Page 86 of Twisted in Obsession

A spark of life flickers inside me. For the first time in three years, I’m alive. Wishy-washy, yes. Scared shitless, absolutely. But my eyes are wide open, and the world is in vivid color. There’s no longer a thick fog infecting my thinking. I see everything now.

Sitting in silence does nothing good for my psyche. This is why I always have music or noise on hand. My brain tends to fall down the inevitable rabbit hole of bullshit.

Darkness surrounds me once again. Night after night since the man stole me from my home after… I squeeze my eyes shut tighter as the feel of sticky, hot blood rushes over my fingers. Just like that night when I held the knife tight in my fingers. Bile rests in my throat, threatening to spill over. Again. The amount of times I’ve heaved from stress and lack of food, creating a puddle under my cage, is pushing me over the edge.

But it’s the darkness crashing in on me that has my heart pounding and my mind eating itself.

A faint noise tickles through the walls. It’s barely there. A beautiful melody, capturing my attention. It’s the first noise I’ve heard since I was thrown in here and left for dead.

It’s music.

Sweet, beautiful, melodious music pierces through my ears. The hairs on my arms stand on end when it intensifies. It whines. The notes grow higher and higher until the crescendo hits and falls, sinking into low, passionate, and soothing melodies.

It remains by my side for hours, soothing my heart rate and taking the memories away from my rampant mind.

The violin suddenly stops. Voices murmur beyond the wall. And then, they’re gone.

I shiver, covering my eyes when the bright, fluorescent lights kick on above my prison, giving me a glimpse of the small, basement room I’m being kept in.

“Good evening, Little Snake!” the same man’s voice from before bellows as he enters the small room and toward my cage. His thick fingers run across the metal, taunting me when he stops and pops open the front of my hanging cage. “I think I’ve finally decided what I’m going to do with you.” His grin has my soul fleeing my body, looking for the heavenly light of the Lord.

Not the darkness of this devil promising me pain.

“My sister…” I trail off, unable to get another word in when he grabs me by the throat and throws me onto the ground.

“Here’s the deal,” he says in a smooth voice, standing directly above me. “Your sister is safe. Do as I say, and she’ll remain there. We may even think about getting her further up the transplant list. You know, she has a bad heart and all. Do you understand where I’m going with this?”

I do. She’s needed a new heart for months now, but we can never manage to find a match. Or people who have been on there longer, rightfully get the heart. Sunny is in waiting.

I swallow the lump in my throat refusing to move from my position on the ground. I’m smart enough to know if I try to get back up and face him, he’ll only throw me down again.

“Yes.”

“Then, repeat it back to me, my little snake.” He waves a hand, beginning to pace.

“If I do as you say, you’ll help my sister.”

“And if you’re a bad, bad girl?” He cocks a brow, placing his hands behind his back.

“You won’t help her.” I swallow hard.

What a fucked up agreement. Sunny was getting help. She has a doctor and medication. But she was so far down on the list, she wouldn’t have seen a new heart.

“Precisely. Now, let’s get started with our new arrangement.”

My eyes widen when he pulls out a small dagger from his pocket, unsheathing it from its cover. The metal edges beam the light off it as he holds it in the air with a smile.

“Shirt off. On your knees with your hands behind your back.” It’s an order. One I want to refuse. “Times ticking, Little Snake. One measly call will pull all the drugs currently keeping your dying sister's heart pumping. Do not test me when generosity is pouring out my ass.”

I shake, pushing myself up from my position, and get onto my wobbly knees. Spots blur in my vision when the reality of what’s happening slams into me. Shirt off. On my knees. He’s going to use me. He’s going to… I shake it off. This is my punishment for the sin I committed.

This is what I get for stabbing a man.

My fingers poke at the healed scar resting between my breasts as I lie back on the uncomfortable hard bench with my knees bent, staring at the dotted ceiling.I lose myself in the memories of my past as my fingers twitch over the deep mark that was forced upon me when I fell to my knees. Much like a graduation, he pressed the sharpened blade against my flesh, leaving his stamp on me.

But I got the last laugh when I walked into a tattoo shop once it healed and demanded my tattoo. I wasn’t scared when he pulled out the tattoo machine. I wasn’t frightened when I had to take my shirt off and my bra so he could access the scar between my breasts.

He stiffens, staring down at me after helping me cover my breasts with coverings. “Wow. That’s a hell of a scar.”

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