“Swallow.”
My eyes fly open as bile rises in my throat, and a growl rumbles through my chest. The fuckers tied me up again.
I’m strapped to my bed, with thick black straps around my chest, as well as my wrists. My heart pounds, as I shut my eyes tight to close out the darkness of the room.
“One hundred. Ninety-Nine.”
My breathing gets heavier as my pulse pounds in my eardrums.
“Ninety-Eight. Ninety-Seven.”
Come on, Raven. Fucking focus. You’ve done this before, and you can do it again, and then these fuckers are going to pay for this. And I’m going to find my little Lunatic. If she’s still alive.
“Ninety-Six. Ninety-Five.”
I wriggle around, trying to get out of the wrist restraints, but I can’t. I would have liked to have simply slipped out of them, but this is not like the other times they’ve done this. It’s a thick fabric, and my only option is to break it, which, unfortunately, will take time.
After getting my right hand free, I’m able to remove the strap on my left, and then quickly work on removing the chest strap. I don’t know how long it’s been since I was drugged and restrained, so it might not be long before someone comes in. It was a bold fucking move for Alexsander to have them do this to me, after what happened last time. It’s a choice he’s going to pay dearly for. And if Bianca is dead, he’s going to fucking suffer.
Rising off the bed, I move it to find my stash hidden under a broken tile. I knew this day would come, although the actual how was certainly a surprise.
ONE WEEK LATER…
I’m tired and hungry. My body is weak and shaky. Sometimes the dizziness is so intense I can’t even sit up. As bad as it is physically, it’s my mind that’s taking the biggest toll on me. This room is making me crazy. I’ve started talking to myself, which can’t be healthy. There’s no neighbor to talk to through the vent. I’ve never been this lonely before in my life. Isolation doesstrange things to your mental health. I’ve struggled with mild depression since the day I got married, but never anything like this. I’m not only losing my grip, but my will to survive.
I sit on the floor, watching a cockroach crawl across the floor, likely searching for food.
“You won’t find anything here, buddy. I haven’t eaten in days.”
She doesn’t respond, even though I wish she would.
“I should give you a name, right? How about Marie? You look like a Marie to me.”
Placing my hand on the floor in front of me, she crawls onto my palm and I welcome it. The old me would’ve screeched and ran. Now, she is like a glimmer of light in a dark world.
“The worst thing isn’t the abuse. I’m used to that, anyway. It’s not eating, and not having any human contact besideshim. I think I might be going insane, Marie. It kind of helps having you here though. Is that why you came into my room? You knew I needed you.”
Laying my hand back down on the floor, she crawls across my fingers, and goes back to the filthy tile.
“Heather said we’d get out of here one day, but I don’t think I’ll make it that long. I’ve heard that humans can live without food for three weeks. That’s not very long, and I imagine it could be more or less time.”
I hearhisfeet hitting the tile in the hallway.
“I need you to hide, okay? If I lose you right now-”
I take in a shaky breath.
“I don’t think I’d survive.”
When the footsteps stop, I don’t dare to look, because I know he’s there. His stare is like a crushing weight on my chest, threatening to bury me alive. It’s the kind of look you can feel bone deep, the type that would make you walk across the street to avoid a man like this. Except for me, there’s no street to cross,and there’s no avoidance. This is my life now. I’m locked up in here for him to hurt repeatedly. I should be grateful that Raven isn’t here as well, but I’m not. He is the lesser of two evils. Of the two of these sadistic men, he’s the least likely to end my life. Raven practically tried to drown me, and I’d still prefer him over Dr. Martin. As terrifying as that was, I’d take it over whatever is about to happen. The one guarantee the man in front of me offers is torment. Physical and mental. If I’m honest with myself I enjoyed my last time with Raven, until the doctor came in. Raven offers pleasure with pain, whether I consent or not. This man only gives pain. Agony, mixed with the purest form of self hatred, every time I let him touch me. His fingers on my skin cause the perpetual knot in my stomach to grow. It’s not self hatred, but absolute loathing. I try to tell myself I didn’t have a choice, and I don’t, but I can’t stop feeling this way. Even after he leaves, the disgust I have for myself remains.
The sound of the cell door opening is deafening, like metal crashing against metal, and every muscle in my body freezes with trepidation. Dr. Martin doesn’t say a word. Walking over to me, he undoes his pants, and whips his dick out.
“Mouth open,” he orders, and as usual I do exactly as I am told.
I assume he’s going to fuck my mouth, and choke when he starts pissing in my mouth. Grabbing my hair, he holds my head still.
“Swallow it. Now. You must be awfully thirsty.”
