The Mafia's Captive

TWELVE - Back To Hell

Carla

The rest of the ride was awkwardly silent, aside from me sniffling every now and then. Silent, traitorous tears kept streaming down my face, which Damien seemed to not acknowledge and it was impossible to keep my anxiety as bay. By the time we reached Damien's mansion, I was so exhausted mentally that it physically drained me. I felt so helpless and vulnerable. There was no way out and it was killing me.

As we entered through the gate and the car came to a halt, I dashed outside to run inside the room I stayed in before so I could avoid any confrontations with Damien. The front door was already unlocked so I didn't have to slow down. However, just as I reached the staircase, my forearm was harshly grabbed, "Since you didn't like the comfortable room I provided you with before, allow me to change that situation." Damien started dragging me towards the side of the house I had never been in.

"Wait no, what are you doing? Leave me the fuck alon-" I was cut mid sentence when he roughly grabbed my jaw, "Language, Carla! Don't piss me off anymore. You're in enough trouble as it is. This smart mouth of yours, it's gonna have to change. Nobody disrespects me!" He growled at me.

We reached a staircase that led towards maybe a basement and he dragged me down, leading me to a cell. Throwing me inside, he locked the door made of steel bars. "Until you learn your lesson, how about I let you enjoy the company of these walls, hm? Or you could apologise and I could consider sending you back to your room. It's that simple, the choice is yours." He declared, not a hint of joke in his voice.

"Apologise? Like hell I will. You can die for all I care!" I yelled, trying to sound threatening but the tears didn't stop streaming down my face. I was hurt, humiliated, scared, anxious, and sleep deprived, I didn't want to do this anymore.

His jaw visibly clenched and I could feel the anger radiating off of him. Too bad he can't take disrespect because that's all this asshole is ever going to get from me. "Fine. You dug your own grave, love. Enjoy." With that, he walked back upstairs. "Damien! Motherfucker! You can't leave me here, please!" I sobbed. Looking around me, I noticed the horrid smell, like something rotten had made this basement its home. There was nothing inside the cell except for a bucket in the corner, which I'm guessing was for me to piss me in, and a small white bulb hanging from the ceiling. God, what do I do?

Other than that, all there was in here were walls that desperately needed to be painted, dried blood that really needed to be cleaned, and the chains hanging from the wall at the back. Well at least he didn't chain me to the fucking wall.

Sliding on the cold, hard floor, I let my head fall in my hands as I cried out. If there was any hope before, it's gone now. The terrible cold inside the basement didn't help either, all I had was a hoodie that didn't do much to warm me and a massive amount of anxiety. I looked around again, the gravity of my situation finally setting in, hitting me like a brick to my head.

There is no way out, no one to help me. I'm locked inside a basement cell behind steel bars, sobbing on the cold floor and there's nothing I can do. I can't ever get out of here. I could feel a panic attack creeping its way in. I've been dealing with anxiety since I was a teenager but I stopped having panic attacks years ago, so being alone, especially right now feels horrible.

My breathing starts getting heavy and I get on all fours desperately trying to get some oxygen to my lungs. I feel my body getting numb, my hands losing all feeling and my vision starts to blur. With my heart palpitating really horribly, I try to scream, call for help, "I can- I can't b-breathe, h-help-p me-" I desperately try to scream but my throat gives up on me and what was meant to be a cry for help, merely came out as a whisper before I finally pass out on the unforgiving, cold floor.