She was kind, generous, and wonderful. Nothing like me. There was no one else quite like her, and I couldn’t imagine a world without her spark, her glowing inner light. And yet, there existed people who wanted to erase her entire existence. She was nothing more than an inconvenience to them, a dark speck on their horizon that needed to be chased away forever.
I kept wondering what those fucking bastards were doing to her now that she was in their vile, wretched grip. It was driving me fucking insane. Her voice echoed in my mind constantly, screams of agony with pleading moans, begging for her shadowy aggressors to stop. As much as I tried to stop myself from hearing it, I couldn’t. It was always there; that icy fear of the horrifying things they might be doing to her.
They could be brutally raping her right now. They could be holding her down and carving shit into her like they did to the others. Or they might be tormenting her in other ways, inflicting as much pain and terror as possible, right up until the moment she lost her mind. The awful thoughts made me want to vomit.
Was she even conscious anymore? Alive?
I told myself she had to be, because the bastards liked to torture their victims for months, even years, but a disturbing little voice in the back of my head kept whispering dark things to me, telling me she wasn’t like their usual victims.
That was true. She wasn’t. She was a young woman who could ruin them, not a kid or teen they wanted to enslave, and so they probably wouldn’t do the usual shit to her. For all I knew, they’d put a bullet in her skull immediately and ditched her body in the backwoods somewhere.
I had to believe they hadn’t done that, though. I fucking had to. I couldn’t accept that she was gone; couldn’t stand the thought of those twisted assholes crowing over her dead body before tossing her out like a piece of garbage.
No, she had to be alive, so that I could make things right and rescue her from the sick fucking pricks before it was too late.
Panic and rage flooded me all over again, and I jumped to my feet, needing to figure out what to do right the fuck now. I hadn’t slept since my girl was taken from me, and I wasn’t going to until she was back safe in my arms. I couldn’t. I needed to see her beautiful face, hear her voice, touch her soft skin. Needed to chase away all her fears, kill all the monsters who threatened her world.
“I’m trying, Celeste. Fucking trying. Just stay strong for a little longer,” I said out loud, wishing against all reason and rationality that my words would float through the universe and find their way to her.
She had to know I was on her side. She had to know I was searching for her, and she had to have that hope burning deep within her. Surely. By now she had to have realized I’d never give up on her.
I took a deep breath and sat down again, attempting to straighten the jumble of thoughts in my head. The breathing helped my panic subside, but not my anger. That was still growing, churning like the dark storm clouds overhead, waiting for lighting to strike.
And finally, it struck. Time seemed to stop for a few seconds, just like I’d wished for earlier, as an idea crystallized in my mind.
I knew where to go. I knew who might have real answers for me.
With a grim set to my jaw, I grabbed my jacket and keys before storming outside to my car. Hold on, angel. I’m coming for you.