Skyscrapers Fall |18+|

Part XXIV

This chapter contains content that some may find triggering. I advise that you skip this chapter if you're easily triggered by references to sexual assault. The rest of the story will still make sense if this chapter is skipped. 

| DAISY |

"VITO!" I scream, the words tumbling out my mouth instinctually. His eyes widen in shock as pain reverberates through his body and the colour begins to drain from his face. I can do nothing but helplessly watch him sink to the floor in agony.

I fall with him, desperately grabbing at our clothes on the floor and wrapping them around his arm in a weak attempt at stopping the bleeding. There's so much blood.

"You're gonna be okay," I say, my voice breaking and eyes welling with tears. I'm not sure if I'm reassuring him or myself, but I can only pray my words are the truth.

By this point, more intruders have arrived, pushing their way into the room and grabbing me, trying to rip me away from Vito.

"NO!" I scream, sobbing as they manage to tear us apart. I have no idea why they don't just kill me. What do they have to gain by dragging this out?

Some more men crowd round Vito, hoisting him up by the arms. They make a special effort of grabbing him right on his wound and I catch a glimpse of the grimace on his Vito's face before I'm swept away, into another room.

"Let go of me!" I demand, suddenly aware that I'm naked, being manhandled by random strangers. "Don't touch me!"

I try to hide the fear from my voice, masking it as anger whilst I squirm and kick, screaming for them to set me free.

If they're going to kill Vito, I want them to kill me too.

"We're not gonna fuck you yet, sweetheart," one of the men says, condescendingly. "If that were the goal, believe me, we would have done it by now."

I continue kicking and screaming as they carry me towards a van parked outside. A few of them run ahead and open the doors, giving me a better chance at freeing myself.

Or so I thought.

My screams become muffled as the man behind me pulls out a cloth, slamming it over my mouth so that the chemicals overwhelm me.

Chloroform.

It doesn't take long to kick in, immobilising me completely. I don't know what happens next. All I remember is darkness consuming me, my body becoming heavy and tired.

What happens next is something I can only describe as pure horror. I wake up, tired and frail. My body feels bruised and sore, like I'd been beaten in various places. My head throbs in pain, and my skin feels tight, and there's a putrid, sickly flavour in my mouth.

I'm locked in some cell somewhere, lying on a dirty, concrete floor.

Something's wrong. Very wrong.

I reach my hands up to my face, touching it to assess the damage. It feels dry and crispy, like there's something stuck to it. I sit up slightly, propping myself up on my elbows so I can look at my body.

It's only then I realise what's happened. The dark cloud that's been looming over me hovers closer, settling itself in the pit of my stomach.

My body's battered and bruised, my hair's knotted and my limbs feel stiff feeble.

Worst of all, there's dried semen on my breasts, and I know it wasn't from Vito.

I don't remember what they did to me, or who did it. I was unconscious. I should be grateful I don't have to live with the trauma of remembering, that those events happened when I wasn't there.

But I'm not.

I'm not grateful.

How could I be?

My mind might not remember, but my body knows I've been betrayed. I feel dirty and used and robbed of what fragments of innocence I had left.

How cowardly does one have to be to assault someone while unconscious. To not even give me a chance to fight back.

I should rip their fucking heads off, the lot of them.

My anger subsides when I feel hot tears streaming down my face. I feel violated. Utterly violated.

And there's no one coming to save me, because Vito is likely dead .

The harsh reality hits me like a brick. They probably killed him to take over his empire, and now they've kidnapped me to use me as some fucked up sex slave.

At this point I begin to violently sob, tears flood my face, dripping from my cheeks and coating my lips in salt.

I'm all alone.

I don't know how much time passes as I sit there in the cell. My skin is covered in goosebumps and I'm violently shivering from how cold it is.

I wish someone would come and give me a blanket. Or a hug.

I stopped crying a while ago, now I'm just lying on the floor, feeling nothing but numb. I wish my life would end. No one's come in here to check on me, or give me food or water.

I don't expect them to look after me, but if they want to keep me alive, I'll need some water at least. My mouth is so dry.

"Please someone h-help me, please," my teeth chatter as I try to cry out for help in the cold. My voice is so weak that I doubt anyone heard, and if they did, they certainly wouldn't want to help me.

I miss Vito. I miss him so much. I hate not knowing whether he's dead or if he's okay; or if he's stuck in a cold, empty cell somewhere, like me.

There's no windows in here, so it's impossible to tell what time it is. I don't know if it's been minutes, hours, or even days since I got here.

It doesn't help that I don't remember getting here in the first place.

Fuck them.

I crane my neck, looking up at the industrial, metal door. There's no gaps, or windows, or even a handle. I don't think I could find a way out.

Just as I'm plotting my escape, I hear footsteps drawing closer from behind the door, followed by loud clang. 

The door opens, revealing a young man in a suit.

"The boss will see you now."

_______________________________________

If you have struggled with sexual assault, please reach out for help. You are not alone.

rapecrisis.org.uk

samaritans.org

Childline at 08001111

any overseas equivalent.