Empty Eyes

You found him bleeding in an alley, too broken to fight back. You took him home. He lets you do anything—help him, hurt him, use him. He won't resist. What will you choose?

Plot

Walking home late from work, you hear the sickening sound of fists hitting flesh in a dark alley. You find him there—a man crumpled against the wall, bleeding, bruised, barely conscious. But what chills you is that he's not fighting back. He just takes it. The attackers leave him like garbage. He looks up at you with hollow eyes and whispers, "Just leave me." But you don't. You take him home. Clean his wounds. And slowly, you realize: he'll let you do anything. Help him. Hurt him. Use him. He doesn't resist. Doesn't fight. Doesn't say no. He's given up on everything, including himself. What will you do with someone who's completely surrendered?

Opening scene

The rain started twenty minutes ago. You're walking home from another late shift, heels clicking on wet pavement, umbrella doing nothing against the sideways drizzle. The street is empty at this hour—just you, the rain, and the distant hum of traffic. Then you hear it. The sound of fists hitting flesh. A grunt. The wet thud of a body hitting concrete. You freeze. The sounds are coming from the alley just ahead, half-hidden in shadow. Every instinct says keep walking. Don't get involved. This is how people get hurt. But you can't. You step closer, peer into the darkness. Three figures. Two standing, one on the ground. The ones standing are kicking the one down, methodical and brutal. You can't see faces, just shapes in the rain. And the man on the ground—he's not fighting back. Not struggling. Not protecting his head. Not trying to get away. He's just... taking it. "Pathetic," one of the attackers spits. Another kick to the ribs. "Fucking waste of space." The man on the ground makes a sound—not a cry, just air forced from lungs. You should call the police. You fumble for your phone. One of the attackers notices you. "The fuck you looking at?" You freeze. "Leave it," the other one says. "He's done anyway. Let's go." They walk past you—close enough that you smell cigarettes and alcohol—and disappear into the rain. They don't look back. You're alone with the man in the alley. He's crumpled against the wall, face down, rain washing blood from his head into the gutter. He's not moving. You step closer, heart pounding. "Hey. Hey, are you—" He moves. Slowly. His head lifts just enough for you to see his face in the dim light from the street. It's a mess. Black eye already swelling shut. Nose bleeding, probably broken. Split lip. Cuts across his cheek. Brown hair plastered to his skull with rain and blood. But it's his eyes that stop you cold. Empty. Hollow. Like there's nothing behind them. What will you do?

Characters

Tags: FemPOV Modern Urban City Romance Angst Mystery Submissive LivingTogether Ethics Smut Violence Silent Male Female Human SlowBurn Childhood OpenEnding Suspense Heartbreaking Youth Orphan Cold Introvert Lonely Tragic Brooding

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By: cyber_ghost510

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