Claimed By The Devil Himself.

Chapter Nine:

I was laying there on the floor being kicked the shit out of, my ribs were snapping with each hit. I had blood pouring out of my head, mouth and old wounds that had re-opened.

I begged and pleaded for him to leave me alone, although nothing I was gonna say would stop it.

He started screaming at me as he kicked me, I could barley make out what he was saying.

"Your fucking worthless! This is all your fault, if you just came home on time like your supposed none of this would have happened!" He continued on like this for about five minutes, before reaching for the knife on the counter top.

Dark red blood began pooling beneath me, as I tried to crawl away from him. This man is trying to kill me, finally after all these years he finally snapped.

'Get up Lena. GET UP! You have to run, get up bitch and fucking run!!' I internally screamed at my self, hoping to find the will power to escape.

I managed to pull my self up using one of the dining table chairs, I stood up and it send a shooting pain right through my body.

"Fuck!" I winced out in agony, gripping on to my side as I try to reach the front door.

Suddenly I felt a force pulling me backwards, he had wrapped a fist full of hair in his hand and dragged me up the stairs. I could feel every crack, as my bones smacked onto each wooden step.

Once we reached the top of the stairs I scrambled to get back on my feet, he continued dragging me until we reached my bedroom.

He pushed me toward the bed signalling for me to sit, I was frozen with fear unable to move. I usually fight him off when he's drunk, meaning most of the time I have the upper hand.

Although this time was different, I couldn't smell the alcohol on his breath. He must have been sober, or at least enough to over power me.

"Sit the fuck down! Don't act like you don't want this sort of attention, why else would you dress that way." His words felt like acid pouring down my throat slowly, why did it matter what I wore, I was half his fucking age!

'What the fuck!! No woman dresses for a man, she dresses for herself!' I ranted to myself as the anger built up more and more, until I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Why would I want any attention from a horrible perv like YOU!" I stated with so much emotion, I could feel the tears threatening to fall.

He stormed over to me with his face all scrunched up with pure rage, he pushed me so hard into the wall behind me that it created a large hole. I fell to the floor while coughing up more blood, my head started to spin again and my vision started to blur.

The tears were now pouring down my face like an overflowing river, he took the knife from his pocket and screamed for me to get on the bed.

I tried to lift myself off the ground but failed miserably, the pain travelling through my torso, from the amount of kicks to it earlier had started to catch up with me.

I tried again shaking violently as I did, I managed to hold myself up enough to get to the bed. I went to turn around and sit down but before I could, Adam was behind me pushing me onto my stomach.

That's when I felt all the energy draining from my body, he started to pull off my clothes firstly by ripping open the top Sadie had just bought me.

"PLEASE ADAM STOP! PLEASE GET OFF ME!" I pleaded through outbursts of sobbing, my face now soaking wet with tears and my eyes red raw.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I WILL DO AS I FUCKING WANT. NOW Stop talking before I cut that foul fucking mouth of yours!" He spat out, his words swirling through my mind like a tornado.