAP* *SNAP*

*SNAP* *SNAP*

*SNAP* *SNAP*

*SNAP* *SNAP*

He hammers at her back, her butt, and the top of her thighs, almost losing his composure in his pursuit for pleasure, but not quite.

Still unwilling to give him what he wanted, Rainey meets her breaking point and begins to sob softly into the pillow in which she had buried her face - unable to hold back after the tirade of blows, which have caused her entire body to throb with stinging pains.

I do wish you wouldn’t force me to do this to you. The rules are there to be followed, you know that. Why must you be so disobedient? Jake sits down on the bed, next to Rainey’s curled up body, and begins stroking her hair. You know I hate to see you like this.

He undoes her bra strap and pulls off the rest of her underwear, before getting her to roll over onto her back once more and again taking her up in his arms. She holds on to him, clinging to the affection she so craved now that her punishment had been dealt.

At least, that’s what she thought.

Jake carries Rainey to the bathroom, steam from the bath is visible in plumes rising slowly from the water’s surface. The tub is quite full, complimented with bubbles, and the sweet smell of lavender wafts towards the couple.

Now, you clean yourself up and relax, Jake says, as he lowers the ‘love of his life’ into the water.

Her screams are shrill and ear-piercing.

Whilst the water isn’t exactly boiling, it’s far from being comfortably habitable by a human body. Combined with the fact that Jake has treated the water with a 500g bag of black-sea bath salts, the wounds on Rainey’s back react to the water immediately, and her skin screams as it’s submerged.

Rainey goes to scream again, but her mouth is quickly covered by Jake’s hand, which presses firmly and uncomfortably against her face, pushing her into the bath frame.

Shhhh, little one, it’ll all be fine in a moment.

Rainey flails impotently in the burning bathtub, her skin ablaze in its fiery waters. Completely incapable of securing any purchase against the tub with her feet, or with her hands, which try in vain to both remove Jake’s hand from her mouth and simultaneously pull herself out.

Alas, Jake is just too strong for her.

After trying for a few moments, Rainey relinquishes any hope of getting out and allows herself to go limp beneath Jake’s grip, trying desperately to take her mind off what her body was experiencing, and focus