My Savior Was My Monster

I suffered from severe pyrophobia and haphephobia.

My fianc, a top psychologist, spent three years of gentle patience, pulling me back from hell.

I thought he was my savior and decided to say yes to his hundredth proposal.

But on the day I was trying on my wedding dress, I accidentally pushed open the secret door in his study, disguised as a bookshelf.

Behind a one-way mirror, the walls were covered with photos of my agonizing struggles, along with an experimental report about to be published.

And he was holding another heavily pregnant woman in his arms, his voice chilling: "She's just a lab rat for me to overcome academic challenges. With one more severe fire stimulus, my data will be perfect."

In that moment, my world turned to ice. Later, I died in that fire as he wished, but he went completely insane.

A cold dread washed over me, my blood freezing in my veins.

Through a one-way mirror, I watched Julian Vance, my fianc of three years, gently caressing another woman's swollen pregnant belly.

"Julian, I'm pregnant." The woman cooed, her voice full of possessiveness. "When are you going to get rid of that crazy woman?"

Julian. My treating therapist. My fianc.

The man who had spent three sleepless years proposing to me ninety-nine times, all to cure my pyrophobia and touch aversion.

Now, his face bore a coldness and calculation I'd never seen before.

"Scarlett, don't be childish." He lowered his head and kissed her forehead. "You know, Ember is just an extremely valuable research subject to me."

"My new desensitization therapy is at a critical stage. All I need to do is put her in a simulated fire chamber next week, get her final physiological data under extreme fear, and my research will win an international award."

"Then, we'll get married."

Every word was a knife twisting in my heart.

I covered my mouth, biting hard into the back of my hand, desperate not to make a sound.

The taste of rust spread in my mouth.

Just ten minutes ago, I was preparing for his hundredth proposal, joyfully looking for his tie in his study.

But I accidentally triggered a mechanism on the bookshelf.

This secret room, hidden behind the study, felt like a massive mockery.

The walls were plastered with photos of me convulsing in agony during my episodes, annotated with meticulous data: heart rate, blood pressure, fear index.

It turned out that every gentle embrace, every patient reassurance, even every proposal. None of it was out of love.

It was all to test the obedience of a lab rat.

I stumbled backward, knocking over a nearby chair.

A muffled thud.

Julian, on the other side of the glass, suddenly looked up, his gaze shooting towards the wall like a blade.

"Who's in there?"

The secret door was violently pushed open.

Julian stood silhouetted against the light in the doorway. When he saw it was me, a flicker of panic darted in his eyes.

But it was only for an instant, before his usual aloof, cold demeanor returned.

Scarlett followed behind him. Seeing my disheveled state, she covered her mouth and let out a laugh.

"Oh dear, the lab rat escaped."

I ignored her, just stared intensely into Julian's eyes, my body trembling uncontrollably.

"Three years..." I heard my own cracked voice. "Julian, these past three years, you were lying to me the entire time?"

Julian stepped forward, instinctively reaching out to touch me.

"Ember, calm down. You're very unstable right now, this isn't good for your condition."

"Don't touch me!"

I screamed, violently swatting his hand away.

My severe haphephobia immediately flared up. The spot he touched felt like it was crawling with a thousand ants, and my stomach churned violently.

Gagging, I collapsed to the floor.

Julian frowned, looking down at me, his tone finally dropping all pretense.

"Since you've heard everything, there's no need for me to keep up the act."

He adjusted his tie, his eyes cold and dismissive. "Ember, you need to face reality. You're a patient with severe psychological issues. Without me, you'd be lost in the darkness by now."

"I gave you three years of normal life. You cooperate with me to complete the final data collection, we both get what we want. It's fair."

Fair?

I looked up at this man I once worshipped, and laughed until tears streamed down my face.

He pulled me out of one abyss, only to push me into an even deeper hell.

Scarlett stepped forward, her high heel crunching on my skirt.

"Why waste words on a lunatic?" She looked at me scornfully. "If it weren't for Julian's academic standing, do you think you'd be living in this mansion? Just finish the experiment and get out of my sight."

