Page 4 of Collapsed

Laughter erupts a few feet away from me. I turn my head to see Ivan leaning on a table. Trying to look closer, it looks like a surgical table with a sheet over it. “How was your nap, my love?” Ivan’s voice sounds different. He sounds like he’s talking to someone he actually cares for. Knowing that he’s using that tone with me makes bile rise in my throat.

“Love?” I question him. “There is no chance in fucking hell that I could ever love some disgusting pig like you!”

He stands up straight and whips the cover off the table in front of him. I’m too low to be able to see what’s on it, but I can see light reflecting off of it. Ivan reaches down and pulls up a large hand saw. He examines it for a moment, then sets it back down. He eyes the objects on the table before picking up something else. This time it's a scalpel. He grips it between his fingers, holding it up to the light, inspecting it. “Perfect.”

Ivan steps around the table and walks towards the bed I’m tied to. “Stay the fuck away from me!” I shout at him, thrashing my body as much as I can. A grin spreads across his face as he continues towards me.

Standing directly over me, he runs the broadside of the scalpel down my cheek. “It would be so easy to slice you open bit by bit. I would hate to mess up this perfect body and face, though.” Relief starts to wash over me, knowing that he doesn’t want to kill me, but what does he want? He keeps running the cool blade down my cheek, and then slowly glides it down the side of my neck, eventually resting the sharp tip against my collarbone and nicking it. I refuse to make a sound. “A few slices won’t hurt, though,” he hums.

He continues to slide the broad side down my chest and rolls it up one of my breasts. He circles the scalpel over my shirt, around my nipple, and I hold my breath. “These are mine now,” he says.

“In your dreams, you piece of shit,” I say. “I will never be yours.”

He leans down so his mouth is inches from my ear. “You have no one left. Spending all your time spreading your legs…” he trails off, moving the blade down to my inner thigh and resting it there before continuing his sentence. “For some pathetic lesser beings. They were all easy to take down. Men like that could never give you what you want, what you really need.”

The blade starts to move up my thigh, and I realize this sick fuck has removed my pants. This is my absolute nightmare. Being left alone at the hands of this psycho. I really am alone. With my team- I hesitate because the entire team wasn’t there. Marcela, Conrad, BJ, and Katia weren’t in the building. I have to hold out hope as long as I can because they will come for me. I just have to endure. Conrad will have already used his genius skills and probably knows where I’m at.

Ivan’s eyes move down my body, and then one of his hands grabs the bottom of my shirt. He uses the scalpel to cut up the middle of my shirt, exposing everything underneath. I’m wearing an undershirt and a sports bra. He starts to cut up the middle of the undershirt, and I begin to worry about how far he plans to go. I think I know the answer.

Once my two shirts are splayed open and have fallen to the side, Ivan moves his hand as though he’s going to strip the last bit of material from my chest. “Don’t even think about it, you sick fuck!” I try moving my body away from him, but there is little give. “I will never give myself to you.”

Ivan stands up straight, still staring at my midsection, but then his eyes move up until they meet mine. His eyes are lit up like a child opening the best Christmas present ever. Then a sinister smile spreads across his thin lips. “I will greatly enjoy it when you finally give yourself to me, but I believe I will have more fun breaking you first.” His gentle tone from earlier has vanished. Now he’s the Ivan that I’ve known for far too long.

He turns away from the bed, walks around the table he was leaning on when I woke up and leaves through a door on the other side of the table. The door slams closed behind him, which can only mean more pain to come for me in the future.

With him out of the room, I try to scan my surroundings. I can’t lift my head too much because my body is stretched in these restraints. I lift my head as much as I can to see what kind of restraints are on my ankles. It’s a thick rope, but I can’t see the knot well enough. I decide to just go for it and wildly swing my arms and legs. The metal bed frame makes a banging sound against the cement floor, but I’ve achieved nothing except losing a few layers of skin on my wrists. I have rubbed them raw, and they start to feel like they are burning.

My mind starts to wander towards my team, and wondering if they are on their way to me right now. It’s not the entire team, though, is it? Alexie, King, and Stryker were in that building with me. The last time I saw them, their bodies weren’t moving. Moisture starts to fall down the side of my face, and the pain of holding back tears starts to build. Crying always seemed like such a weakness to me, but I’ve learned it only shows that I care and have real emotions, unlike the cretin that brought me here.

