The Devil Tainted Us (A Gothic, Age Gap and Forbidden Romance)

I tap my index finger on my opposite arm as I rest my back against the check-up bed. My eyes glance at the door as I keep waiting for Agatha to arrive. My nerves rush with impatience.

I know she isn’t going to come here that easily but I still want to give her a chance. Seems like it isn’t worth it. Feeling my last thread of patience slipping away, I walk out of the check-up room in search of my little temptress.

When I reach her floor, I notice she is just entering her room, but the way her shoulders are hunching down tells me something is suspicious.

Frowning, I halt and wait for her to close the door.

I lean my ear against the wood but there is no sound coming, but when I heard a light scraping sound everything within me tightened in alert as I burst inside the room.

“Dear God!” she yelps from my sudden presence, leaning against the window side. The subtle movement of her hiding something behind her doesn’t go unnoticed from my gaze. I stride forward until I’m standing like a tower in front of her.

“What are you hiding?” I ask in an authorizing tone.

She simply shakes her head, not uttering her response as if she knows she will get caught by me through her words.

“I asked you something, Agatha, so you better answer me before I make you.”

Instead of having fear paint on her face, there is bravery and strength shrouding her, and those make her look so beautiful that it hurts. But I suppress those weakening emotions and give her a warning look.

She swallows, licking her lip which makes me want to lean down and lick it for her, tasting that sweet flavor I haven’t forgotten since that night.

“It’s nothing. Why the hell are you here?” She accuses me in return. “My chores are done for the day.”

“Don’t play games with me, little girl. You wouldn’t like the consequences at all. So, don’t make me repeat myself.”

She still remains quiet, testing my patience even more.

In the next second, I grab her arm and pull her up in order to see what she is hiding. She yelps and thrashes against my hold. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

I expect to find something that she might use against me but what I see makes me pause my motions. It is a rose with its stem somehow balancing in one of the cups used in the cafeteria for drinking. The rose seems to be withering and probably will die soon in a few weeks, perhaps days.

“Why is this here? And how did you get the cup to your room?” I ask, facing her.

She casts a nervous glance at me before answering. “I found it yesterday when cleaning the area around the gate. I thought it deserves a chance to live a bit more, perhaps it could blossom soon if given the right care. And after lunch I hid the cup inside my pocket.”

This time I turn silent, unable to think of the right words to respond.

“What are you waiting for? Go ahead,” she mutters with a shrug, crossing her arms.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s clear from your silence you don’t want me to keep this rose in my room, just because I want at least a small source of life in my room. So, go ahead and throw it away.” Placing the rose on my hand, she walks towards the bed and sits down, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress.

I look back at the rose feeling this sudden ache in my heart that I haven’t felt for a long time. Leaning my hand forward, I lightly touch it, caressing the rough and oval ends of the petal between my thumb and forefinger.

“It needs more than water. You will need some soil,” I state, not turning to gaze at her.

“I don’t have a pot and I couldn’t find it around.”

“I have a jar in my room. You can use that and fill it with the essentials this rose needs.”

“Why are you doing this?”

I meet her questioning gaze like she is going through a rough time to figure me out. It’s futile but she is still trying.

“I don’t need to justify anything to you.”

She scowls. “I just wanted to know why you are showing interest in a flower.”

You don’t want to know, little girl. I almost say it.

“You are getting what you want, so, stop questioning about it and be thankful, little girl.”

She presses her lips together and nods. “Thank you. I actually appreciate it.”

“Why aren’t you in the check-up room?”

She starts to fidget again with her dress, looking worried and nervous to mutter her words. I walk towards her direction and stand in front of her before sitting on the bed, tucking her hair back that she is using as a curtain to hide behind.

“You hate check-up rooms, that is no surprise there. But why?”

She gulps with her breathing turning slightly shallow and raw. Copper her cheeks, I can feel her nerves pulsing faster underneath my touch. This truly bothers her deep down.

“How will I fix it if you don’t tell me, Agatha?”

“I don’t need you to fix anything.”

“I’m your doctor, so it is my job to fix your problems. You can tell me.”

She lets out a humorless chuckle and shakes her head. “You won’t believe me. Nobody ever does.”

I skate my hand lower and cup her cheek, urging her to look at me. “I will believe you.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you have nothing to lie about to a stranger. And your eyes will reveal it all to me, they are a mirror to your soul, telling me the truth I need to know.”

Agatha remains quiet, trying to steady her breathing with astonishment painting her face. But it’s also clear that she is struggling to find her words…to reveal the truth about her fear. Without a second thought, I dip down my head, pressing my forehead against hers and take steady breaths along with her.

“Close your eyes. Pretend you are disclosing your secret in a dark room. Nobody but you.” She closes her eyes.

“Deep breaths, Agatha. Deep breaths.” She does as told while I continue trying to sooth her with my touch.

“Tell me your fear, Agatha. Share it with me,” I rasp.

“Tristen took me to the hospital where I was before. The doctors there were normally doing the check-ups but then…” her words fade away as she pauses for a moment.

“One of the doctors injected me with something during a check-up. I don’t know what happened but I just froze. I couldn’t feel my body…every nerve within me felt motionless. He then slid my gown up…h-he,” her voice starts to shake but she still gathers her courage to finish her words.

“He started to touch me between my…he then started to stroke himself right beside me.”

