Dinner Guest Part: 9 Remains
What’s left of you is finally mine. Part 9: The Table as Altar They retreated like gods—upstairs, into
A serialized ritual. Ten steps. One outcome. This is the long descent—where curiosity becomes craving and craving becomes permanence. You don’t read the Solemark. You submit to it. And once her imprint lands, you’ll stop asking questions. Because now you belong to a story that doesn’t need your voice.
What’s left of you is finally mine. Part 9: The Table as Altar They retreated like gods—upstairs, into
Let every step leave something behind. Part 8: The Table as Altar The silence that followed her departure was not
Silence is what’s left after the breaking. Part 7: The Table as Altar He heard the steps before he
Is cruelty really lighter when you don't wear heels? Part 6: The Table as Altar He lay still.
Chains are quieter than questions. Part 5: The Table as Altar Each pair mocked him in a different key. Some
The tongue remembers what pride forgets... Part 4: The Table as Altar His lips hovered just above the woman'
Feast on the filth. And call it privilege. Part 3: The Table as Altar The living room glowed with the
He was the rug now. Or worse... Part 1: The Table as Altar The dining room glowed with curated elegance—