All-too quickly, he was on top of me. “Mine! You’re never going to escape me. I knew you were just like me.” Like a psycho, he laughed, licking his lips. “Wherever I go, you’re coming with me!”
13. Little One
MAGDALENA
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
“Die!” I screamed, twisting my body in a fit of rage, inciting another laugh from him while he had me pinned down.
“Do you know what this does for me? It turns me on. You did exactly what I needed.” He laughed like the psycho he was, and I gawked, not understanding what he was talking about. “You killed them for me. Thank you so much. And now, I’m going to give you a taste of your own medicine.”
The knife burned, cutting through the middle of my dress at my midsection. My blood seeped out, wetting my skin and torn gown. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I winced, hissed, then bit my lips, trying to withstand the pain. Grabbing one of his fingers, I bent it until there was a crack.
“Fuck!” he screamed.
Then I turned on my side. His gaze landed on my hands, pressing my stomach, attempting to contain the blood. “You’re wearing his ring? Again? You lied to me? You said you were mine, but you’re wearing his fucking ring?” he screamed like amaniac while slicing through the air, sometimes tearing more of my dress and belly.
I backed away from under him, but he followed me, and his slicing became less powerful, less precise, only hitting air and dirt. Yet I was even more hurt, weaker from the fighting, the screaming. With me being unable to move fast enough, he pursued me again. A scream burst out of me by accident when he caught my ankle. I kicked at him, turning over to crawl away and hopefully stand and run.
“See, darling? We’re the same, and you’re going straight to hell with me.” I’d managed to twist and was about to stand when Mael gained space on me and climbed over my body. My belly was to the dirt. He pulled me by my hair, tilting my head back ’til I could see the sky, and pressed the knife to my throat. I had to lift my upper body from how hard he was yanking. My hair follicles screamed in pain, worsening the headache I’d been enduring. I couldn’t help but grimace. I was so thirsty, so drained, and tired beyond belief. The wound in my stomach bled even more in this stretched position.
“Aww. Yes. This feels so fucking good,” he drawled, rocking his hips and grinding his clothed dick against the valley of my ass.
No, not again. Not again.
Hell engulfed my mind. A million thoughts and emotions drowned me. To silence and maybe stop the panic, I screamed with all my might and devolved into weeping.
He laughed. “Now. You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, or I swear I’ll slice your throat.”
I shook my head even though I knew I didn’t have much of a choice. “Spread your legs.”
“I’d rather fucking die! That’s how disgustingyouare. I’ve never loved you. I love Killian. Only Killian! You motherfucker!” The point of the knife dug into my skin, and because I’d alwayskept it sharp, the metal burned as it opened a new spot on my throat, carving into me and slicing the tissue apart.
“Well… then, I guess I’ll die with my darling little whore.” He slammed my face into the dirt so I couldn’t breathe. I slapped at the earth, trying to smack his hands away and lift my head, but he wouldn’t let me. The knife moved to my nape, nicking my skin. After pushing my skirt away, his dick slid into my pussy.
“Oh, yes… Fuck yes! There she is, all fucking drenched for me like always. God, I still remember the day I first fucked you. Do you remember, darling? All the dick you took? All the cum you took in every hole? Best fucking show.” Mael lift my face from the dirt by my hair, allowing me to take my first full breath.
“Someday, I’ll have to thank your parents for putting you in that psych ward. Best year of my fucking life. Daddy said I had to lose my virginity, so I chose you. You’ve always been the lucky one. We were each other’s firsts. Romantic, isn’t it?” he recounted, fucking me while I fought him, but I couldn’t reach him. “You’re always so willing, so wet. I lost count of how many times you came. But don’t worry. We only did one abortion on you.” He pinned my face to the dirt again and continued fucking me like the animal he was. By the time he released my head, I was half gone.I didn’t have the strength to lift my arms.
For an eternity or three, I lay there taking him as he groaned and blabbered about what a good whore I was, using me. As he described every detail about our so-called first time together, short images and moments popped into my vision. There were hundreds of men in black business suits surrounding me. Faces everywhere. Screams from far away, calling me while I lay on a table. To get out of the memory which would become my reality, I had to scream as loud as possible until there was no air inside me. After, instead of that room full of men, I was back in the forest, only to realize I’d been raped countless times before. I’dblocked it. I’d blocked all of it. I wanted him to shut the fuck up so badly.
With every memory and penetration, I became more vacant, more insignificant, and felt like I deserved what was being done to me; I no longer fought him. I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I wasn’t really in my body, although I still felt every iota of pain he inflicted on me.
As if I’d stepped back into my body, everything came into sharp view. The knife was buried in the dirt, just a little out of reach. When had he put it there? How long had I been taking him when I could have been stabbing him? My gaze stayed glued to it, and as soon as I heard a thumping sound and felt his weight lift a little from my back, I grabbed it. Before I realized what had happened, I was stabbing him in the stomach, arms, face—everywhere within reach without thinking. “Shut uuuuuupppppppp!” I pierced him over and over again while screeching, trying to flush out the hell he’d brought to every corner of my body and mind.
“Shut upppppp! Shut the fuck up!”
I tried to scream out my rage and fear as I stabbed him over and over again until I had no choice but to pause because I was getting dizzy and starting to see stars. I took take a long breath in but it wasn’t enough and while taking in the two next ones, the rage catapulted back into me. His body collapsed on the ground.No! How could he be dead already? No!I wanted to kill him again. He hadn’t been killed enough. I squeezed the hilt of the knife with both hands, kneeling over him, and speared him in the eye while still screaming despite my sore throat.
He hadn’t been lying about the psych ward. I’d had nightmares about that place, but I always thought or wished they were just that. I hadn’t realized until then that they were memories attempting to escape the dungeon they’d been lockedin. For some time, I sat there gouging his eye, staring off into the forest.
Only when my arms became exhausted and ached did I realize I was violently weeping for the sweet, happy, clean girl I could have been. I wanted her back, but she was nowhere to be found. I grieved for her, for how hard my parents loved me so I’d be her. She was dead. I’d never be whole again. She was gone.
Like a chemical contamination in a river, I tried to push the poison out of me by stabbing him repeatedly, but it would never go away. No matter how many times I killed him and screamed, it was all inside me.
The rage was infinite.So, when I finished destroying one eye, I just turned his face and started with the other.
The memory, the sensation of him and his friends’ bodies inside mine—their dicks and fingers, their hands pinning me as they forced themselves on me, their laughter, their grunts, the smells. It was nauseating but a part of me now.
