Passion and madness

Night had fallen, enveloping the city in a blanket of darkness. I lay in the motel bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling as cold sweat beaded on my forehead.

I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was unable to resist her charms.

A soft knock on the door startled me. It was her, punctual as ever, eager to plunge into our spiral of forbidden passion.

I let her in, watching her silhouette slip into the room, a tantalising shadow in the gloom.

I understood her situation, her unhappiness in her marriage, the chains that imprisoned her. But I was also aware that it was a dangerous game between us, a tightrope dance that threatened to tear everything apart.

Her hands roamed my body desperately, searching for the warmth that was missing from her life. His kisses burned like red-hot irons, marking me as his.

And I, seized by a maddening desire, abandoned myself to his caresses, forgetting the consequences that lurked between us.

It was in the midst of that frenzy that I noticed something strange. A sinister gleam in his eyes, a crooked smile that did not bode well.

Before I could react, I felt the cold steel of a razor pressed against my throat.

-You can't leave me, -he whispered in a guttural voice.- You are mine, forever.

Terror paralysed me as the blade slid across my skin, tracing a crimson trail. Her eyes reflected an abysmal madness, a sick obsession that had been fuelled by our forbidden relationship.

I tried to reason with her, to plead for my life, but the words died in my throat. In that instant, I realised that I had been a fool to believe I could control the situation.

Now, I was trapped in the clutches of a woman consumed by passion and madness, willing to do anything not to lose me.

The razor plunged deeper, and a piercing scream tore through the night. A silent warning that some passions are best left unquenched.