Disappearance: A broken Wing

Box

I woke up in a white room with tiny holes scattered across the floor and ceiling. It wasn't like any room I'd ever seen before—sterile, empty, and wrong in every way. My skin prickled with unease. I was completely alone, yet the air carried a suffocating sense of danger.

"I wanted to offer you a deal, but you wanted to be a jerk. Guess what? So can I," a voice echoed through the room.

I looked around frantically and spotted a small box on the wall. An intercom.

Before I could respond, a sharp current tore through me. Electricity surged from the floor, shooting through my body like knives made of fire. I screamed as my muscles locked, the pain consuming me. After ten seconds, it stopped, but I collapsed, my limbs twitching.

"This," the voice continued, "is called The Box. My personal torture chamber. It can electrocute you, rain acid, and even drop the temperature low enough to freeze you alive. Shall we test the acid?"

A sickening drip came from the ceiling. Then another.

Within seconds, the entire ceiling was raining acid. I shrieked as it hit my skin, searing and burning. The pain was unbearable—like my flesh was melting.

"STOP! PLEASE! STOP!" I screamed, falling to my knees, my voice hoarse and breaking.

"How about some electricity to go with that?"

Before I could even catch my breath, the floor lit up again, sending jolts of agony tearing through me. My back arched violently, my throat raw from screaming.

"I told you, Kara," the voice taunted, "I can make your punishment much, much worse."

Finally, the torture stopped. I collapsed into a trembling heap, curling into myself, sobbing silently. This place... this hellhole... was breaking me.

Three days.

That's how long I'd been trapped in The Box. Every day, Carter's men would zap me, freeze me, or scald me with acid. My skin was covered in burn marks and scars. I didn't even recognize myself anymore. The girl I used to see in the mirror—the one who thought she was strong, beautiful, unbreakable—she was gone.

The door creaked open. My body tensed.

Three men walked in, one holding a bat. My stomach twisted with dread.

"No," I whispered, my voice weak and shaking. I haven't eaten in days. My body was too fragile to fight.

"Get her," one of them ordered.

I staggered to my feet and tried to swing, tried to claw at them, but I was too slow. Too weak. The bat struck my ribs, knocking the air out of me. The pain blinded me.

Then I realized—the bat was just a threat. A distraction. What they really wanted was worse.

I screamed as they grabbed me, pinning me to the wall. My body trembled in pure terror and exhaustion. I fought, but it was useless. One after the other, they forced themselves on me. By the time they were done, I was left slumped on the floor, covered in blood, broken and shaking.

When Carter walked in, I didn't have the strength to yell or cry anymore.

"I submit," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I'm... I'm all yours."

The words tasted like poison in my mouth. But what choice did I have?

"I knew you'd come around." His smug smile made my stomach churn. "Come on. Dinner's ready."