Careless(33)

For an awful moment my arms are yanked painfully back, and then my jacket’s ripped from my body. My ass hits the floor hard as I’m shoved down.

I keep hitting, kicking and growling like a possessed person. Dread has taken over every part of me. In this terror induced state there’s only one thought – survival. I have to survive this somehow.

I always thought fear was cold. I always described it as cold. I was so wrong, so very wrong.

Fear makes your mind terrifyingly crystal clear. It’s so you can take in every little thing that’s happening around you. Your body runs purely on adrenaline with not a drop of blood pumping through your veins.

I hear the material of their clothes crunch as they move around me.

I feel the air shift as Henry pulls back his arm. I swear my skin stretches thin over my face as I wait for the blow to come.

The not knowing makes it so much worse.

Fear makes pain worse.

Fear makes time stand still.

Fear turns people into monsters and every sound into a warning of what may come.

A fist slams hard into my cheek and my neck whips back from the force. I scream and it sounds desperate to my own ears. Pain engulfs the whole left side of my face, making it pulse with a heartbeat of its own.

Then Henry’s horrid voice ripples through the dark. “Get the shirt off!” The growl comes in raspy breaths.

I try to crawl away but they are so much faster than me. Steven moves behind me and bile burns up my throat. I wish I could vomit all over them. Maybe then they’ll stop.

But I don’t vomit and my body convulses the second Steven takes hold of me.

I can’t just let them beat me!

Shit, what if they rape me?

Oh, God! I won’t survive it. Just the thought of one of these fuckers bringing his dick near me, is enough to make me turn into a wild beast.

I try to swing my elbow into Steven. The movement throws me off balance and I fall to the side, swinging at nothing but the stuffy air.

Steven grabs hold of my shirt and then he yanks it up against my neck. For a blinding moment it tightens horribly around my neck, cutting off my air supply. He yanks again and the force snaps my head back. The material bites at my skin and then it’s gone. Clammy air sticks to my torso and I feel horribly exposed.

“No! Fuck you! No!” I scream until my throat burns.

“Grab her arms,” Henry growls. I see the coal of the cigarette burn red and it lights up Henry’s face. Fuck, he looks evil – like the devil himself.

“Let me go!” I shriek. I start to thrash and kick, trying to worm myself out of this impossible situation.

Henry places a knee over my thighs and his left hand comes down hard over my breasts. He forces me back to the floor and then he kills the cigarette against my side. The burn is intense but nothing compared to the fear of not knowing what they are going to do next.

He flicks the cigarette away and then his fist comes at me. The blow makes my eyes bulge with pain and the world starts to spin. A coppery taste explodes in my mouth, making my throat burn with bile.

The next blow feels like he’s trying to rip a hole through my face. The third punch makes the bright light fade, and pain takes over until it feels like even my teeth are aching.

I give up fighting and my body goes slack. Blood floods my mouth, dribbling out the side and down my aching jaw. The last memory I have is a sharp pain in my chest as his foot connects with my ribs.

∞∞∞

The dark is killing me slowly. The blinding light scares me even more. I know it’s been four days. It doesn’t sound like much, but they make a recording once a day for Uncle Tom. I don’t think Uncle Tom is going to help me this time. I haven’t spoken to him in years. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s alive.

Every day, Mr. Attridge adds five minutes to the beating. Yesterday, the twenty-five minutes felt like twenty-five years. I thought it would never end.

I’m dreading today! Every sound makes me jump with fear.

Every day, they remove an item of clothing. On day two, it was my sneakers, day three my socks, day four my jeans. They keep taking my clothes away, leaving me with less and less of myself.

I shiver constantly and I don’t know if it’s from the cold or fear. I only have two items of clothing left.

Day one I was still in shock. I didn’t eat when the old man brought food. Day two I forced myself to move. I pushed through the pain after they were done kicking and hitting me, and I ate. It was a struggle to keep it down.

Day three was worse, and yesterday I couldn’t keep the food in at all. I think I have a broken rib or two. My right hip hurts the most, as if someone is constantly shoving a fist into my side.

