Point of View: Dakota Black

"I don't remember having sex with Emara."

Sweat drips down my nape as I sit there with my distorted memory. All I can recall is Emara's tantalizing dance, her seducing moves fill my vision, and then.. nothing.

The rest is swallowed by darkness, as if the file has been deleted from my mind and I have no records of what I missed.

A silence stretches between us and the only thing I hear is my raging heart thudding against my ribs. For a brief second I think Xavier might have hung up, but then his voice, heavy with concern breaks the stillness.

"Are you taking your pills on time?" Xavier asks, with a serious tone in his voice.

"Yeah, I took them yesterday." I say, recalling the memory of swallowing my pill, after last night's turn of events. But, wait! Wasn't that a sedative?

"No. I.. I don't remember when I took the last dose." I whisper in a haze, my mind is clouded with confusion. When was the last time I took the pill?

"Dakota, you know how crucial it is for you to take them every day." Xavier's concerning voice reaches me, when I suddenly spot the bottle I have been desperately searching for.

"If you want to have a control over your unpredictably aggressive side, then you need to take them regularly. Do you understand?" He questions me with severity as I go pick the bottle, hiding behind my bathroom's door.

"I know." I say, reading its label: Anti-Psychotic medicine prescribed by Dr. Xavier Lance. I unscrew the cap and peer inside to find it completely empty.

How is this even possible?

"Your other personality is very complicate to handle. He came up as a result of your dark childhood trauma. All the pain, the anger you bottled up, your experience with bullying, the suffering you felt all those years.. you accidentally converted all of it into an alternative personality, that too a very violent one."

Xavier's voice dims down to a whisper in my head, as I try to figure out the mystery disappearance of my medicines.

I have been taking my medicines religiously, then how come I didn't notice that the bottle is empty. And since when?

How long I have been skipping my pills?

Am I really taking them or am I living in a hallucination?

"The other you, he doesn't understand empathy, feelings of others, or even physical pain. He is a savage who only understands one language, that is brutality. He speaks in wrath and talks in bloodshed. One can hardly call him a human."

A chilling thought dawns on me. The missing pills, the constant headache and the memory gap, they all point to one terrifying possibility. This is not the first time!

"We are still trying to figure out what triggers him to come out. But understand this, the more times he overpowers you, the more times you get weaker mentally. And the weaker you become, the easier it gets for him to become you and decide your life."

My alternative personality, the one that bathes in rage, took control over my mind more than once, in fact a couple of times that I didn't even notice.

He even discarded all my psychotic drugs that keep him in control!

"And this is not safe for your mental health, or for the people around you. A deteriorating mental state will amplify your headaches, heighten the hallucinations, and the little whispers in your head, won't be whispers anymore."

The monster within me is out, and he does not want to be caged by those pills again.

"And then frequent blackouts will occur like today, and once again you won't remember anythin- Hold on.. How did you know about what happened with Emara if you don't remember doing with her? Are you hearing those voices again? Dakota? Dakota!"

"Huh, what?" I snap back to reality, startled by Xavier yelling my name in his urgent tone.

"Did you hear any voices in your head before the blackout?" He repeats, severity dripping from his voice.

"Uh.. Yes. I have been hearing them again for quite some time." I admit, my voice lacking the confidence Dakota Black is known for.

"Since when?" Xavier's tone sharp, and curiously alarming.

I think hard, trying to pen down a proper date, when hazel eyes emerges from the depths of my memories and stare back at me.

"It all started since Emara came to take my interview." I confess, reliving that moment when her heels clicked in my ears, and her fragrance filled my cabin as she walked in, playing with her hair.

In that very moment, something inside me shifted. A darker, more primal urge took over me, awakening a burning desire for her, and an unsettling thirst to drink her tears.

Xavier lets out a weary sigh on the other end. "This is not good, Dakota. This girl not only has an effect on you, but she has a deeper one on your other personality. He is obsessed with the idea of taking revenge from her, and for that he will use what he loves the most, violence."

The thought itself sends shivers down my spine and suddenly, I wonder what might I have done to her tonight. And how long I was blacked out?

"You need to get that girl out of your house. For her safety, and your own."

A deep, vicious growl reverberates within me, at the very mention of sending Emara away from me. It awakens something primal in me.

"And I think you should sleep now. Lack of rest is making you speak any shit." A dark voice comes out of me.

"Dakota?" Xavier's voice drops to a whisper, he must have sensed the abrupt shift in me, as I warn him..

"And do not tell me what to do, doctor. I know where you live." I hang up the phone, not waiting to hear his reply.

. . .

Fuck!

The room is dimly lit, and I am lying motionless on my bed.

Along with the fan above me, everything else is also spinning around me. My head is twirling and every pulse deeps the throbbing effect beside my temples.

Suddenly, my palm vibrates and I see Xavier's text message. I recall how he abruptly hung upon me seconds ago. He is acting off too, I think before reading his text..

