Page 31 of Wicked Revenge

Chapter 17

Cold.

I’m so fucking cold. It seeps deep into my bones, chilling me to the core. My bruised knees dig into the concrete floor as blood runs down my wrists to the tips of my fingers, guiding the gruesome medium into the crevices.

I didn’t even feel the shards of glass piercing through my knuckles when I shattered the mirror above the grimy sink. Nor the pain when I slit my wrists with the shattered remains. Only relief.

Pain is an unrelenting presence I can’t escape. Like this cell. The only escape I can find in this musty cell is my art.

The bloody depiction emulates my desolate existence. A broken girl on her knees for an evil Monster that haunts her.

It wasn’t always like this. Before him, I was a vibrant, happy girl. My life was filled with enchantment and wonder. I had my Grams, Ella and dreams of a future. Ella and I were going to go to college and figure out what we wanted to do with our lives.

I have no future now beyond the walls of this cell and what the Monster wants from me. All I have now is an endless cycle of pain and blood.

The torment never ceases.

The pain never ends.

The blood keeps spilling.

I’m so lost inside my mind, I don’t realize I’m not alone anymore until I feel hands gripping my tangled curls in their fist, pulling me to my feet and away from my masterpiece.

“You stupid, stupid girl,” the Monster snarls in my ear. “What have you done?”

“What I had to do to escape you,” I mumble back.

My body feels like it’s floating and my stomach churns, making bile rise in my throat. Darkness edges my vision, as images of my old life flicker like an old movie in my mind. Maybe this is it. My body is finally letting go of what I can’t. Maybe I’ll finally be free.

“You’ll never escape me, Little Wolf. I own every inch of your goddamn soul,” the Monster snarls, and it’s the last thing I hear before my eyes flutter shut one last time.

***

White light burns my retinas when I try to pry my heavy eyelids apart.

Am I dead?

Will I see Grams again?

Hope blossoms in my chest for the first time at the possibility, giving me the strength to ignore the blinding light and open my eyes once more.

That hope is crushed to dust when the familiar ceiling of my concrete hell stares back at me. I want to scream and cry, but my tears only fuel the Monster’s depravity, and I’ll be damned if I give him anything more than he already takes.

I’ll never escape.

I’ll never know peace.

I will live and die at the Monsters mercy.

Trying to bring my hand to my face, resistance pulls them back down to the bed. Of course, he fucking restrained me. He thinks I was trying to kill myself. It wasn’t my intention, but it would’ve been fucking nice.

Resignation floods my body as I close my eyes, sinking back into the thin mattress in defeat.

“Welcome back, Little Wolf,” the man himself says. I hear the heavy door close behind him before his footsteps echo closer and closer to me.

Keeping my eyes shut, I try to ignore him, but I should’ve known he wouldn’t allow me a single ounce of peace. His fingers dig into my now bandaged wrists, and I force my eyes open. I level him with a look of indifference– one I’ve almost perfected during my time here. I learned early on that he craves my reactions just as much as he craves hurting me.

“That was a stupid thing to do. If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask, Little Wolf.”

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