Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
But there will be no shrinking.
Not from me.
Not for him.
“The years have been kind to you, Charlene,” he says, scanning me. “You look just like me.”
What a fucking insult.
“Well, aren’t I just lucky then?”
His eyes narrow, and he steps forward, grabbing my chin in his hands. “You might be older now, but you will not disrespect me.”
“Or what?” I snap, jerking my head from his grips. “You’ll torture me? Kill me? Kill everyone I love? Fucking go for it, oh daddy dearest. I have no one I love. And I couldn’t care less if you take my life.”
His eyes flash, and then he lets out a booming laugh.
I hated that laugh as a child.
I hate it more, now.
“Oh, Charlene, how stupid you are. You can run your mouth, but it doesn’t make you any less pathetic then you were as a little girl. Pathetic, and weak, and I’m going to make you wish you were never born.”
“Oh, but you’ve already done that. I wish that every day, and yet here I am, still here, still stuck with the horror of being your blood. So, go your hardest. Do what you need to. I’m not here to bow down to you anymore.”
He grabs my chin, just like he used to, only this time he does it hard. So hard I can’t pull away, though you can guarantee I try. I scowl at him, trying to hide the wince because of the pain radiating through my face. “Be very fucking careful. I spent ten years in prison, because of your mistake, little girl. You can rest assured, I’m going to make you pay for that, in the worst ways possible.”
He looks past me, at the five other men in the room, and smiles. “You think I can’t break you? But my dear, I can. All these men, they’ve been without a woman for a good long while. I wonder how they’ll enjoy taking turns of this plump little body of yours?”
Fear radiates through my chest.
He’s hitting me right where he knows it will hurt.
Of course I under estimated him, that was always my mistake.
He was always one step ahead. Torture, killing, of course he wasn’t going to use those.
He knows what happened to me as a child, which means he knows exactly how to hit my weakest parts.
But, I will never, ever show him fear again.
I hold his eyes and murmurs, “Sounds wonderful.”
For a moment, his eyes flash with confusion. It’s brief, but it’s there. The satisfaction I get, from seeing that, makes courage expand in my chest. He’s not going to wear me down. I’m stronger than anything he can dish out. Even if inside, my body is screaming at me to run away, and fear is clawing at my heart, trying to get in.
He won’t see that.
“Very well, let us see how long it takes you to drop this little act, and beg for mercy. I don’t imagine it’ll be long.”
He lets me go and raises a hand, clicking his fingers. “Take her to the basement, do whatever you want to her, I’ll be down shortly.”
The two men holding me hand me over to three others, who all have filthy grins on their faces.
“But first,” Shanks says. “Before you have fun with her. Make her suffer. Make her burn. Make her hurt. Do as much damage on the outside as you can, then you can enjoy the inside.”
I grit my teeth, and my skin prickles, because I know that whatever I’m about to face, it’s not going to be nice.
No.
It’s going to be awful, and horrible, and the worst thing I’ve ever endured in my life.
The monster is finally going to dig his teeth in.
And tear my soul out once and for all.
~*~*~*~
NOW – CHARLIE
There’s pain.
And then there’s agony.
Pain, you can deal with. You can grit your teeth and handle it. You can take something to ease it. You can find a way around it.
Agony isn’t the same. Agony is brutal, and bone deep, and no matter what you do you can’t escape. It wraps its claws around you, and makes it hurt even more, especially if you struggle.
That’s what I feel right now.
Agony.
Pure agony.
I stopped screaming half an hour ago, when they dropped me to the floor, broken and bloodied. When my father stood by, delivering one last kick to my no doubt broken ribs, and promised they’d be back soon to finish me off. He is actually going to let them have sex with me, before he kills me.
The sick bastard.
As if beating me until I’m nearly dead isn’t enough.
And that’s how I feel right now, bordering death. Walking on the edge. Ready to jump in.
I’ve been punched, kicked, thrown, smashed against walls, had my hair ripped so hard my skull burns, and anything else horrible they could manage to do without weapons. My father promised a grand ending, though. Fingers and toes removed, fucked until I’m dead in the mind, and then he’ll kill me.