HAUNTINGLY | 18+

7 | Burger

I had lost track of time in this room, feeling as though an eternity had passed since my capture. The chains that bound me grew heavier with each passing moment, causing my limbs to ache and numbness to set in.

The only time I had the freedom to move was when Scar decided to unchain me and escort me to the bathroom located across the room.

However, even during those moments, he remained vigilant, standing guard outside the bathroom door until I finished.

There was no escaping this place.

Overwhelmed by frustration and despair, I let out a primal scream that echoed through the confined space. It was a scream born out of desperation, a desperate plea for release from this torment.

My voice grew hoarse as I unleashed my pent-up frustration, the sheer weight of my situation threatening to push me towards the edge of sanity.

I lifted my head back up and stared at the darkness in front of me.

What the fuck did I do to deserve this?

Every day, the same guy, whom I had given the name Scar, would enter my room in silence, carrying a tray of food in his hands. He would approach me with a cold determination, attempting to feed me. Yet, no matter how persistent he was, I refused to eat anything.

With each visit, his frustration became more apparent. His eyes held a mix of annoyance and concern, as if my refusal to eat was a personal insult to him. But I couldn't bring myself to trust him, to surrender control over the one thing I had left – my body and what I put into it.

I knew his intentions were far from pure. The food he brought could be tainted, a means to keep me weak and compliant. I had to maintain my strength, both physically and mentally, in order to escape this prison cell.

So, day after day, I would lock eyes with Scar, silently refusing the food he offered. It became a battle of wills, a small act of defiance amidst the bleakness of my captivity.

I let out a frustrated sigh.

Like clockwork, Scar entered my room, his footsteps barely making a sound against the cold floor. In his hands, he carried a small bowl of food and a bottle of water. He approached me, his presence both familiar and unnerving, and bent down to meet my eye level.

I looked at him, my gaze filled with a mix of defiance and weariness. His eyes, deep and inscrutable, locked with mine for a fleeting moment.

There was a flicker of something in his gaze, a hint of emotion that I couldn't quite decipher. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold mask of detachment he always wore.

"I'm not going to eat that," I stated firmly, my voice laced with frustration. "Don't you fucking understand? I don't want to eat the food you bring me day after day."

Scar's expression remained unchanged, his eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts or intentions. He simply stood there, unmoving, as if my words were insignificant to him.

I leaned back in the chair, feeling tired and sore. I let out a small chuckle. "I'd rather die of starvation than eat your food and stay trapped in this room," I muttered, my voice filled with defiance.

Suddenly Scar's grip tightened around my throat, cutting off my breath. His face drew closer, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and anger.

"Open your fucking mouth and eat this food," he growled, his voice seething with menace.

I stared back into his intense gaze, defiance burning in my eyes. I shook my head, refusing to comply with his demand.

The defiance in my voice matched the fire in my eyes as I uttered a firm "No."