Vigilante | H.S.

87 | Jones

(2/2 of the double update)

Warning for violence.

August 20th.

Diana de Angelais

Complete darkness. It felt like days had passed, weeks even, of being locked up— chained up to this bed in complete darkness. But I couldn't see sunlight, it could have only been a few days, but it felt like so much longer than that.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

They were torturing me. Controlling everything I did. I was chained to the bed, I could only move a few feet in either direction, only with enough length on the chain that I could reach the toilet that was beside the bed. There was a sink with a tiny light that was not close to being enough to light up the room, but it was so much better than being trapped in the pitch black.

I'd been counting. I was sure I had been here for about a week. I was brought food once a day, usually a piece of toast with a small jam jar, or if not that then it would be some other plain, stale food. Enough to keep me alive, but not enough to live.

I felt like I was wasting away, like I was nothing.

It had been two days, I was sure, since I had any food brought to me. They were strict, and needed to keep me under control. I had tried to attack someone a few days ago, hitting, scratching, screaming, kicking, anything I could do. But of course, being the weak, malnourished girl, I lost quickly. And my punishment was no food for two days.

I had the knife Harry gave me, but I was keeping that. I couldn't use it and waste the fact that I had a weapon, I needed to use it at the right opportunity. I didn't know where I was, or what was outside of the door of the tiny room I was locked up in, but I needed to try and be smart about it. I couldn't just attack the first person I saw with the only weapon I had.

After what felt like weeks of being trapped completely alone in the darkness, the locked door at the end of the bed opened, and the room lit up. The figure that walked in was holding a lamp.

I opened my tired eyes and stared at the figure that had just walked into the room, I couldn't make out who it was. The second I looked at the light they were holding, I felt the soreness in the back of my head that travelled through my whole body.

The last however long had been a complete blur, I had no concept of time anymore and everything was dark. I was alone, with only my own thoughts. For a while I had just given up and lay on the bed, accepting that there was no way for me to get out of here, but there was a small part of me that had hope. Being alone meant I had time to think, I needed to plan a way to get out.

"Good morning, princess." A male voice spoke, one I didn't recognise, it wasn't Stefan.

"I'm not your fucking princess." I responded through my teeth, glaring at him.

The man scoffed, rolling his eyes at me, "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

He sat down on the end of the bed by my feet, and I instantly sat up and pulled my legs into myself, shuffling back on the bed to get as far away from him as possible.

"Are you going to behave today?" He asked, tilting his head to the side with a fake sweet tone, like I was a little child who had just been punished. "I'm sure you're hungry."

In his hand he had a plate that he placed just beside him on the bed. A slice of toast, with a little jar of jam and a packet of butter, with a butter knife also on the plate to butter the toast. My stomach jumped at the sight, it had been days since I had last eaten something, I was starving, and that slice of toast looked like the nicest thing in the world to me right now.