Fallen [Levi Ackerman]

Prologue

A scream engulfed my ears. I thought it would drown out the pain-make me numb to it.

All it did was elevate the burning sensation all over my back. With each crack of the whip my back arches with my blood staining the stone floor. The lashes kept coming.

My back was already layered with wounds, my shirt ripped to shreds, while splatters of blood decorate the walls and floor. I knew why I was here shackled to the wall like an animal.

Knew why I was being tortured. In some moments when my vision would go spotty just for a minute, the knowledge of why was painful than the whipping. It plagued my mind like a disease.

Eating away at my sanity, making feel smaller and weaker each second. The angry growls and obnoxious yelling only made me wish I was dead. It only made the hairs on my skin stand and my heart to thunder in my throat.

"You took him," they said angrily despite their laughter. "You stole away his life because you're selfish."

Another lash came and other shriek escaped me. I found myself becoming a sobbing mess as my body withers under his power. Warm blood slithers down my back as cool air brushes against my open flesh.

My suffering was his enjoyment. My pain was his entertainment. He enjoyed this-savored it with all his being.

Boots began to clatter against the stone floor, my heart thundering in my throat when each step of his came closer. I didn't look-forced every part of my being to shut my eyes and steel myself for what will happen next.

"You did this to yourself, you conniving wench."

I release a startled grunt when my hair was roughly yanked backwards. I was forced to open my eyes and stare into his cold, raging ones that glare hatefully down at me.

A cool shiver instantly crawls down my spine. That animal instinct to flee thrums through my veins. His left cheek was caked in my own blood. His white shirt and black pants dirtied.

"If you weren't such a selfish, arrogant bitch none of this would've happened," he sneers. "Chris would still be alive. He would still be here. But he's not-because you sent him to his death."

He slams my face into the wall. A loud crack filled the cellar. Blood started to run down my chin.

"It's your fault!" He screamed. "Your fault he's dead! Your fault for killing every Scout that day! It's your goddamn fault I can't see my brother!" His constant words and shouts numbed the pain blooming over my face.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

His words were like a dagger driving through my heart. I hated it because I knew-I still knew that it was true. It brought back things I longed to forget.

The feelings I wish could die already. The memories and trauma that would drive me to insanity. As he kept chanting that phrase his voice changed.

It morphed into a familiar one that was once so gentle and warm now became one filled with disgust and hatred.

"It's your fault, Emma. Your fault I gave up my life." My heart shook when I hear Chris's voice. My face was being slammed harder into the wall.

He repeated, Your fault, your fault, your fault. My tears and pain meant nothing compared to the hell I put Chris, the other Scouts, and Edward through. Even though I closed my eyes to escape this wretched hell, my memories became a different sort of hell.

One that I could never leave.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hey, everyone!

Just as promised a revised second story!

I have high hopes for this new version, and I hope you all will enjoy this!

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Vote and Comment! ❤️❤️