I open my eyes and see hers closed with tears streaming down her. Every drop that falls, feels like a poison being poured on my heart, burning every nerve as if it’s on fire and turning into ash.

“He had this devilish look in his face and it truly felt like a monster was in front of me, ripping me away from my own self with his sins…making me feel tainted inside out.”

She lets out a shaky breath. “It felt like forever. I kept praying that the nightmare would end and I would get the hell out of there. But I was wrong…Tristen didn’t listen to me and kept me there while I went through that horrific time several times. But when I attacked the doctor when I had control over my senses, only then he stopped. But I kept fighting him at every turn because I didn’t trust him and what he might do. So, I would get whatever I could find nearby me and hit him until he bled.”

She licks her lips, not caring it’s now coats with her tears. “Every time I even hear about going to the check-up room, I would remember that gut wrenching moment, feeling helpless all over again,” she shrugs with a sad smile, “-and there is my truth. My secret…a secret that no one believes because everyone thinks I’m insane. I can’t be trusted.”

“Look at me, Agatha,” I whisper. The minute she does and I see the deep, dark pain she has been hiding in her eyes, I just know she isn’t lying. It’s all real.

The mere sight makes me want to take her pain. Not just this but every bit…every ounce of suffering she has been through because no matter what she has done, she didn’t deserve that.

Nobody deserves that.

“What you have been through is the worse torture than death itself. You certainly didn’t deserve it. But you know what I saw when you told me your truth?”

She shakes her head. “What?”

“A strong and brave soul. A woman who will rise up more powerful no matter how many nightmares she goes through. I have seen women who have been through horrific scenarios. Many remain silent and hide in the shadows, some even give up on their lives and quit. But not you. Your strength is your weapon and shield.”

Her eyes glimmer with fresh tears.

“I believe your words because I see that agony in your eyes living deep down in your soul. It may have tainted you but it didn’t kill your spirit. Nothing can.”

“Nobody has ever said those to me.”

“Because they are too blinded by lies that they don’t see the reality in front of their eyes. That’s the world we live in. And as for your check-up, I give you my word, I won’t do anything that will make you feel helpless and bound.”

She keeps staring at me, searching for the promise my words hold, and when she sees it, she eventually relaxes and nods.

“I have your word?”

“You have my word.”

* * *

She is nervous for sure, but she gives it all to hide her emotions. But I keep the door open, letting her know she can leave anytime she wants and I won’t stop her. The memories triggered her panic attack where she knew she couldn’t escape. But this time she has that option.

I check her blood pressure and temperature, making sure she has no side effects from the medications she is taking. She keeps toying with the loose thread from her dress, something she does whenever she is worried about something.

I lightly pull down the skin beneath her eyes to see the blood circulation, which is at normal level, but the dark circles tell me she isn’t getting enough sleep.

I jot down at the necessary information in my black, leather notebook.

“Everything so far seems normal but you aren’t sleeping properly. Why is that?”

She shrugs, casting her eyes down. “I have been having these weird dreams and it’s so quiet here that it sometimes scares me.”

I cross my arms and nod. “By any chance you feel nauseous or have a headache whenever you go to sleep?”

She shakes her head in response.

Strange but I also remind myself of the times I caught her at night outside of her bedroom, screaming and crying for help. “What about the times I found you in the corridor or balcony? How do you explain that?”

“I can only think of sleepwalking but I never had that.”

“It doesn’t seem to be that case, sleepwalking has different symptoms.” Letting out a sigh and grab my notebook again to write down. “I will get you some sleeping pills, might help you to sleep better.”

She remains quiet as I feel her gaze on me.

“What?” I ask, continuing to write.

“Just curious about you…”

“What about me?”

“Did you always wanted to be a doctor?” she asks, curiosity oozing in her tone.

“No. My parents wanted me to be a well-known doctor and so I studied in medical science in Vailburg.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven.”

Her eyebrows arch up in surprise. Yes, I’m eighteen years older than you, little girl.

“Where are your parents?”

“That is none of your business. And never ask that question again.” Instant annoyance claws me making me snap the notebook shut and nodding towards the door for her to leave. “Your check-up is done. You may leave.”

Confusion dawns on her face but she gets the hint from my tone as she gets off the bed, stalking towards the door but pausing at the doorway. “Just like you trusted my truth, you can trust me with yours.”

I pretend I didn’t hear her, turning my back at her and going through some papers on the table. She waits for a moment but when she realizes I’m not going to budge, she finally leaves me alone. I let out a deep breath, relaxing my nerves and closing my eyes.

After what Agatha confessed to me earlier, I begin to see her in a different light. I see her in a way I’ve never seen a woman before. I know she is strong and determined, but I had no clue she is a warrior, protecting and fighting for herself through these nightmares. It makes me want to know who the doctor is so that I could fucking cut him into pieces and throw him in the sewer, where he belongs.

Maybe I will do that.

But at the moment, I try to focus on my task, though it’s turning out to be difficult with Agatha filling my thoughts. Something about her reports start to nag me…like something is wrong. It’s clear by the doctors’ statements that she is mentally ill and usually harms herself and others. But so far, she has acted upon harming people in order to protect herself. She has her reasons and that’s not an illness.

The brother-in-law is hiding something for sure, and there is only one way to find out the answers to my questions.