The tiny space reeks of vomit and blood. It smells like death.

The old man never looks at me. He just puts down the food and water and then he leaves in a hurry. I was playing with the idea of trying to overpower him, but I can’t even stand on my own two feet for long, never mind fight a man.

I hear the chain rattle outside and I press harder into the corner, so hard my body screams with pain. I know it doesn’t help, but it’s instinct. A low growl builds deep in my throat and I sound like an animal, nothing more than a beaten dog.

When Steven comes in alone, I frown. He hasn’t taken part in any of the actual beatings. He only holds me down.

I watch him set up the camera on a tripod and then he presses record and the blinding light falls on me.

“So now you’re going to beat me? You finally grew a pair of balls, asshole?” I snap at him, angry that I’ve let the monster touch me.

“No, Henry does the beating,” he says calmly. Way too calm for my liking.

He fiddles with his belt and my mouth drops open. I shake my head and struggle to my feet. “I’m not letting you fuck me.”

“Come on, babe. It will be like old times.”

He unbuttons his jeans and then drags the zip down exposing his boxers.

A fresh wave of adrenaline surges through me and I make a run for the door. I don’t even make it halfway when I’m taken down. My body slams hard into the floor, face down, and I scream from the pain tearing through me.

Before I can push myself up, Steven grabs hold of my thighs, dragging me back. I claw at the ground like a feral animal, trying to get some sort of grip so I can pull myself away from him.

Steven crawls over me, pressing me harder into the steel with his full weight.

“Get off me!” I try to elbow him, but he yanks my right hand away, pinning it to the filthy ground. He uses his knees to spread my legs wider and I try to kick back. I try to use my whole body to throw him off so I can get up.

“No!” For a desperate moment I resort to begging. “Please don’t.”

I try to fight back, but lying on my stomach makes most of my attempts useless. My lungs are on fire from my panicked breaths. Anger flares through me and I scream to let some of the hopelessness out.

He doesn’t even bother removing my panties. I feel his dick press against my ass and a wave of disgust makes bile burn its way up my throat.

His fingers shove the flimsy cotton to the side. “No!” I scream as I feel his dick ram against my entrance, but all my struggling and protesting only seems to excite him more. He keeps ramming against me as he struggles to get his dick in while holding me down. I try to clench my legs together but his knees jar my attempts.

He enters me violently on a grunt and I can’t hold back the inconsolable and horrified screams.

“No.” It’s the only word my brain can come up with in this moment of absolute depravity. Sharp burns tear through me.

“Don’t worry, babe,” he grunts breathlessly. “I’ll be quick. You won’t remember this for long.” He keeps thrusting into me, each thrust a scorching stab. I feel exposed and debased. “Tomorrow, Henry gets to shoot your brains out,” he grunts again as his body jerks faster against me. He comes hard, his body shuddering against mine, as if my impending death is the biggest turn on for him. “You didn’t think you were going to live, did you?” I feel his clammy breath on my ear and then he whispers, “But first we all get to have a bit of fun with you. You’ll be begging Henry to put a bullet right between your eyes by the time we’ve fucked you raw.”

He grabs a chunk of my hair and yanks me from the floor as he gets ups. I feel the stickiness of his cum dribble down the insides of my thighs, and somehow that makes it all so much worse. I feel filthy and empty, like a piece of discarded trash.

He shoves me closer to the camera and then talks directly to the blinding light. “There’s nothing left of her, Tom. You should have given us the money when we asked.”

He shoves me to the side and I fall hard to my knees. I don’t even bother getting up but instead curl into a fetal position.

I don’t notice him leaving. I don’t notice anything but the wetness between my legs that makes me sick to the pit of my stomach.

Emptiness stretches and grows inside of me, consuming every part that makes me human.

My mind is quiet for the first time, as if it’s switched off.

I’m not thinking of ways to escape.

I’m not thinking of ways to hurt them back.

I’m just not thinking.

What’s the use of thinking? I’m already dead.

They killed my will to live.





CHAPTER THREE



CARA



“Girlie!” The whisper comes from the old man. He’s standing right outside the door. It’s too early for him to bring me food.