Page 1 of Wicked Revenge

Prologue

Red.

Warm blood slicks every inch of my naked skin. The rich, coppery scent invades my senses as red-hot rage floods my mind. I’m trapped here again, inside the familiar nightmare that assaults me when I am feeling out of control.

Blood pools around my bruised knees, flowing freely from the dead man's mutilated body next to me on the cold stone floor, from his gaping throat to his severed cock that now lies at his feet.

Crimson-soaked concrete walls are staring back once more, the splatter making pretty patterns against the grey stone.

Rocking back and forth with my gaze fixed on the wall, I welcome the numbness. After years of captivity, retreating into my mind is how I survive. That and…

No, no, no! Please, God no!

Shoving down the devastation that threatens to drown me, a crack in the doorway draws my attention. I use the bed to leverage myself up off the floor, my feet sliding in the slippery mess I made. That heavy steel door is always shut, locked, and guarded.

After all the years spent being his captive, I thought I knew torment. Abuse. Pain. Hopelessness.

But nothing could have prepared me for the fresh hell he unleashed on me tonight.

I make my way through the destroyed cell, looking around at the carnage that remains. Blood coats almost every surface. In the far-right corner lies the remnants of a small wooden desk. It was a gift from the Monster when he caught me drawing on the concrete floor in my own blood.

It smashed to pieces when I threw it against the stone wall. My artwork is now shredded, the ruined papers scattered around the entire space, painting a blood-soaked portrait of the trauma I’ve endured in the cell.

“How fitting,” I mutter, trekking through the chaos.

Splinters of wood dig into the soles of my feet, but I don’t feel the pain as I mindlessly drag myself to the metal door.

Not only did this dumb fuck forget to check his weapons at the door, but he didn’t even shut it. The rage that flowed through me when the Monster left must have been distracting to him. That was a mistake this man won’t get a chance to make again.

He threw me to the hard floor, pieces of the broken desk cutting into the scarred flesh along my back as he overpowered me. His heavy thighs straddled one of mine, and his meaty hand wrapped around my throat.

I could feel his blade digging into my leg as he struggled to control my thrashing body. I hit and scratched him like a feral animal trying to free myself.

He used his body weight to pin me in place, spreading me open. Fighting only turned him on more. Without another thought, his disgusting dick ripped into me, the force enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

Not again. Never again!

That was the last thing I remember. When I came back to myself,I was rocking on the floor next to this guard's mutilated body. I killed him…

Looking back at his bloody corpse and severed cock, I smile sadistically. The emotions feel foreign to me, but I don’t question it. Instead, I welcome the darkness in.

The blood drips down my mangled back, and my whole body aches with each movement, but that is nothing new to me. My scars are proof that I’ll heal, but he’ll never touch me again– never be able to give me new scars.

None of them will.

The Monster stole everything from me, but tonight, he took the one thing that was tethering me to this miserable life. I will end him. I'll bring him to his knees, as I burn his whole kingdom to the ground, and when I do…

I will rise from the ashes as the Queen.

My bloody handprints smear across the door as I use every ounce of my strength to open it enough to fit my small figure through. Peeking back through the crack, I look into the corner of the room one last time.

I’m so sorry. I am so fucking sorry.

Chapter 1

The nightmare dissipates and my consciousness slowly slips back in. The sheets stick to my sweat-soaked body as I stretch, shivering as I try to shove the terrible memories down.

Rubbing my hand over my tear-soaked face, I lock everything in my mental box, and pull myself out of bed. Two years have passed since that night, but it still creeps in when I least expect it.

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