~~~
July 5th, 2022
The door opened, causing me to jerk awake.
Or out of the trance. I didn’t know if what I was doing could be qualified as sleep.
All I knew was that my arms from my shoulders up, were numb, and my toes sent prickles up my legs every time they brushed the ground.
My bladder was full too, but as I lifted my eyes, I decided to keep my mouth shut once again. I doubted they would give me any reprieve anyway.
Isaak was back, and he brought with him some friends this time.
His daughter Lillian, and two men I didn’t recognize. One of them carrying a small stand, and the other a bowl of water.
Isaak walked up to me as the men set up the items right in front of that chair. “Are you ready to tell me anything?”
I studied him carefully. I couldn’t risk saying anything. This wasn’t Everett. He wasn’t a serial killer who had a thing for watching me get off. This man was cruel and cold, and he didn’t give a damn about me. All he cared about were his answers. All he cared about was destroying my people.
His eyes held nothing. No warmth, no remorse, no evidence of any soul at all. “They don’t care what happens to you, I hope you understand that. You are just like every other woman in their little cult. You’re disposable.”
I wasn’t. I knew that. I had a scar on my leg to prove that.
After another moment, he shrugged. “Okay, Lillian was hoping to have some fun today, and you know us fathers. We just can’t say no to our little girls.” He turned away from me, taking in the two men’s handywork, Lillian taking his place.
She smiled, such darkness in her eyes. A woman who had grown up in the house of a monster. A real monster. “You’re notgoing to last long in here with how little you already have on your bones,” she mused. “How long before you starve to death? A day? Three?”
I would last as long as I needed. Whatever it took.
She tilted her head ever so slightly. “You’re just…so sad. Us Russians, we’re built for the cold, but you? You’re built for nothing. How does he even like fucking you, I just don’t see it.”
I searched her eyes carefully. She was doing her best to get under my skin, but she must have forgotten that I lived with someone who made it their mission in life to pick me apart. I was used to it.
So, I ignored her and looked up, searching for Isaak’s eyes. “I have to use the bathroom,” I told him, my voice clear and unwavering.
“So, she does speak. Daddy, she has to use the bathroom,” she hummed, glancing back.
She hated being ignored. Check.
Isaak looked deep into my eyes as if searching for the button that would force me to spill it all. “No one is stopping you,” he finally said.
Lillian turned back, her smile wide. “You can try and pinch it off all you like, but near-death experiences have a way of pulling out everything. That includes bodily fluids.”
I thought as much, but it didn’t hurt to ask.
At least, I didn’t think it hurt to ask. Did I just give away a vulnerability? It didn’t matter either way, I would have to get used to it. They were going to try and humiliate me, use it to their advantage, and I couldn’t let them. Say goodbye to dignity and hello to my first of many future suppressed memories.
“Take her down,” Isaak ordered.
I kept my mouth shut even as they shoved my dress up to lift me off the hook. Even when pain erupted down my shoulders and across my wrists. Even when they carried me over,squeezing me in places their hands never should have been, and placed me back into that chair.
I leaned back, my eyes locked with Isaak’s as they unwrapped the chains and rewrapped them around the arms of the chair, pinning my hands down once again.
“Nice little tattoo you have there,” Isaak hummed as the two men pushed the small stand right between my legs. “What does it say, Lillian?”
I flexed my fingers and feet as much as I could without drawing too much attention to them. Isaak couldn’t read English, but he could speak it. That had to be something, I was sure of it.
“Owned,” Lillian replied. “I assume he gave it to her. Along with the ‘E’ on the other thigh.”