I bit my lip hard, staring at Julian: "What if I don't cooperate?"

Julian crouched down, his long, slender fingers gripping my chin, his eyes sinister.

"Ember, you don't have the right to refuse. In your current mental state, all it takes is one word from me to have you forcefully admitted to a high-security psychiatric facility."

"You'd better be obedient."

I was imprisoned.

Julian confiscated my phone and locked the mansion's gates.

He was no longer the gentle and empathetic therapist. After shedding his mask, he became a cold-blooded dictator.

Over the next few days, he began to forcibly reduce my anti-anxiety medication.

He was forcing me into an episode.

Without the suppression of the medication, those deep-buried fears surged back like a tide.

Night after night, I had nightmares, dreaming of the fire that took my parents, dreaming of flames licking my skin.

I started frantically scratching myself until my arms were bleeding profusely.

Every time I had an episode, Julian would stand behind the one-way mirror, coldly recording data.

"Heart rate 140, pupils dilated, self-harming tendencies observed..."

His voice came through the loudspeaker into the room, cold and mechanical.

I lay on the floor, looking at the blurry silhouette in the glass. The love in my heart was slowly crushed, turning into bone-deep hatred.

On the fourth day, Scarlett came.

She stood before me, her pregnant belly prominent, holding a cup of hot coffee.

"Tsk, tsk, how pathetic." She looked down at me. "Julian says your threshold is almost reached. Tomorrow, he'll activate the simulated fire chamber."

At the words "fire chamber," my whole body jolted.

That was my Achilles' heel.

Scarlett seemed pleased with my reaction. She deliberately tilted the hot coffee in her hand.

Scalding liquid splashed onto the back of my hand.

"Ah--!"

I screamed in pain, not just from the burn, but because the heat awakened memories of being scorched by flames.

Curled up in the corner like a madwoman, I screamed and trembled.

Scarlett laughed loudly and left.

The moment the door closed, I stopped screaming.

I slowly looked up, staring at the red swelling on the back of my hand, my eyes utterly lifeless.

My tears had dried up.

I couldn't just sit there and wait to die.

If I entered the simulated fire chamber tomorrow, I would completely lose my mind, becoming his perfect experimental data.

I had to escape.

Even if I died, I would die outside these walls.

The next day, Julian entered the room.

He looked at the burn on the back of my hand, frowned almost imperceptibly, but quickly, coldness replaced it.

"Ember, this is the last time." His voice even carried a twisted gentleness. "Just get through today, and you can finally be free."

I leaned against the wall, motionless like a broken rag doll, devoid of a soul.

Julian didn't care about my lifeless state. He waved his hand, and two bodyguards walked in, forcibly manhandling me to my feet.

I was dragged into a completely sealed chamber.

Huge LED screens surrounded me, and the pungent smell of burning permeated the air.

"Let me go... Please, Julian, don't..."

I struggled violently, tears streaming down my face.

I wasn't faking it; I was genuinely terrified. That bone-deep fear made it almost impossible to breathe.

Julian stood in front of the control panel, his eyes feverish.

"Begin."

With his command, the screens around me instantly burst into blazing flames.

Heaters hidden in the walls whirred furiously, and the room temperature rapidly rose.

"Boom--!"

Realistic sound effects exploded in my ears, as if the whole building was burning.

"Ah--!!!"

I screamed shrilly, clutching my head with both hands, desperately shrinking into a corner.

"Help me! Help me! Dad! Mom!"

I fell into extreme hallucinations, the firelight before my eyes turning into the sea of fire that had consumed everything that day.

Julian's voice came from above, laced with a trembling excitement: "Yes, exactly! Fear index at its peak! Heart rate over 160!"

I rolled on the floor in agony, my nails digging deep into the floor, my fingers bleeding profusely.

Extreme fear and the high temperature gradually made me lose consciousness.

The second before falling completely into darkness, I looked at the surveillance camera, a chilling curve on my lips.

Julian, you want data? I'll give it to you.

But this is the last time you'll control me.