Maybe he leaned down and glanced in before he left because he realized he forgot to chain me up? But why wouldn’t he come back and clap the cuffs back on as he’s so fond of? Where is Kage, and why has he been gone so long?
Chewing my cheek, a new fear begins to tug at the fragile strings holding my sanity together. What would happen to me if something happened to Kage? He is my only lifeline. Thank fuck he forgot to really lock me up this time, but what about before? What if he left for work and got hit by a truck and died and I was stuck down here in those chains?
I have Poppy now, and I have running water, but food? I’d starve to death. And so would she. What a slow, tortuous way to go.
My ass burns and smarts, pulling me from hellish thoughts as I hiss in pain. He held nothing back last night, yet at the same time, I know in my bones he heldeverythingback. He easily could’ve fucked me against that tree, and my cunt weeps at the thought. I want more of him, more of his dominating brand of intimacy, and I hate myself for it.
Sighing, I roll gingerly onto my side and watch the bright, pumpkin-hued sunset cast long shadows on the wall. My anxietygrows the longer I wait to hear even a peep upstairs, and once darkness falls, I’m left alone and shivering in fright.
I debate climbing the steps to see if the door is unlocked. Maybe this is some form of a test? But I’m almost positive he locked it, just forgot the stupid chains. What if he really did die in some freak accident? How do I get out? I could easily break the window and fit through, and I know he keeps those hefty, metal tools down here somewhere.
Stuck between impossible thoughts and decisions, I fall back into a light sleep, promising myself that if he’s still not home come dawn, then I will bust out that window and run away with Poppy.
But I don’t get that chance, because something rips me from my slumber.
And it isn’t Kage.
The squeakingas the pane of glass is pried from the metal starts out soft, just barely entering my hazy, dream-like state. I’m not sure what has me rolling off the mattress and scurrying toward the laundry room before I’ve even fully awoken; I think my survival instincts seem to know that in all the months I’ve spent here, this is the first sound that is completely out of the norm. Without the reassurance that Kage is upstairs, the animal in me knows to flee and hide before I’ve even wiped the drool from my cheek.
By the time my brain has awakened, I’m shuffling blind through the darkness with my hands outstretched, attempting to find a place to hide as my heart leaps into my throat and all-consuming fear thumps through me like the beating of a war drum.
A pane of glass falls to the concrete and shatters, the intruder cursing and completely unfazed by the ostentatious sound. Clapping my hands over my trembling lips, I sink down against a cabinet, frozen in terror. It’s not Kage, because he’s never been able to speak that loudly before, and…and Kage is gone.
The one who decimated my life by kidnapping me is also the safest person I know right now, and I choke on a frightened sob when the sinking feeling hits my gut. Kage is gone. I’m alone, locked in this basement, and someone I don’t know is here in the darkness with me, lurking like a lion through the grass.
I close my eyes as though to shield myself from what I’m sure will be impending torture, but all I see is the clown mask flashing in my retinas, a vestige of trauma from the night Kage ripped me from my peaceful slumber in my safe, cozy bed. My breaths come in rapid bursts, and trying to calm them only heightens my need for more air as my chest caves inward with my panic attack.
And then, the monster in the darkness speaks, his words low and woven through with a dark, sinister chuckle. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. I just wanna play.”
My fingers dig into my cheeks so hard I’ll have bruises in death, because the voice of the man who’s down here with me is evil, and I know my torture won’t be quick. Tears spill from my eyes and wet my fingers. I’m not wearing any clothing from the waist down, my butt still aching from Kage’s punishment.
I know in my soul that what I’m about to endure will be far more painful and heinous than anything Kage would ever do to me, and I have to choke back a sob at the horrid truth of it all. In my darkest moments down here, I always begged for my parents.
Now, I’d do anything to have the man who took me down here, because I know Kage wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone who wants to hurt me.
A flashlight beam cleaves the night in two, illuminating enough of the room I’m in for me to see that it’s just a storage space for tools.
My eyes catch on that huge wrench, leaned up innocuously against the wall to my left. Glancing quickly back to the doorway, I make a quick move for the hefty chunk of metal, wrapping my fingers around the handle just as the beam hits me square in the face and momentarily blinds me. My panic overflows, my brain confused between past and present, forcing my body to freeze with indecision.
The wielder lowers the light, and his long, ugly face comes into view, a grin upon his thin lips, his teeth cartoonishly large as he grins maniacally down at me. He’s putrid, the stench wafting from him making me nauseous, as though he’s been living in the woods for weeks.
Fuck. The fingerprints on the window. The floorboard creaking upstairs. Maybe hehasbeen out there, circling like a vulture, waiting for the apex predator to leave so he could move in for whatever scraps remain. I have to choke down the bile forcing its way up my throat, because there’s something intimately horrifying when you discover you’ve been hunted in such a way and for an unknown amount of time.
His balding head sports a layer of dirt, grime sticking to his sallow, gaunt cheeks, his skeleton a frame for his skin to hang limply upon. One hand grips the flashlight, and the other drops to the button on his jeans.
A whimper escapes me no matter how hard I try to stop it, and his vile grin doubles.
“Hopefully your cunt is still tight after that traitor had his fun with you. He did choose a pretty whore. Pity he left us. Should’ve known he’d never live in peace after that betrayal.”
His words are jagged knives to my heart, yet some of the meaning is lost on me, and at the moment, I could care less. My worst fears are about to come true, and I know my odds against this adversary are about as bad as they can be.
He steps closer, the descent of his zipper as loud in my ears as gunfire. I scuttle back, dragging the wrench with me to the sound of his gritty, phlegmy laughter.
“Be thankful it’s me and not his brother, sweet little kitty. He’d rape you with his knives before his cock.”
His words sicken me, but my shoulders hit the cold, stone wall, and my muscles tense in preparation to fight.
But I’m not a fighter. I never have been. When Sam would practice his wrestling moves on me, I’d usually end up hurt and crying, running to the safety of my mom. I can’t do that here and now, and when he grips my ankle, my fingers let the cool metal slip between them. It crashes to the ground, the sound igniting something in me, and I kick out at his decrepit face, connecting with flesh and bone. His head whips to the side, and all goes utterly still and awfully quiet.
