Airy

Chapter 16

He retreated to a rickety chair next to the cell bars, the world spinning as he sat down. The stench of coppery blood, decaying rust, and musty mold suffused the air, making my stomach churn. My gaze was drawn to Gary's body hanging from the ceiling, swaying slightly. The skin on his face was bloody, and his eyes stared blankly into nothingness. Every creak of the chair beneath Alpha felt like a death knell, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was trapped in a nightmare.

"Here, do whatever you want," His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and my eyes widened in horror as he gestured toward the table littered with tools. Did he really think I would use them on him?

 I tried to shake off the shock and return to reality, but my hands trembled and my heart raced uncontrollably. 

Despite my fear, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the gruesome array of implements, each one more twisted and cruel than the last. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of my own ragged breaths.

I simply shook my head.

He got up took one tool that looked like four rings and gave it to me, "put it on!" he said as he went back to his sitting position. 

My hands shook as I reached for the tool he offered me. It was a set of four rings, each one connected to the others by a thin, silver chain. I hesitated for a moment before slipping it onto my finger. It was heavy and cold, and I could feel the metal pressing against my skin.

As I looked up, I saw him watching me with a dark gleam in his eyes. "Good," he said with a twisted grin. "Now you're ready."

I swallowed hard and tried to back away, but he reached out and grabbed my wrist, his grip like a vise. "Don't be afraid," he murmured, pulling me closer. "You'll enjoy this. I promise."

"No hell I won't," I said, turning to leave. But he got up and blocked my way, his gray eyes reflecting a hint of sadness. "You said it was my fault," he continued. "You have your chance now. Because of me, that dirt wanted to rape you."

Tears started to fill my eyes again, and I couldn't stop them. I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. I looked him in the eyes and stuttered, "What do you want from me? Just let me go."

He didn't budge, and his grip on my arm tightened. "I want you to understand," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I want you to see what I see. The darkness in this world, the ugliness that surrounds us every day. You think you're safe, but you're not. No one is. And I can show you that."

I shook my head in disbelief, trying to free myself from his grasp. "I don't want to see that," I said, my voice shaking. "I don't want to be a part of this."

I stared at the knife in his outstretched hand, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't believe what he was asking me to do. Hurt someone? Take a life? It was unthinkable. 

"When someone hurts you, you need to hurt them back," he said, his grip on my arm tightening. "Or else, they will come to finish the job." I shook my head, tears streaming down my face.

"No," I stammered. "I can't." 

"Then I will," he said, turning to face Gary's almost lifeless body. "I'll do it for you."

I watched in horror as he plunged the knife into Gary's chest over and over again, blood spattering onto the floor. My knees gave way, and I fell to the ground, unable to look away. When he was done, he turned back to me, a twisted smile on his face. 

"See?" he said, holding out his blood-stained hand. 

"I took care of it for you. You don't have to be afraid anymore." But I couldn't shake off the fear that was consuming me. This wasn't justice. This wasn't even revenge. It was madness. And I knew, in that moment, that I had to find a way out before it was too late.

He was a monster. 

"He touched what was mine" he said under his breath.

He lowered himself and picked me up from the floor, his grip firm but gentle. My body was frozen, my mind blank. I was in utter shock.

We stepped outside, and I saw the driver standing with a man I didn't recognize. They both looked at us with apologetic faces. The air outside was cold and breezy, but I still felt like I was stuck in that room.

He walked me over to his room, and the moment we reached there, I jumped out of his hands and ran to the bathroom. I was going to be sick.

I didn't eat anything that day, but I emptied whatever was left in my stomach into his bathroom sink. He slowly walked to the door, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. He approached me, trying to hold me up from my position on the ground.

"Get away from me," I said through my teary eyes. "Just leave me alone."

He hesitated for a moment, then walked away, leaving me in the bathroom alone. I sat on the floor, feeling lost and helpless. I couldn't believe what had just happened.

I sat there for what felt like an eternity, my mind racing with questions and doubts. Why did he do this to me? 

After a while, I heard a soft knock on the bathroom door. I didn't move or say anything. The knocking continued, a bit more insistent this time. He opened the door slowly.

He stood there, looking at me with an expression of concern and regret. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I shouldn't have done that. I know I can't take back what happened, but I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make it right."

I didn't know what to say. Part of me wanted to believe him, to give him a chance to make things better. But another part of me was scared and didn't trust him at all.

He reached out to touch my shoulder, but I flinched away. "Please," he said.

"let me go" I said, hope lingering in my eyes.

"I can't" he replied.

I pushed him, this time he willingly stepped to the side. I went straight to the balcony and looked down. falling sounded nice right now.

"Don't," he said, joining me on the balcony. "Don't even think about it."

"I can't stay here," I said, tears streaming down my face. "I need to go."

"I can't let you go," he said, putting a hand on my back. "You're safe here."

"Safe?" I scoffed. "I don't feel safe with you."

"I know," he said softly. "But I'm not going to hurt you. Ever"

Turning to face him. "I just want to leave."

"I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't let you leave."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Because," he said, taking a step closer to me. 

He gestured for me to come inside the room, and I reluctantly followed. He pointed at the sofa, and I sat down, while he took a seat on the chair.

 His voice was low and commanding, and I could feel a shiver run down my spine. "You're mine."

Feeling trapped. His room was nice, with gray furniture and dim lighting, but it felt like a prison to me. I looked around for a way out, but the only way was through him.

"Please, let me go," I begged.

He shook his head. "You don't understand. You belong to me."

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't want this. I didn't want him. Just because he bought me from that place didn't mean I was a property.

He stood up from the chair and walked towards me, his eyes piercing into mine. "You will learn to obey me," he said, his voice laced with a dark and dominant tone.

I got up and backed away, but he grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and almost painful. "You will stay here with me, and you will do as I say."

I tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. The fear inside me grew, and I knew that I was completely at his mercy. I didn't know what he wanted from me, but I knew that it was something that I didn't want to give.

"Please, can I go?" I whispered, hoping that he would take pity on me.

"You're not going anywhere," he said.