Pay the Price

Chapter 10- His Life 2/4 (6th Year)

It was Christopher eleventh birthday when the most painful day thus far occurred. He wouldn't wish it upon anyone. The day prior to his birthday, he was tied and beaten with a belt, and even when it was over, the restraints weren't removed.

He managed to get them off on his birthday and began to feel the walls of the room. He used the walls to guide himself to the door, hoping to escape somehow. The likelihood was extremely low, but he thought it was worth it to try. It was something Connor always said when he was about to do something stupid.

Those four words were ones that Christopher held onto every day. He used the quote in his mind when trying to plan the perfect moment to escape. Mostly when he was completely alone and knew he wouldn't be interrupted.

'Worth it to try.' 

Judging by his youngest brother's age, Christopher knew there would be a birthday party in the coming years, which may give him a chance to escape. He'd have to hold out until then.

As he felt the walls, the soft padding of the soundproofing material felt almost comfortable on his hand, and it was the softest thing he had touched in years. He felt it strange to be comforted by something like it when in a predicament like the one he was in. The floor was the only thing that wasn't covered in the material, but rather, was cold and hard. It hurt his feet to walk on. It hurt even more to crawl along it when he needed to.

When he touched a doorknob, he went to turn it quickly and quietly to test if it was locked. Before he could even get a proper grip on the handle, the door swung open, and almost knocked Christopher out. But he fell back before it could. A large tuft of his hair was gripped, and he was dragged to the centre of the room as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll.

The person slammed him onto the ground, and the impact caused Christopher to groan in pain. It was going to have an ugly bruise left behind on his back. For the first time since he could remember, the lights in the room were turned on. Swiftly, Christopher covered his eyes, the light almost paining him.

First, his eyes had to adjust. When they did, he looked around. He saw every torture device used on him, and instantly knew which ones caused which wounds on him. He spotted Marcus looking at an array of knives, seemingly deciding which one to use. For a second, Christopher thought he could take the opportunity and run, but when he looked at the door, he saw Maria.

No chance of him escaping. He sat up just as a gag was shoved into his mouth, and metal was clamped onto his wrists. He braced himself for impact, hearing wood being picked up and hit against a hand. Before Marcus got any closer to him, Christopher flinched and cried. He was terrified.

"What a brat." He heard Maria scoff. "Don't you dare cry, or you'll be given something to cry about." She shouted at him, and just as she did, the wood was struck on his back. He was hit over and over again, and he cried out. Even if he was used to the abuse, he just had to cry. He was hit over and over again until the wood cracked.

Christopher lie on the ground, crying even more from the physical and emotional pain. He saw the wood being thrown to the side out of the corner of his eye, and heard a blade being picked up. He was forced onto his back, pinned down, and Marcus began to slice his left eyebrow twice.

He tried desperately to stop the man, but Marcus was over two metres tall and very muscular. Christopher gave up trying to fight. He shook with fear, not knowing what was going to happen next. Neither Marcus, nor Maria had ever touched his face, so he had 'something that was even remotely decent'. But they stopped caring.

Maria laughed out as Christopher trembled like a leaf, and even more when the knife was plunged into his left eye. The pain was so severe that Christopher couldn't even scream. He passed out instantly.

But even when Christopher was unconscious, Marcus didn't stop. He created another cut underneath his captee's eye, and then made a variety of cuts of different lengths and depths all over his body. As a 'finishing touch', Marcus heated up a needle and burned a tally mark into Christopher's stomach. The sixth tally. To mark six years.

~

When Christopher woke up, he was in terrible pain. He felt like he was burning. He was still gagged, his wrists were still cuffed, and he noticed that his ankles were also cuffed. The left side of his face was covered, and when he looked down, he saw a variety of slices in his skin.

He didn't even bother to try undo the restraints, the pain was too severe. His face was permanently ruined, and he had a feeling that he'd never fully see again. He had a feeling that there was a possibility that his eye may not even be in its socket, but then he thought again. As cruel as Marcus and Maria were, they wouldn't remove body parts. The most they'd remove were nails, but they could grow back.

Christopher moved around a bit to get his blood flow going, feeling his limbs start to go numb. Just as he did, Maria walked inside, her face having a sneer. Christopher hated her more than anyone. Even if Marcus did most of the torture, Christopher noticed that Marcus didn't seem aware.

Like he was brainwashed. Christopher suspected that because sometimes, Marcus forgot who Christopher was. Sometimes forgetting that the boy was in his house. Marcus was like a zombie. But Maria was aware of everything. She was the epitome of pure evil.

She was purposeful in everything she did and with every order she gave to Marcus. She wanted to make Christopher suffered thoroughly and truly.

She knew exactly how to damage someone psychologically, including her husband. After all, she had groomed her husband into marrying her. She was almost twenty years older than him.

"Finally awake, bitch? You're lucky Marcus didn't do more damage to your eye, otherwise, we'd be forced to remove it here. Whether it'll work again, I don't care, but maybe you have a chance of those wounds not scarring over. Anyhow, in case you were wondering, yesterday was your eleventh birthday. Too bad no one cares about you enough to even give you a second thought. No one will find you. Everyone is glad you're gone." She smirked as she spoke, seeing the despair in Christopher's eyes.

When she finished talking, she slammed the door, locking it behind her. He wept, knowing he had no chance of getting out of the door. He felt helpless, useless, and worthless. That's what he thought he was; he was nothing. He was a nobody.

He cried until he passed out again, being in a dreamless and uncomfortable state of sleep. Not even a nightmare showed itself. Everything felt hopeless to him.