Bloody Angel. Book 2

Nightmares?

Author Note:

Trigger warning. Forced/non-consent. Read past italics is you wish to skip this.

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Cold. Dark. Water drips, the sound echoing loudly in the surrounding space. Pain.  Scratching in her dry throat as she swallows. She shifts and opens her mouth in a silent scream as her bloodied skin pulls, threatening to tear open once more. They had whipped her again, not stopping until she passed out from the pain, the only other feeling that of her hot blood as it ran down her back. She’s so cold now.


A rustle of fabric. Warmth, small but comforting, smoothing lightly over her snarled mess of hair as she cries. She wasn’t dead, not yet. Her continued existence ensured the safety of the only thing that mattered in her life. How long had she been unconscious this time? How soon until they came for her again? She had no way of knowing. She wanted to move, to seek out more of the warmth but her body wouldn’t budge. It no longer listened to her.

She didn’t blame it.

“Annie,” she hears the softest of whispers.

“I’m still here,” she croaks out, forcing herself to swallow with what miniscule amount of saliva she was able to collect in her mouth. It did little to ease her discomfort. A splash of warmth falls on her face and she longs to look, to hold her sister and tell her everything will be okay but she can’t.

“I thought… You were so still..”

Annie lets out a soft laugh that quickly turns into a pained groan. “Come now… I’m s-stronger than that. You k-know th…this.”


She was so tired.


Clanking, a key turning in the rusted lock. Heavy footfalls drawing closer. Her heart hammered, body trembling as her breathing hitched.

“Please…” She hears Lilit beg, her chains rattling as she moves. “Please, it’s too soon! She needs rest! No! No-!”

‘SLAP’


Her eyes fly open and she forces her head to turn, seeing Lilit fall to the ground, clutching at her face.


“Bastard!” Annie growls, feeling rage turned energy course through her and she forces herself onto her hands and knees. Before she can rise further the wind is knocked out of her and she’s thrown back on her side as a boot connects solidly to her ribs. She thought she heard a Crack.


“Still some fight in you? We’ll have to change that, harlot. Grab her! Drag her to the chamber. Time for some fun, boys!”

Hands, rough, calloused, grab her by her arms and drag her against the uneven, dare she say jagged stone floor out of the cell, the bars slamming shut behind them. She struggles, trying to pull from their grasp but it’s useless. She’s too weak. In no time she’s brought to a brightly lit area and thrown face first onto a wooden platform in the all too familiar room, her top half stretched over the surface as her shackles are chained to the opposite legs. Her shoulders groan and begin to cramp with the strain. She kicks as they grab at her legs, spreading them wide and chaining them down in equal fashion. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as the men surrounding her laugh at her pathetic struggles. She was no stranger to how they chained her down like this and her blood somehow ran colder as the first pair of hands grabbed at her thighs and ass, moving the thin slip of a dress out of the way.



Home. Rolling fields of green littered with budding flowers. Birds, flitting about as they sang. A warm breeze. Refreshing spring rain hitting against the glass windows as a fire crackled in the hearth.



She tried to withdraw into her mind, to block them out with what few memories she can  conjure but a white-hot pain and the smell of burning skin brings her back as they press a red-hot heated blade to the back of her thigh and she cries out first to the searing agony of the makeshift brand before choking out a strangled sob as one of them shove into her dry hole, stretching her painfully before they set a relentless pace. She closes her eyes tightly, trying to focus on her breathing, on the rattle of her chains as she struggles. Anything but the grunts he made and the pain she felt as he used her.


“Please, Mother,” she whispers, clenching her hands into fists as she whimpers, feeling the first man fill her before he’s quickly replaced by the next. “Please… help your daughters. We need you, Mother. Now more than ever.. Save us from this hell, I beg of you..”


Fingers grab tight hold of her hair, yanking back hard enough to make her choke over the stretch of her throat as a low and menacing voice whispers in her ear. “Your mommy can't save you now, succubus.”


The hand lets go and she pants lightly, swallowing, trying to get rid of the ache and scratch of her dry throat before a rope is slung around her neck and pulled tight, cutting off her air supply. She struggles harder, gasping and choking as it’s pulled tighter. Her head throbs, her vision growing fuzzy and she feels faint before the pressure is gone, the rope lax around her as she coughs. The man behind her moans as her coughing makes her body tense around him and he’s filling her a couple seconds later. She sobs once more as a third takes his place, thrusting into her a moment before pulling out, drawing a sigh of relief from her that is quickly replaced by a scream of pain as he pushes into her ass, giving her no time to adjust to the intrusion before setting a harsh pace.


Once more the rope tightens and she fights for air. Quicker this time she grows dizzy, gasping and choking, and like before the pressure is gone just as she's about to pass out. The process repeats, for how long she does not know. Each time the rope tightens she succumbs quicker to the edge of unconsciousness until, finally, it claims her and everything goes dark and numb and she prays… Prays that death finally claims her, or that by some miracle they would be saved.


She can’t breathe.


“...Annie…”


She can’t breathe!


“..Annie..!”


She can’t-


“ANNIE!”




Annie’s eyes fly open and she sits up quickly, inhaling so deeply and suddenly she starts coughing, her chest heaving and tears flowing like hot rivers from her eyes. Everything was dark and she strains to see anything, anything at all as fear surges in her.