The Lord of the sins

Freya's eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the room's brightness. She squinted and tried to get up from the cold floor where she lay, her head hammering like a train was running through it. She felt weak—weaker than she had been in her entire life. And the worst thing was that she barely remembered anything that happened. Or how she got in the…

She suddenly flinched when she felt something crawling up her skin and her eyes got completely open.

“Argh!“ Freya jumped off the floor as she saw the “thing” in question was a snake. It was very tiny but she had seen so much in her life to judge anything by their size. That thing could kill her with just a single strike for all she knew.

She was so distracted by the snake crawling towards her that she didn't bother to look around the room and find out where she was. Eventually, she discovered that she was not alone when she heard someone sigh.

Freya immediately forgot about the snake and raised her head to look at the entrance to the cold room she was in. She gasped in disbelief when her eyes fell on the sight before her. Freya felt her heart skip beats and her body go limp as she stared at the God sitting on a chair close to the door—no! “God” was not the best word to describe him.

The man—whoever he was—was so d*mn good-looking. No! Good-looking is an even worse understatement. He was a thousand times more beautiful than all of the celebrities and men she had ever seen in her life. He was tall, his charcoal-dark hair was scattered and swept to the left side of his face. He had a strongly-defined masculine jawline and dark eyes that held no emotions in them, and he didn't blink for even a second as his evil-looking eyes behold hers.

Freya wanted to speak but found the words hanging in her throat. Somehow, the God in the room looked and had an even more frightening effect on her than the snake which she had completely forgotten about.

“What are you?“ his soft and yet terrifying voice sent a shock wave through her body.

Freya wasn't sure how to answer the question—wasn't sure why he used “what” and not “who”. His voice was like ice water pouring over her in the already cold room. “I—”

He got up from the chair and started to approach her with slow and careful steps. Freya's heartbeat increased its pace in fear as she saw his muscular and fine body features and his long fingers which she imagined running over her skin…

Freya completely lost her breath as his height leaned over hers. She heard him sigh before she felt the coldness of his hands on her skin.

“Aah,” she moaned before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened in shock and she suddenly used her hands to cover her mouth. She didn't know why she felt so afraid and oddly comforted with his presence at the same time. Somehow, she didn't care what happened or his intention with her. Even if it turned out that she'd been kidnapped; she would be more than happy since her abductor was a devilish-handsome demi-god.

His long fingers which she deeply idolised raised up her chin so she was staring eye-to-eye with him. But she immediately averted her gaze due to a sudden feeling in her stomach.

“Look at me.“ His tone was harsh, impatient and demanding… but still she felt some sort of silenced undertone in it—like he was pleading with her to obey him.

Without her will, she found herself obeying and looking straight at his dark eyes in the next minute.

His gaze didn't waver or divert, and his eyes certainly didn't move downwards. His index finger was still on her cheeks, and he wasn't saying anything or emitting a single emotion from his face.

At last, he let go of her cheeks and sighed before turning back and walking to the door.

Freya didn't have any idea of what was happening, or the kind of mess she was in. The last thing she remembered was going to buy foodstuffs for her and her brother who was sixteen, five years younger than her.

“W-who are… you? And… where am I?“ she stammered, her sense of reasoning suddenly returning.

He stopped just as his hands touched the gate which led out of wherever she was. He slowly turned to look at her, his expression as blank as dying in your sleep.

“Just hope you're not what I see in your eyes… or your death is going to be more pleasurable than the others.“ He disappeared after that, not seeming to lock the gate.

Freya died a thousand deaths after he left. For minutes, she stood frozen in place as she looked at where he had been sitting like she could still see him there.

“Oh my God,” she said, crashing to the cold floor. “What is this?“

Strangely, even after everything that happened, Freya still wasn't scared of the situation on ground. She was only thinking about her brother and how he would react and cope with life if she never goes back to him.

Freya's heart broke at the thought of that. That man—the handsome devil in human form who had tortured her with just his touch, had said her death would be more pleasurable than that of the others if she was what he saw in her eyes. Which brought her to the question: WHAT WAS IT THAT HE SAW IN HER EYES?

Freya soon realised that she was worrying about the wrong thing. Her survival instincts were screaming and warning her to get out of wherever she was before it became too late.