Silent

12. The illusion

Darkness surrounded him. Michael lay on the bed, looking towards the boarded window, longing for the light outside. Longing for a better understanding of time and above all, longing for his freedom. 

They kept him fed at least. The food kept coming regularly enough, but the portions were small and left him hungry. 

How many days had it been? How many hours? Michael wasn't sure, the sense of time blurred in his underground prison.

They hadn't come back to hurt him, but he knew they would, eventually, and too soon they would. 

Was this what the remains of his days would be like? Locked inside that dark room, dreading the moment when the monsters would return.

There were no sharp objects. The cups and plates were plastic, and the food they gave him always something he could eat with fingers. They wanted to ensure he'd live. Even the mirror from the bathroom had been removed when they probably realized he could break it in desperation and harm himself or them.

He would have rather hurt them. Michael had no intention of killing himself, but if this would go on for days, for months, surely not years?  Then maybe he would get desperate enough to try it. The thought unsettled him, made his whole being restless as overwhelming panic tried to consume him, but he needed to survive. He needed to get back home, back home to his family. 

Were they looking for him? Were they worried? Did Tommy miss him? Did anyone?

How long would he be here? How long until he saw the daylight? How long until they'd hurt him again?

And then the moment came when the monster returned. It entered the room calmly, making Michael whimper at the sight of the well-dressed predator who surely had no real humanity left in him.

All calm escaped Michael in an instant. It was raw fear that took over and he wanted to crawl away but couldn't. There was no escape, none except what his mind offered, doing its best to distance him from his body as the monster violated him once more. 

It was difficult.

The grunts and sounds of sick pleasure that his assaulter received filled the air around them, mixing with the sickening sound of their flesh forcefully connecting and the pained cries that escaped him. It didn't sound like his own voice...

 He was doing his best to escape in his mind, some where far but the pain kept pulling him back, sharp waves of it... Sooner or later the pain would end and the weight of the monster would leave him.

 Sooner or later it would be over.

Finally, after excruciating minutes that felt like hours, it ended. The weight left him. The pain did not end but became different. He drew in shaky breaths, feeling the moistness of his tears on his cheeks, feeling as new ones kept forming and rolling down, clouding his vision.

The monster spoke, but the words did not register. It didn't matter what the monster said, Michael did not care to hear him.

Steps echoed further away to the door, and for a moment Michael feared that like the last time, this time as well, the other monster would step in. But it didn't, the door closed with a heavy thud, metallic sound when it was being locked. He was alone and he felt relieved for that small comfort of not having to endure another violation so soon.

His head was aching as he slowly crawled away from the bed, supporting himself with his hands against the cold floor. His abused body quivered from pain and nausea.  It almost made him vomit but nothing did come out though.

 Cold sweat broke on his skin and Michael kept his eyes shut tightly, forcing himself not to think what had happened, trying to force it out of his mind. Finally, after several minutes, he was able to bring himself up on his feet and force himself to move into the bathroom to wash the disgusting trace of the monster away. But it couldn't be washed carefully enough, it would never leave him.