Abygail Summers had no idea loving Leom Blackwood would come with a price. The more she gets close the more secrets are revealed hurting both of them in process.
It had been three days since they imprisoned me, but it felt like I had been here for more than a decade. The faint light filtering through the barred window, after what felt like an eternity, signaled that it was morning. That's how i guessed my days in captivity.
To call this a room would be a humiliation to the word room; it was a cell, devoid of life. Dried blood stained the floors and smeared the walls, a telltale sign that I was not the first to endure such horrors. The heavy chains on the wall were constant reminder that had bound me just days ago.
His words rang in my ears: "You are free." For a moment, I felt a flicker of happiness, then I realized I was only free to preserve my decency. They had set me free, not from captivity, but from those shackles.
At least they were decent enough to provide me a washroom, though it was far from clean. The commode was grimy, and the old mirror above the yellowish basin reflected a ghost of my former self. As I gazed into it, I could see my hollow eyes with prominent cheekbones. As if whipping me wasn't enough, they didn't feed me for 2 days. The sharp pangs of hunger clawed at me, intensified by two days without food. My head spun from the hunger. Despite my OCD's, I forced myself to swallow scraps of tissue soaked in the dirty water from the tap.
On the third day, they finally gave me food. It came in a dirty steel bowl with small pieces of cereal shaped like a bone. After a few moments, I realized it was dog food. The utter humiliation washed over me.
"Sheru wouldn't want to share a bowl with you if he knew what you were capable of," sneered a guy whose name was supposedly Roxy. It didn't take long for me to grasp the extent of my degradation—they had fed me the dog food, and in a dog bowl, no less.
The walls I had built over those three days crumbled, and I sobbed like a newborn. I tried to speak, but all that escaped my throat was a wheeze. I stood up and hit him in the chest, my hand barely reaching that high. Through my blurry vision, I saw his eyes soften, but I couldn't understand why they treated me this way. I had never wronged anyone in my life; why were they doing this to me?
Suddenly, I felt him grip my waist, hugging me tightly, but then a sharp prick on my neck sent a jolt of fear through me.
Since there were orders from above, you shouldn't be speaking. I think you need your next dose of hellebore," he whispered menacingly in my ear. I felt him stroking my hair just before I lost the remaining senses I had.
It had been seven days. The devil's spawn would casually stroll into my cell. I tried to succumb to sleep, as that darkness felt more comforting than the darkness surrounding me. He would enter, bringing a chair and a bucket of ice water. He'd splash the cold water on me and watch as I shivered on the floor for hours. But today, he was merciful—no bucket of water in sight.
"Did you really do that? You don't look like you could inflict such horrible crimes," he taunted. "But don't worry, today is the last day. They're coming. I don't think you'll be granted an easy death, though." Those were his last words before he exited.
I stood up with difficulty, my knees buckling under my weight. The wounds on my back had become infected, and I had been running a high fever from the cold water and frigid floor. A wave of dizziness hit me, and my stomach churned. I vomited, but there was nothing— not even acid.
In the mirror, I looked haunting. My eyes held no light, it had been drained. I didn't want to live like this anymore. I often saw suicide as cowardly, but today I realized it was the bravest option.
I punched the mirror, shards of glass slicing into my knuckles. I felt no pain—only the warm trickle of blood pooling in the yellow basin. I wanted to sever my veins, but I was too weak. I felt myself collapsing.
Through my blurry vision, I saw Jessica and our little one, hand in hand. The child wailed, and Jessica leaned closer, panic etched on her face. Her cries pierced my sensitive ears, reminding me that I wouldn't have intact eardrums or my precious voice, taken by that devil's spawn. I didn't want to be deaf and dumb in my next life. Was this heaven? I would check later, I thought, as the darkness felt more inviting than anything else.
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