Page 5 of Brutal Empire

My subconscious already knew what I was figuring out myself. My hands were bound.

How did I end up here?

Had I not behaved well? Was Daphne tired of me? Was she giving me back? I tried to do everything right so Daphne would be proud of me.

Daphne was all I had left in the world.

Goosebumps covered my arms as I pulled them against the ropes wrapped around my wrists. I was immobile; I couldn’t run. I couldn’t defend myself. Images of myself being tied to my master’s bed while he degraded me paralyzed me with fear.

The whimpers coming from me sounded almost inhuman. I swore I would never be this weak, and here I was, helpless and forgotten. I knewhewasn’t here, but fear let me smell and feel him—the faint smell of mint and musky cologne or how his manicured hands touched my skin. The way his mustache prickled against my cheek. His eyes were golden like honey, especially when the sun hit them. They looked endless and pure, but too bad that staring at them long enough drowned you. It was a sticky hold you never got out of.

“Snap out of it!”

The voice was not that of my master. It was farther away yet familiar.

It came again, but I couldn’t focus long enough on it to understand what else they had said. My body temperature was hot—hell had found me once again. Once the flames lick you, do they ever really leave you?

“Focus!”

This time, it was clearer. I blinked furiously as I held back the bile in the back of my throat. Daphne’s pale complexion came into focus. We weren’t in my room, but this place was familiar to me. I had woken up here once already. It was the basement of the cottage—soundproofed, equipped with all kinds of chains and weapons that you could hold off a small army.

“Please…I promise I’ll be good…I won’t annoy you anymore!’’ I was sobbing. All I wanted was the binds to be taken off me.

They burned.

They were searing my skin once again. The years my master kept me bound had done damage to my skin from the way the rope burned.

I would gladly take Daphne’s shooting and stabbing over this.

“Please,I’m sorry!” My sobs were in vain; she had no mercy on me.

She gripped my chin, and I recoiled from her touch. Her eyes flashed, but her composure stayed. If I wanted mercy from her, I should have known it would never come.

You’ll always be my pet.

“I have given you the knowledge to set yourself free.” Daphne spoke softly as her cold, pale hands stroked my cheek. How could she show me affection when she was killing me on the inside? She became blurry because my eyes welled with tears.

“This is one battle I cannot fight for you…” she said as she let go of me. “Do this for yourself.”

Those last words echoed as she began to walk away without looking at me again. When the door closed, I was surprised the remaining fragments of my busted-up heart didn’t break.

Neither my mind nor my body forgot how the pain of the rope felt against my skin. With every pull, it burned…my skin begged to be set free. It was dark in the room, with no light to comfort me, just me and the darkness. It was an old friend that never left me. It was a constant companion that had followed me into hell.

I didn’t have to look at my wrists to know they were raw and mangled, probably bleeding. Again, this wasn’t anything new. As much as I liked to pretend the time with my master was an old memory, it still haunted me. Our time together was forever forged into my skin. In every scar my body still carried.

When you were in the dark, time seemed like it went on forever. A second, a minute, and an hour, it all felt like the same. I cried so much my tears had dried—but crying wasn’t going to save me. What felt like a day passed, and all I did was lie there breathing, resigning myself to these turns of events.

When my mouth felt like I had licked cotton, I began to accept my fate. This was my ending. This was who I was set to become—this was my destiny all along. Not all of us have to do great things. There was a balance in life. Positives and negatives, and I was just one of those tragedies people prayed never happened to them.

Who am I?

Here I was, bound, probably going to die this way, and I was no closer to knowing where I came from. Did I not have a family to mourn me?

Had I always been so unwanted?

Tears I didn’t think I could produce came. One glided down my skin to the top of my lip, and I poked my tongue out to lick it. As if that was going to give me enough hydration to save me.

I was truly alone, like an unwanted animal roaming the streets of this world.

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