A Match Made in Hell

Chapter 4 - Loyalty above all

   Victoria's breathing hitches and she freezes, flinching and closing her eyes tightly. She knew she was no use to them dead, that'd mean he couldn't take advantage of Mateo... He wouldn't kill her, not yet at least. She let out a shaky breath and opened her eyes again, looking into his eyes and letting out a shaky breath. "Screw. You... I'll never help you..." She whispered and stared into his eyes, her body trembling slightly under his grasp.

    A flash of rage courses through her at Victoria's unwillingness to submit. But he forces it down and meets her defiant stare evenly, recognising her words for what they are - an attempt to maintain the last shreds of control in this hopeless situation. Finally he sighs and withdraws the knife from her neck, releasing her hair. "As you wish, Victoria. But know that each refusal only earns you greater torment." He steps back and straightens his suit jacket. "We shall have to find... Alternative methods of persuasion." Snapping his fingers, two large goons appear at the door. "Take her to the cellar, I'm sure Fransico and Leon will find creative ways to wear down her resistance." He says with a wave of his hand.

    The men grab onto Victoria's arms, holding her tightly as she struggles against them. Leaning close, he tilts her chin up with a cruel smile. "When you have had enough and beg for death's sweet release, only then will I consider clemency. But you will break, Victoria - they all do eventually." With that final threat, he leaves the room, leaving Victoria to a yet uncertain fate at the hands of his brutal enforcers.

    Victoria struggled and grunted slightly, trying to pull her arms away from the men as the suited man whose name she learnt was Max, had left. She writhed around and tried to pull away, glaring up at the two men and fighting as much as her weakened body could. The two burly men gripping Victoria pay no mind to her struggles, easily overpowering her feeble resistance. They half-drag, half-carry her down rickety stairs to the dark cellar, ignoring her complaints and attempts to get herself free from her restraints. Dim light illuminated two large silhouettes - Francisco and Leon, Max's most vicious enforcers. At the sight of their new 'guest', matching cruel smiles split their faces.

    "Well well, what do we have here boys?" Fransisco croons, running an obscenely large hand down Victoria's cheek, to which she pulls away as much as she could and grunts softly. Leon, on the other hand, circled around her like a predator, taking joy as he sensed the fear radiating from her. "Fresh meat! Max must be getting soft, letting us play with such a pretty thing." Leon purred.

    Fransisco pulled Victoria against his massive figure as the goons who delivered her departed, locking the heavy door behind them. Victoria is trapped alone with these monsters in a dark, underground cellar...

    "Where to start, I wonder." Francisco muses sadistically. "We've got all night to get acquainted." Leon's chilling laugh echoes off the stone walls as Victoria's nightmare is only just beginning. Victoria grunted and writhed around, attempting to push Francisco off with her restrained hands. She was injured and scared, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try and fight. "Get off. Don't touch me." She grunted and pulled away from them. Francisco merely roars with sadistic laughter at Victoria's feeble struggles. "Feisty little thing, aren't ya?" he chuckles, grabbing a fistful of her hair to yank her head back, watching as she let out a cry of pain and flinched back.

    Leon circles behind her once more, "Oh, I do enjoy when they fight back," he rasps into her ear before slashing two deep gouges down her exposed back with a hunting knife. Victoria shrieks in agony as blood wells from the wounds, but her cries fall on deaf ears and only serve to further arouse the sadists. "Music to my ears," Francisco growls, low and guttural.

    With another savage yank of her hair, he slams her onto the dirt floor. Leon is upon her in an instant, pinning down her flailing limbs as Fransisco begins to tear her undergarments to shreds with his thick fingers, leaving crimson trails where he touches her exposed flesh. "Tonight, you are our plaything, little bird," he purrs possessively, grinding his erection against her bloodied back. "And we love to play..." Victoria's terrified screams echoed endlessly in the dark pit of suffering. She screamed and cried out in pain, tears spilling out of her eyes and staining her face. She grunted as she was yanked to the ground, barely getting a moment to catch her breath before she was roughly being ravaged. She cried softly and tried to pull away, writhing as much as she could with the pain her back radiated. "G-Get off me you freaks!" She cried.

    Victoria's cries are lost amongst the hoarse guffaws and grunts of her captors as they defile her helpless body. Despite her struggles, she is no match for the strength and savagery of the sadistic brothers overpowering her. Francisco takes the blade from Leon's grip and drags its serrated edge along Victoria's exposed thigh, adding another crimson line to her ruined flesh. She screams afresh, writhing in agony, but the pain only serves to further fuel their depravity.

    "Such spirit, little dove," Fransisco groans against her tear-stained cheek as he forces himself inside her, earning another animalistic grunt of pleasure from Leon. "But you will sing for us before long..."

    They took turns violating her until Victoria faded into a state of dissociated trauma, her mind shutting down to escape the hellish reality being enacted upon her body. Blood and other fluids soak the dank, dirt floor, bearing grim witness to the unholy desecration taking place in Max's torture chamber. It had only just begun for Victoria, whose reliant will be broken before she sees another dawn.

    Morning inevitably fell upon her, bearing no positivity to Victoria's weakened and broken spirit, the look of determination she once held now nonexistent and bearing way to a broken and weak state. The cellar doors swung open with a horrible scraping noise, spilling harsh, artificial light into the dark pit. Max descended down the staircase casually, duster in hand to survey last nights 'work'. Fransisco and Leon stood over Victoria's broken form, wearing twin expressions of brutal satisfaction. Victoria laid in a twisted heap, unmoving except for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Blood and bruises mar her porcelain skin like a gruesome painting.

    Max tilted her head up with the duster, probing for signs of life. Seeing her eyes clouded and unfocused, he flashes an approving smile at his men. "Well done, gentlemen... It seems our pet has been sufficiently... Persuaded..." Turning back to Victoria, his tone sharpens to a business like coldness, "Now that cooperation is no longer an issue, we have work to discuss, Victoria." She does not respond, but he sees acknowledgement - and defeat - in her deadened gaze. Max pulled a vial from his pocket, grabbing her chin harshly and forcing her lips to part. "Drink, it will help the pain, if not the memories." Victoria swallowed reflexively, draining the bitter contents. Her eyes momentarily flickered up to him, never once moving. It seemed she still refused to help... But she wouldn't say it. She couldn't say it.

    Max's eyes narrowed at Victoria's lingering defiance, even in her broken state. Crouching before her, he grasps her face in an iron grip, ignoring the fresh bruises. "Do not test me further, Victoria," he hisses softly. "One word is all I require to unleash Francisco and Leon's creativity once more. And next time, they may not leave anything functional when done." Releasing her, he stands and smooths his tailored jacket. "Tomorrow, you will provide information I need to trap your husband. Refuse, and your suffering will be legendary." His tone is mild, but the threat hangs palpably in the stale air. Bending to retrieve the vial, Max pauses. "Sleep well, Victoria. Dream of what tomorrow will bring... For better, or much, much worse." With that parting shot, he pockets the vial and ascends, his footsteps echoing away and leaving Victoria alone in the suffocating dark once more.