Page 20 of Psycho Boys

The urge to flee is overpowering, but I stay put, determined to reclaim some of my power in this twisted game. I feel something shift within me—a spark of rebellion igniting as I recall Addy’s words and the strength in unity that my friends and I share. Maybe I can’t break free today, but I will not let them take my spirit. I will not let them shred the remnants of my hope into tatters.

He lunges at me again, but this time I sidestep him, using the chains to my advantage as I whip them around, gaining momentum.

“You think you own me?” I shout, my voice fierce, unyielding. “You have no idea what I’m fucking capable of.”

Before he can react, I swing the chains, the heavy metal smashing into his shoulder. The shock in his eyes is fleeting, quickly replaced with fury. He lunges again, but the moment stretches as I duck down, miraculously slipping through his defenses, an unexpected adrenaline rush fueling my limbs. I hit the door, slamming my shoulder against it, praying it’s not locked. The metallic click seems to echo in my ears, a resounding vote of confidence as I twist the knob and?—

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, Little Psycho?" He snarls, wrapping his hand around my hair and violently tugging it, jerking me back against his chest, his lips pressed against my ear.

"Let me go, Gunnar," I plead, but I know because of my little stunt that things are about to be much, much worse.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your fucking life, Calista," he whispers into my ear as he grabs my hips and forces me over the edge of the bed.

Pushing my face into the mattress so I can't breathe, he steps in between my parted legs and brutally thrusts into me, not showing an ounce of mercy as he rips apart my insides along with my soul, taking my pride and dignity along with it.

I cry—freely cry—for once in my life, and not because of another assault, but because I failed myself. I was too weak to fight him off, and I won't let myself ever forget it.

So as he's pounding into me from behind, taking everything he wants, I lie here and accept my fate, all while plotting in my head his death and how I'm going to make it as painful as I fucking can... whenever I manage to get free.

And I will get free. I refuse to accept that this is my fate—my ending. Not only is he going to regret kidnapping me, but I'll make damn sure he regrets ever laying a finger on me, even if that means I cut them off one by fucking one.

But for now, I succumb to the darkness, the weight of my situation—of Gunnar's body—pulling me further into the abyss. As he continues his merciless assault, I focus on my breathing, clenching and unclenching my fists around the chains. The painful pressure serves as a reminder that I'm still alive and that there’s still a flicker of hope buried within me. I've been through fucking hell before, and like then, I'll get through this too.

Suddenly, a loud crash reverberates through the basement, followed by shouting. I almost don’t register it, lost in the haze of despair and anger that clouds my mind. But then, Gunnar’s grip tightens around my waist as he glances toward the door, his focus momentarily distracted.

“Stay still, bitch,” he growls, yanking my hair to keep me from turning my head.

But something inside me stirs. The noise outside intensifies, footsteps stomping heavily across the floor above us, voices rising in urgency. For the first time, I feel a flicker of something other than dread—fear mingled with a desperate kind of hope.

I use the momentary distraction to muster every ounce of strength I can find within me. Time is of the essence. Why should I wait for someone to rescue me? I can do this myself. I have to.

With a sudden burst of will, I twist my body, trying to break free from Gunnar's grasp. I use the chains to my advantage, swinging them backward to hit him squarely in the chest. The surprise catches him off guard, and he stumbles back just enough for me to launch myself off the bed, ignoring the sharp pain from my legs as I bolt toward the door, yanking the chains off the metal plate they were secured to.

I can hear him scramble to regain his footing, rage fueling his movements. The door looms ahead, just a few agonizing steps away. I reach for the knob, adrenaline surging through me, and in that moment, I don’t look back. I throw open the door and rush into the dimly lit hallway, my breath coming in sharp gasps, the heavy chains dragging against the floor serving as a reminder of all the obstacles that tried to hold me back.

“Cali!” I hear Addy’s voice calling from further down the hall, laced with panic and relief.

"Addy!" I scream, my voice cracking as I race forward, scrambling to find her.

The hallway is cluttered with debris, but I hardly notice as I charge forward, propelled by sheer determination. I round a corner, nearly crashing into a wall as I push myself forward. The sound of pounding footsteps echoes behind me, fueling my instincts to run faster.

“Cali! Over here!” Addy appears from the shadows, bursting into view. Her eyes are wide with urgency, and relief floods my system as I close the distance between us. “What the hell happened?” she demands, glancing back toward the door.

“Gunnar,” I breathe, my heart racing as I reach her side. “We have to get out of here now! They’re coming!”

Without hesitation, Addy grabs my hand, guiding me through the twisted maze of the basement. I cling to hope like a lifeline, the anger still blazing within me but now mingling with the overwhelming need to escape.

We dash down another hallway, and the shouting from above weaves into the chaos, gaining volume. It seems there’s a commotion outside—a fight or something far worse. I just pray that whoever it is has come for us.

Suddenly, the ground shakes as something impacts the door behind us, and all thoughts of escape are drowned by the veryreal threat of being caught again. Addy pulls me into a small alcove, pressing me against the wall as she glances back.

“Hide,” she whispers urgently, her eyes glistening with fear.

Before I can protest, she pushes me further into the shadows, and I watch as she turns to face the hallway, ready to confront whoever emerges. Panic grips my heart; I can’t let her face this alone.

Just as I’m about to step out, a figure appears, charging down the hall like a raging bull. It’s Gunnar, his face twisted in anger, and behind him, I see the hulking forms of his accomplices moving like predators and prey.

“Where the fuck are you?” he bellows, seething, scanning every crevice.

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