Page 16 of Taking Me

“Te ves hermosa mi pequeña siniestra, you look beautiful,” he says softly.

“Thank you…Master,” I let out.

“Eat,” he commands softly, but an edge to his voice makes it clear it’s not a suggestion.

I pick up a fork and start to eat, the food tasting like something only from a dream.

He leans back in his chair, watching me intently.

“You must have many questions,” he says, almost reading my thoughts. “And I have answers, but they’ll come in due time. For now, eat and regain your strength. You’ll need it.” His words send a shiver down my spine, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being drawn deeper into a web I may never escape.

I can’t keep up this facade for much longer. I’ve gulped down at least eight cups of water, trying to calm the gnawing anxiety. I’ve eaten so much that I feel like I might throw up, but I forcemyself to keep going. I savor each bite I take as if it might be my last because the truth is, it very well could be at any given moment.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the thought of Ghost. His image haunts my mind, and I just need to know if he’s alive. If he is, it will give me a semblance of hope, a reason to keep fighting. If not, I guess I’ll just play along with their twisted game until I either get killed or manage to escape.

Marklov clears his throat loudly, once again disturbing my thoughts of Ghost.

“I hope that you are enjoying the dinner. I had it specially prepared for you.” I couldn’t tell what he was hinting at.

“Thank you… Master,” I reply to him.

“Tonight will be busy. I have some…company coming over for a get-together, and you will be my plus one.” My mind begins to race as thoughts of escaping come into my mind.

I hesitate momentarily. Is Marklov really going to trust me in a room full of people?

“If you try to pull any funny shit, you will be punished. These people are not your everyday people. These people are heartless. Their blood runs cold. Most of them work with me. So I’d love it if you would set a good lady example.” I bow my head down, playing with a pea that is left on my plate.

“Do I make myself clear?” He slams his hand on the table, causing me to jump upright.

“Ye…yes, Master.” I stuttered out to him, trying to keep my voice steady.

A part of me wants to sit here and break down, but an even more significant part of me just wants to close my eyes and escape this nightmare for a while. “Can I go to the bathroom, please?” I asked.

“Please, what?” He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for me to correct myself.

“Please, Master.” I huffed out. Those words leave a taste of disgust lingering in the back of my throat.

He stands up and strides over to where I’m sitting, shoving away the food surrounding me. I divert my eyes to the floor, starting to count the lines of the tiles. Each line becomes a lifeline, a way to escape the reality of the moment. Marklov’s shadow looms over me. When I reach twenty-three, he extends his hand, gesturing for me to take it.

“Come, Bonita,” he says in a voice that tries to be reassuring but fails to hide the underlying authority.

His presence is overwhelming, and the room seems to shrink around us. Hesitantly, I lift my hand towards his, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

I lift my hand, and I can’t help but notice how badly it is shaking. I take a deep breath, trying to calm all of my senses. I know this sick bastard feeds on my fear, and I’ll be damned if I do anything to help him feel any more sense of power over me.

As I rise to my feet, I can feel his gaze fixed on me, tracking my every movement. I grasp his hand, the warmth of his skin colliding with my chilled touch.

Marklov leads me out of the dining area, guiding me towards what seems to be a living room. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with books that seem more decorative than functional. He catches me gazing around the room.

“You and your mother could have had all of this, but she was nothing but a sick whore, and you were a spoiled brat,” he barks at me, his words stinging and causing anger to bubble up inside me.

I want to defend my mother, but I can’t. The words catch in my throat, choked by the rage that courses through me. I want to slit this man’s every artery and watch him bleed out, relishing each drop of his essence, but I can’t. My hands tremble with the urge to act, but they remain bound by my current helplessness.I want to eliminate every single sick individual who works for him to ensure they face the consequences of their cruelty and corruption. Only time will reveal if I can.

We approach an entrance, and Marklov opens it for me, extending his hand and gesturing for me to enter. As I step inside, a massive vanity stretches along one wall, adorned with elegant fixtures and a beautiful marble countertop. The stand-up shower features multiple heads, promising a luxurious experience with its cascading streams of water. The toilet is freakishly clean, almost sparkling under the soft, ambient lighting that makes every detail pop. The entire space is just oddly comforting for a room to shit and piss in.

I turn to close the door, but Marklov’s hand crashes against it, halting me.

“Ah ah, the door stays open, Little Sinister,” he sneers.

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