'Take your pills regularly n please, do not listen to the voices in ur head'

'If possible, stay away from the girl'

The girl.. Emara.

I exhale deeply thinking about that girl, wondering what my beastial side would have done to her. Accessing the security footage on my phone, I rewind to know what exactly happened after her dance.

What could have I done?

My fingers pause on the screen for a second, and I scroll back to the timestamp she started dancing, so I can relive that moment again.

Déjà vu hits different at this time of the night as I watch her dance for me, swaying her body like an enchantress while we both bathe in the red lusting lights of my drawing room.

'You don't take instructions well' The recorded version of me declares to Emara, which I don't remember saying. 

I sit upright, keeping my eyes on myself as I approach her with erratic steps and start talking to her.

My body language talks differently, like a version of me that I am unknown to. 

'You need to know one thing about me, Emara. I do not go where I am not welcomed. I do not enter without an invitation.' I hear myself say, which I clearly remember saying.

It deeply hurt me, when she thought of me being as someone so low that he would use force to bed a woman.

I would never, ever do this to any girl, leaving Emara alone.

'If you are drenched down there.. I'll fuck you, hard. Right now.' My own voice catches me off guard. I said that?

'Touch yourself and tell me how wet you are.'

A sense of familiarity rings through me, like I am watching a memory of someone else in my mind.

But did I really say that?

Suddenly, I watch myself slip my hand inside her pants and I look away, feeling like a creep who is prying on a couple's private moment.

Her moans and my words, they all sound like an echo in the tunnel of my mind, very familiar, yet very distant.

'Did I tell you? You were soaking wet against my palm when I spanked you in the morning.' I hear myself say.

At this moment, I am not even sure if that man in the footage is truly me or my dark personality. My memories are so distorted, that I can't even differentiate if they are mine or his.

'Fuck you.' Emara yells through the screen and my attention draws back to the video, where I see myself holding her roughly, 'No. I will fuck you.' And growls menacingly at her, before dragging her up all the way to her room.

I feel my heart wildly thudding against my ribs as I fast forward the video, all while thinking what that violent beast in me would have done to Emara.

Did I hit her?

Did I beat her down like I have done to my opponents in the fighting ring?

Oh god! Please, no. Please, no, no, no.

After a time stamp of half an hour, my other self steps out of her room, directing a satisfying smirk right straight at the camera of the floor, almost like he knew I will watch him.

He knew!

A chill passes through me as the realization hits me. He knew, that room has no cameras. That's why he intentionally took Emara there.

I run my fingers frantically through my hair, trying to hold on to the deadly thoughts tornado-ing through me.

What if I have really hurt her?

I need to see her. I don't know what he had done to her in the moment of rage. I have to see her for myself.

With trembling steps, I reach for the door. "Eve, remove Code 9." I utter, my voice breaking slightly as Emara's crying eyes flashes in front of me.

"Security password required."

"Eunoia." I say, before taking a steady breath.

"Please spell the password." The AI prompts.

Taking a moment to swallow hard, I close my eyes and read the letters from deep within my mind, "E. U. N. O. I. A."

"For further verification, please define the password."

"It means.. A well-balanced mind." I croak out, the irony of using such a password when my own mind feels like the eye of a cyclone, surrounded all around by the thick clouds of chaos.

All the things I have to do to keep myself alive!

The security system processes my responses, and after what feels like an eternity, I hear the doors unlock for me.

"Code 9 has been removed." Eve confirms, and I finally walk out of my prison.

My heart feels like a prick and every beat pulsating through me physically hurts me as I walk up to her room. My hand hesitates upon the cold handle of her door, my sweaty palm slips slightly and I grip it tightly.

Fuck!

I am scared, but I am more scared for her.

I am scared to see her condition, scared to know what my brutal self has done to her.

With a staggering long breath, I gather all my courage and gently push open the door. A soft glow illuminates the silent room, showing scattered clothes on the floor and Emara lying on the bed.

She looks so fragile, so vulnerable as she cocoons the blanket around her like a wounded bird, to shield herself from predators lurking in the dark, from me.

With silent steps, I approach her. The shadow of fear presses down on me, as I slowly lie beside her sleeping body, careful not to disturb her.

My fingers shake as if they can't bear the weight of my entire soul while I push away loose strands of her hair to get a clear look of her face.

My heart is hammering so loudly in my ears that I fear the sound of my heartbeats would wake her up. But then, her face comes into full view and I let go of my breath.

Fuck, thank god!

Relief washes over me as I detect no signs of bruise or cuts on her face, nor any evidence of physical harm. He didn't hurt her, at least not physically.

But her naked body, swollen eyelids, and dried trails of tears on her cheeks tell a different story.

I violated her, in the worst way possible.

