Mercy--A Dark Erotica

Pain made me. Broke me. Rebuilt me wrong.
I walk like a man, but there’s a monster under my skin—and I let him out when it suits me.

Then she showed up.
Mercy.
Gentle name. Soft touch. But none of it matches the fire behind her eyes.
She don’t run from the dark. She stares it down. Dares it to move.

I thought I’d use her.
Bend her warmth into a weapon.
Feed my hunger with her hope.

But she didn’t break.
She danced.

Every time I pull, she pushes. Every time I try to burn her, she comes back brighter.
It’s not love.
Not safety.
It’s a game of nerve, of fire, of edges neither of us can stop chasing.

One of us will fall.
Might be her.
Might be me.
But it sure as hell won’t be clean.