Page 75 of Dissension

A dark thought finds its way to the bitter part of her mind. Stop sniveling, it’snothing you haven’t experienced before.

Never this bad, Kara. Never this bad!

Her body trembles uncontrollably and she understands on some level that her body is in shock. It has been a very long time since she’s been whipped with anything likethat.

It’s almost like being back home with Daddy, back then. Back in that cage you called a childhood.

Kara’s alone now, unbothered, untormented in this cell.

She doesn’t know if she’s in a room or a closet. Maybe it’s best that she can’t see her surroundings, because this place smells like death being covered up. Horrible impressions seep into her thoughts, leaving her imagining herself lying in a pile of old piss and blood from someone who came before.

And yet, that wouldn’t be right. These folks know how to clean up after themselves. They’reprofessionals. That’s how they move from one location to another so quickly.

There’s nothing left for her to do but sit and wait. Trapped with the horrors in her mind, wondering what torture awaits her next.

No one is ever going to find her.

Chapter 27

It’s hard to know if she sleeps. There are times when she’s not even certain she’s awake.

The flesh of her back aches, the only reminder that she’s still alive at all.

Time passes without meaning, tied up and sensory deprived the way she is on the cold hard floor. Every moment is some form of tragic hell, dragging on like glass in her feet.

Every second that crawls by leaves her wondering what she’ll have done to her next. The bastards have her as helpless as a bug and there’s absolutely nothing she can do to stop them. A whimper escapes her lips; how could anyone choose this? Those poor vacant souls seeking to suffer, thinkingthisis what they deserve, all for some cash? How could ‘X’ have even considered wantingthis?

She’s going to be twisted, beaten, and burned into something wretched here, in this place that reeks of abrasive cleaning chemicals and bleach. The stench of lost hope and ignored pleas.

No, don’t think like that. The cops will solve this soon. Maybe they’ll find you before you get turned into something you don’t recognize.

Kara entertains herself with plots and plans, thinking of how she’ll manage to save herself from a terrible fate. Perhaps the sick bastards will make a mistake. Maybe they’ll forget to tie her up tight enough, maybe she’ll find a way to get her hands free, to rip off the stupid goggles and earpieces that prevent her from seeing and hearing.

But these people are professionals. They’ve been doing this for a long time, taking people unawares, people that others won’t miss, mutilating them for their gory torture videos, selling those on the dark web for untold costs.

Blackmailing politicians. The rich. The powerful.

These sorts of people don’t make mistakes, do they?

She’s been lying in her own filth for longer than she wants to admit. It’s not as if her captors have been taking the best care of her, no, they’ve been giving her the real prisoner treatment in their deluxe torture hotel. There’s piss drying on her jeans and Kara wants to run away from her own body. She feels vileandviolated. The taste of vomit still echoes on her tongue, bitter.

She doesn’t hear the door open, but she feels when someone stands over her, their booted feet kicking at her ankles.Ah, they’re back for more of her. This is the third time the sick bastards have collected her from her solitude.

Last time, they tied her in terrible contortions and ran a lash over her breasts. Not hard enough to split her flesh, but enough to leave red marks for the camera’s lustful eye.

Kara kicks out viciously and bares her teeth, as if her waning fire will keep away the monster that she can’t see.

Her foot makes contact with something, probably a knee, so she kicks again, but this time a firm set of hands takes hold of her ankle. Big gloved hands, yanking ruthlessly, damn near yanking her foot out of its socket.

Oh, how easily she is physically overpowered. Rage is quickly doused in the icy waters of terror. Brave as she may be, Kara doesn’t want more pain. She’s had plenty of time to imagine the horrible things they might do to her and she wants none of it.

She barely recognizes the hoarse sound of her own voice. It sounds flayed from screaming. “No, no no. Not again. Don’t hurt me again! I didn’t ask for this, why did you bring me here-”

There’s no answer that she can hear. There never is. Just silence and physical brutality, as if she’s meaningless. Like she’s an animal.

Forced to her feet very suddenly, ankle shackles removed, Kara feels hands going to her ears, pulling the noise cancelers away, revealing a sound far more horrible. The noise of the place hits her, as if she’s just stepped into hell itself.The screaming. Someone not too far away is making sounds that Kara hasn’t heard another person make before and it makes her guts feel watery.

“Oh, God.” She whispers the words, mouse-like, wanting to vanish into a hole.

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