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Freefall. Elvein felt Demian's hands catching her, hugging her tightly. Then, the air was sucked from her lungs, and they whirled in transgression. They stood on the rock surrounded by the fierce water element. If she had any feelings left, she would have known that she was freezing, shivering violently. Demian's caring hands tucked her into his thick, dark brown robe.

"Almost there." He lifted a wand, and a colossal basilisk lighted the sky. "Now, we will fly." Said Ekrizdis and hugged the girl's shivering body even tighter.

They did fly. Thousands of dementors rushed towards them. They collided with the glowing snake, and kept vanishing but were still coming and coming. Perhaps, they felt Elvein's desperation. If she had cared, she would have wondered: How did they fly without brooms or thestrals? Was it even possible to call for two Patronuses at the same time? Because already two snakes were twisting around them, illuminating and clearing their path.

A dark castle was erected from the night. Grotesque gargoyles approached them with the heavy step. Their glowing eyes studied Elvein, then cowered away from their strange master. Labyrinth walls surged till nine skies, obediently bowed and groveled in front of their owner.

"Welcome home, my love."

Elvein just followed wherever Demian took her. She did not care how many rooms and corridors were left behind. She just kept walking towards slow, dragged, and inevitable destruction.

Demian stopped only when they reached a vast room illuminated with a big fireplace. Flames were backlighting on dark green velvet-covered walls. Floor, the same as in the whole castle, black marble. There was a huge canopy bed, and the toilet-table was covered with a significant number of crystal bottles and boxes. At its side - a bathtub. Some distance - round table with two chairs. From the wardrobe's ajar door, expensive sinks could be seen. A vast chandelier descended from the ceiling. Flames illuminated in its crystals landed on two portraits hanging on opposite walls. One was Elvein's portrait, who held her sad gaze on the floor. Second - Demian himself, watching the girl's portrait with a possessed expression. Those two portraits expressed Elvein's life's whole tragedy so precisely; if she were capable, she would have laughed bitterly.

The whole room was constructed to look like a stage in front of a single French lounge chair. On its single handle, a bottle of Fire-Whiskey and a glass were patiently waiting for their master. That's what Elvein's life would be from now on - Theatre of Absurd for a single onlooker.

She heard wet clothes' heavy thud on marble. She could feel from her back, that Demian stood naked. His hands softly encircled her, starting to remove her clothes. First, a heavy robe was to land on the floor, followed by the rest of her articles of clothing. Last, the hairpin was to tinkle.

Demian descended both their bodies in hot water. Washing her gently, he whispered stories of their common past. She heard him talking but could not understand a single word. She was gone too deeply in herself.

After a bath, Ekrizdis sat her in front of the toilet table. Dressing her in a silk kimono, he brushed her till every single strand of her golden threads were dried. The empty frame of the girl just stared into the fire.

And the time came, that terrified Elvein the most. Silk was thrown into the air, and Demian put her body on the bed. The air was heavy with electricity. Its sparkles burned goosebumps on her pearly skin. She closed her eyes in the hope that the torture would end soon. She was mistaken.

Demian started with her fingertips, masterfully continuing his caress. Elvein believed that her hatred would serve as solid armor. Another mistake. Demian was not in a hurry, baring her every single nerve in torturous pleasure. She opened her eyes wide to once again see. He! He was her torturer, rival, prisoner, brander! It helped, but only for a minute. Demian was tireless. Every single time, starting a duel from the beginning, not taking his eyes off her, unmistakably recognizing her every attempt, answering destructively.

It became impossible to restrain her breasts from rising and falling faster and faster. A single, tiny moan escaped Elvein's lips, which inspired her opponent with new strength. She tore into her palms with her own fingernails. Demian did not miss this:

"No! I have never been defeated, ever. And what is my worth if I will lose this battle?!"

Both her palms were imprisoned in his single hand, while with the second one, he lifted her waist and possessed her.

No! - thought Elvein - He will not win this battle. She will not let him step on the shreds of her pride. She hung on to this thought while moaning from anger, pain, and.. and probably pleasure as well. She would have scratched her eyes out only if Demian did not possess her hands as well. She recalled every minute of pain, every second of desperation, experienced because of him. Minutes passed, drop by drop, the dam was feeling up, but her walls still stood.

Pain grooved Demian's face. A torturous groan escaped his blood-bitten lips. Crimson drops were rolling down his chin. She had never seen him like this, so the woman's hearth squeezed a single drop of compassion. That served as the last mistake. The dam has exploded, and billows carried her away. Her head falls back, her heart thuds faster, muscles shrunk into a traitorous spasm.

Beast chained in Demian's chest broke loose, roared, and threw both overleap...

The man's heavy body was crushing her. An orphan tear left her eye, as lonely as the thought in her head - Vanquished!