I feel a clench in my chest, an intense pressure that seems to suffocate me from within. I feel pain, a fierce sting in my heart, as if I am going through physical injury.

I am such a fucking piece of shit!

A pathetic excuse of a man, who couldn't even control my anger, nor desires. It feels like I am trapped in a nightmare, and witnessing the sins of the monster I swore never to become.

She deserves it!

A dark whisper echoes through my mind, telling me he is still there inside of me.

"She did not deserve this!" I try to reason with my twisted alter ego. But he doesn't sit quietly, instead retorts with a growl..

Emara is a lying bitch. She brought this on herself.

I breathe rapidly, clenching my fists to my sides. Every time my guilt tries to rise, the darkness inside me suppresses it, reminding me of the pain, the torture I went because of her.

She even deserves to get the worst!

I nod my head as if understanding the deeper version of myself. Why do I even care about her? I mean, I don't even like her in the first place.

And she is not even that pretty!

Those freckles on her cheeks, and the gap in between her teeth when she smiles. I have never seen such a ridiculous smile in my life.

She did us dirty, and we do her dirty!

A twisted sense of justice prevails in me, agreeing to the sinister voice in my head.

Emara deserves my beast! She called the police on me and then cleverly framed me in the drug case, all for that motherfucker.

She fucking deserves it!

Every fiber of me hates her for what she did to me. She knew what she was doing. She knew she was destroying my life, despite knowing that I liked her. Yet, she brought me down to my knees with broken bones, broken dreams, and a broken heart.

She deserves the wors-

Suddenly, my heart jumps out of my chest as Emara stirs in her sleep and lays her head on my shoulder. My eyes snap open and slowly draw to her with a fear that I might have woken her up.

But there she is, sleeping soundly on the shoulder of the guy who loathes her.

I feel my heart racing as I stare at the sleeping beauty. The weight of her head, the softness of her hair against my neck and her warm breath on my skin, it all becomes the world to me.

It's like she is taking a refuge among the swirling chaos and I vow to protect her at any cost.

I slowly lean in to her and breathe in her lush scent. A smile surfaces on my skin as I realize, she smells like me.

A calmness prevails in me as if she has silenced all the demons in me and took my over my raging senses. I feel... peaceful in her presence, something I have been craving for centuries.

"I am so sorry, love." My lips graze against her forehead and they leave a gentle peck, going against the protocols of revenge. 

The protective, nurturing side takes over me and I pull her closer. My hand brushes her soft cheeks, where the trails of her tears are still visible. 

"Shh.. Don't cry, baby." I whisper, kissing her swollen eyelids.

"I hate myself too." I lick my lips and slowly lean in to peck her tear dried cheeks as an apology, hoping to take away all her pain.

"It wasn't me, Emara. I.. I never wanted to do this... Fuck!" I exhale deeply, feeling my heart crush from inside.

"You see, there is a monster living in me. And I.. I can't control it." Even though she can't hear me, saying the words out loud seems important to me.

"And I can't get rid of that monster. He lives in me. He is me. Do you understand?" I ask, glancing at her sleepy face.

My eyes drift down to her peaceful lull face, and stops at the barrier of her blanket.

A flurry of emotions courses through me, and I feel my heart thudding against my ribs as suddenly, every inch of me gets desperate to see the treasure.

She is sleeping. I shouldn't be touching her!

Yeah, I shouldn't.

I nod my head, as if understanding the morality of the situation my mind trying to tell me. But again, I am hardly in my mind ever.

Like a curious traveller, I slowly remove the sheets from her chest, that she is protecting in her sleep and let them slide down with curiosity pulsing through me.

I pause, and it feels as if my heart does too.

For a breathless second, I stare at the canvas of flesh that transcendes the reality. An artwork of nature more wondrous than any painting.

My hands further slide the sheets away from her body, revealing more of her flawless pearl white skin, that glows like a freshly painted painting.

I sit there entranced by the living canvas of curves and lines. The gentle curve of her shoulders, the rise and fall of her breathing chest, and the narrow lane of her waist which disappears under the blanket.

I gulp, my heart thunders as I allow myself to drink in every detail of her sleeping form. Each contour, each detail of her body is crafted with such precision that it seems unreal.

Emara is an art. No, a masterpiece.

A living, breathing artwork of human anatomy. And the longer I look, the deeper my obsession grows with her unfiltered beauty.

Wow!

I am so fucked!

I gulp as I see her perky breasts-

.

Due to explicit content, I can't upload the full chapter here on watt-pad.

As my book is already a big red flag, I do not want it to be more controversial. But congratulations to the 3 other readers, whom I am giving away this full chapter as reward.

Marshmallow_heartz , CherryCarterrr , Jana_booklover

Thank you so much for supporting me and not giving upon me ;) it means a lot to me ♥️

Hardly 15 more chapters are remaining to complete, and so does this 7 Night journey with Mr. Black.

Hit 👇⭐️