Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 . . . 𝗜 𝗠𝗔𝗬 fail but i will never give up ❜ ⸝⸝
⊹ . ◌ ༚ ˳ 🕳️⠀﹒⠀ ꙳ .
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
🖇·˚ ≋♡
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
- 2020, December
The air in the cabin hung heavy with an unsettling tension. Mercy's eyes shifted around, taking in the familiar surroundings of her grandmother's cabin. The cozy ambiance that once brought solace now served as a stark contrast to the horror she found herself in.
Her captor's voice cut through the silence, and she turned her gaze toward him. The grin on his face sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't shake off the repulsion that filled her at his attempt to mimic Heeseung's actions.
'Good morning,' he greeted with a twisted sense of cheerfulness. His lips pressed against her forehead, a mockery of the affection she once knew. Disgust crept over her, yet she concealed it beneath a veil of silent endurance.
'Where am I?' The throbbing pain in her throat demanded attention as she croaked out the hoarse question. Her hand instinctively went to her neck, fingers gingerly tracing the soreness. The bruise she anticipated confirmed the brutality of the attack.
'Don't worry about it,' he said, though, there was a frown on his face when he noticed her discofmort. 'My apologies, bunny. I had to take some drastic measures to get you here. . .' he continued with a disturbing giggle. 'But now that we're together, we can do whatever we want!'
Mercy remained silent, refusing to engage with him.
'Are you not happy?'
His attempts to elicit a response fell on deaf ears. The captive atmosphere in the cabin seemed to press down on her, but she held onto a glimmer of resistance.
His question, laced with an unsettling intensity, still hung in the air. 'Are you not happy?' he repeated, the harshness of his tone underscoring the volatile atmosphere in the room.
Mercy's gaze remained averted, unwilling to meet his eyes. It was a choice born out of a desire to protect herself, to shield her emotions from his predatory scrutiny. Little did she realize it would provoke his anger.
The next moment, a plate became a projectile, a manifestation of his frustration. The crash against the wall served as a harsh reminder of the precarious situation she found herself in. Porcelain shards glittered like dangerous confetti, a chaotic aftermath that mirrored the turmoil in her mind.
'Are you not happy?!' he bellowed, the anger in his voice sending shivers down her spine.
Terrified, she turned her eyes toward him, meeting his gaze. A forced nod escaped her lips as she stammered, 'I am happy,' her voice barely audible. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she felt compelled to placate the aggressor in her desperate attempt to survive.
In her heart, she knew that she needed to find a way out. The confines of the cabin were a prison, and every moment spent in his presence heightened her sense of vulnerability. Yet, the question lingered—how could she escape this nightmare?
He leaned down and kissed her nose. 'Good,' he smiled.
In that desperate moment, Mercy played the dangerous game of feigned affection. She kissed him, a facade of intimacy, a performance she loathed but deemed necessary for survival. She clung to the illusion that, perhaps, if he believed she reciprocated his feelings, he would lower his guard.
His lips met hers, and she fought the urge to recoil. She pictured Heeseung in her mind, summoning memories of their genuine moments, attempting to replace the cold reality with the warmth she craved. The taste was not the familiar sweetness of Heeseung's affection; instead, it lingered as a bitter reminder of the life she now lived.
The touch was rough, unfeeling, a stark contrast to the tenderness she longed for. His hands, unlike Heeseung's gentle caresses, were calloused, marked by a life not meant for love but for pursuit. A shiver ran down her spine as she grappled with the unsettling reality of the situation.
Her act was a delicate dance on the edge of deception, a precarious tightrope walk where missteps could lead to dire consequences. Yet, she pressed on, knowing that trust was the currency she needed for a chance at freedom.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