I let the tears fall, each one giving me strength. I need to get back to the loved ones I have left. Katia just came back to me, and I have no intention of being away from her again. Conrad, my gentle lover, will be my rock as we try to move forward. He has lost so much because of Ivan, as well as Marcela and BJ. We all need each other.

The metal door slamming open brings me out of my inner pep talk. I turn my head to see Ivan coming back wearing a smile that makes me cringe. He’s not alone this time. He yanks a chain forward, and a woman appears next to him. He walks around the table so that I can see him fully as he roughly tugs the woman behind him. When she comes into full view, I can see that she is not wearing any clothing, and she is covered in bruises, cuts, and burns.What did this bastard do to her?

“Moy ogon,” Ivan’s voice turns almost gleeful. “Meet one of your stand-ins. She is number nine. I honestly can’t remember how many because… well, they aren’t memorable.” He lets out a low laugh as though he just made a funny joke.

I refuse to look at him. Instead, I only look at this poor woman, wondering where he must have taken her from, and the loved ones she is going to leave behind. As much as I hate it, I know this woman is not leaving this room alive. She will be used to try and break me. And he’s going to enjoy every minute of this.

The woman’s hair is a poorly dyed, bright red color. Ivan said the woman was a ‘stand-in’, which means he colored her hair to imitate mine.Disgusting.He also called her number eight or nine. He must pretend they’re me to torture and brutalize them. I have never understood Ivan’s fascination with me, but I never would have thought that it went to such depths.

“Arms up,moy ogon,” he commands her. She never looks up, yet raises her arms above her head just as she’s told. He reaches up and grabs a hook that is hanging from the ceiling and latches it to the chains that bind her wrists together. He moves to the wall and pulls on the chain attached to the hook, forcing the woman’s arms to stretch high above her head until she is practically on her toes. When she lets out a groan, he pulls it once more.

Her stretched-out body shows all the damage inflicted by Ivan. I see a brand; burned into her chest are the words ‘moy ogon’.His stupid obsession with that nickname.There are numerous burns and cuts on her skin, none of which look like they’ve been tended to.

“Ready for a show?” he asks, his tone sounding as though he is having the time of his life.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I cave. No one needs to die because this lunatic has some decade-long obsession with me. “Let her go, and you can have me.” My eyes move away from the woman, now looking at him. “I promise.”

The sickest laugh erupts from Ivan. When he stops, he walks back over to the bed and crouches down until he is at eye level with me. His hand goes to my face and brushes some hair behind my ear. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

As much as I want to answer honestly and tell him he’s the biggest fool of all, I need to think of the other woman in this room as well as my survival. “No. I don’t think you’re a fool,” I say to him, trying to sound sincere.

The corner of his mouth turns up. “You will learn, but I know it will take time and some lessons. This will be your first;Iam in charge.” He stands up and walks around the woman to the table behind her.

He starts to rifle through things on the table. The sound of metal clanking has my stomach twisting and makes it so I can no longer hear him. I look back at the woman, and this time she is looking at me as well. Her eyes seem almost hollow, and I can’t make out any expression. I can’t imagine the horrors she has endured to get to this point.

I look at her intensely, as though I can send her some of my strength telepathically. Her mouth opens, and a scream escapes her. She starts to struggle in the chains, and I instantly smell something burning. Ivan walks around her hanging body with a long metal pole that is bright orange at the tip. He glances over at me, seeing my reaction. A smile forms on his face as his eyes light up. He’s enjoying this. He closes his eyes and lifts his chin before taking a deep inhale through his nose. A moan slithers out from his mouth.This fucking disgusting, sick psycho.The woman whimpers, her head slung low again.

Ivan says nothing but turns his attention back to his ‘stand-in’ and presses the hot poker to her inner thigh. She lets out another scream, and he quickly pulls it back, pressing it to the inside of her other thigh. I yell for him to stop, but he keeps pressing the hot poker to various spots around her inner thighs. Her screams drown out my pleas for him to stop.

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