Page 55 of Tarnished Embers

Earlier, I’d gotten one window to open, and it’s the reason I hear cars pull up to the drive once it’s dark, the sound of tires crunching gravel like someone dragging Odette’s body across them. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.

It’s only when I hear faint voices from outside that I remember what this means; the party. Tonight is the gathering where the guys will…

My hand flies to my mouth to stop the bile that burns the back of my throat from spilling out. I’ve only been getting one meal a day, so I can’t afford to throw it all up. There’s a bucket in the far corner that’s been emptied each day, but I’ve not been permitted fresh clothes or a shower. She’s taken any kind of niceties away until all I’m left with is nothing. Tears fill my eyes and the room suddenly feels too hot, too small as the walls close in on me.

I’m grateful that I’m sitting on my bed, my knees drawn to my chest, because I would have fallen flat on my arse if I’d been standing.

The idea of anyone touching them makes my blood boil, but it’s the fact that I know they will force themselves to be touched to keep me safe. They will allow these rich men and women to rape them to stop it from happening to me.

I take a deep breath, counting from ten backwards as my old therapist used to instruct me, and once I get to one, the room is less oppressive, the situation more manageable. My body is racked with chills, my fingers icy, but I’m no longer about to pass out, so small mercies and all that.

The moon is high in the night sky before I hear the tread of footsteps. Multiple sets of them.

My stomach roils and my pulse thuds in my ears as the noise of muffled voices sound beyond the door. Then I watch in horrified fascination as it slowly opens, and in walks my stepmother followed by four strange men.

All the men are smartly dressed in what looks like expensive tailored suits, and they are a range of ages, all four older than me by some years if their weathered faces and greying hair are any indication. My arms tighten around my knees as I take in the leering way they look at me. They look at me like they’re already possessing me, already taking what they want from me.

“Ember, honey, these gentlemen request the pleasure of your company this evening,” Odette says, a simpering tone in her voice.

“W–what? B–but you p–promised…” I say in a whisper, the sound of my heartbeat thrashing filling my ears. One man, an older gentleman with greying hair and a potbelly, flares his nostrils, his eyes almost rolling as he scents my fear. At least, I assume that’s what he’s doing.

“Oh, that.” Odette gives a tinkling laugh as she waves her hand in the air. “But my boys trained you to take four cocks so well, it would be a shame not to make use of your new skills, and these gentlemen have paid handsomely for you tonight.”

The men laugh, then step further into the room, Odette moving to one side and backing towards the door.

“Odette! Please don’t do this,” I beg, my gaze flitting between her retreating form and the monsters advancing towards me. I’m frozen on the bed, unable to move as I plead with her. “You fucking promised!”

“I lied.” There’s no emotion in her voice, just a frozen emptiness that seals my fate. The smile drops from her face as she says the words, her face void of any kind of expression.

Then the door slams, the sound of the lock clicking loud and like a death knell. I scrabble off the bed, putting it between me and the men, who seem not to be in any rush.

“S–stay away from me, you fucking perverts!” I shout, trying to keep my eyes on them while looking around to see if there’s anything here that can be used as a weapon.

“Tut-tut, little one,” one of them chides. He looks to be the youngest of the group, maybe in his forties, but his blue eyes are shining with excitement, and a quick glance down shows me a small outline pressed against the crotch of his trousers. Bile fills my throat and I have to swallow hard not to throw up. “Such a filthy mouth. We’ll have to fill it for her, won’t we?”

“We will indeed,” Mr potbelly says, his piggy eyes trailing up and down my body. He clearly likes the look of what he sees, his slug-like tongue coming out to lick his pudgy lips.

“I doubt any of you would be able to,” I sneer, sheer revulsion causing me to speak the provocative words regardless of consequence. I back away into the space and past a row of boxes.

“You little bitch!” he hisses while lunging, but I pull the stack of boxes over, and his yelp of pain makes me smile.

I have no plan really, I’m not sure how I’ll get out of the locked door, but I won’t just sit back and let them rape me either. I’ll fight them with all that I have.

“Now, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” blue eyes teases with a quirk of his thin lips. My brows furrow as I note that one of the other men, a tall one with a bald patch and comb-over, is behind him, and Mr potbelly is on the floor, but I can’t see the fourth.

The breath whooshes out of me when arms wrap around me from behind.

“Gotcha,” a dark voice purrs in my ear, and I freeze, the sound of his voice like the whisper of mist on a gravestone. I know without any doubt that this one will make it hurt just because he can and that’s what gets him off. Blinking, dizziness threatens to overcome me as I try to struggle, to loosen his hold, but he’s just too strong and I’m too fucking weak.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off me, you cunt!” I scream, kicking my legs out and cursing myself for not joining the guys in training and asking for some self-defence moves.

“Now, now, petal. There’s no need to say such things. We’re all here for a bit of fun,” blue eyes croons, avoiding my kick aimed at his crotch. He grabs a leg, the tall comb-over man taking the other, and they carry me, wriggling and squirming, back to the bed.

“I will never stop!” I screech, trying to dislodge their grip, and I think that I might have gained a bit of space, but then white light fills my eyes as pain radiates down the side of my face.

“That’s better,” someone says while chuckling, and the ringing in my ears makes it sound like he’s underwater. My vision blurs, coming in and out of focus, and there’s a warmth that tickles down the side of my face.

“I think you hit her too hard,” another voice utters, and then I’m lowered, my hands raised above my head and secured with some kind of tie or rope, the material smooth yet unyielding. My legs are being pulled apart but I can’t seem to see what’s going on. It’s almost as if it’s happening to someone else, my mind detaching from the horror-filled reality before me.

---