His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

45 Go To Hell

All I could see was the black muzzle of the gun, and just as I was ready to die, my father raised the hand that held the stone and smashed it at me.

A violent vertigo hit me suddenly. All the things in my mind have become blurred. A sticky liquid ran from my forehead to my cheek and I lost consciousness.

......

The pain from my cheek to my ear woke me, and a shadowy figure moved before my eyes. I tried to open my eyes, and then my vision became clear. My father was standing in front of me, and behind him was an empty plain. A humming noise surrounded me.

"Hello, my daughter!" My father forced my face up and looked at me in the eye.

His dark eyes seemed to turn into sharp daggers, and they could kill me at any moment. He sank his fingers into my cheek muscles with hatred, and spoke in a low, cold voice.

"Listen, I think I've been kind enough to you. But instead of being grateful, you tried to kill me. I should throw you in the slum with another b.astard and leave you to rot in the gutter forever."

I tried to free my face from his hands, but his hands were clinging to my face like iron tongs. I found myself handcuffed to a wheelchair and unable to move, with a piece of tape over my mouth.

"You will go to a place called Pudding Island, where men treat women like animals. When you get there, you'll know what the real hell is. The men there don't know what mercy is, and they won't stop f.ucking women until they bleed. I want you to watch with your eyes how you left the city. Your fear of the unknown will eat away at you. When you are thrown into the gutter, you will regret what you have done. You will want to beg my forgiveness. But it's too late. The moment you leave this city, I will declare you dead. Your name will be lost forever! Everyone who knows you will forget you! This is my punishment for you! Remember, as a woman, you should never challenge a man's authority! A woman is always a man's appendage! Forever!" He put his mouth near my ear, word for word, "Mickle Blanton, that was your real father's name!"

Mickle Blanton. I put the name in my mind at that moment!

"Take her away!" My father shouted in the direction behind me. "You must keep her awake all the way!"

Then two burly bodyguards came and wheeled me towards the helicopter. I struggled but to no avail. I couldn't tear the strong handcuffs off even if there was blood on my wrists.

Two bodyguards carried my wheelchair directly to the plane seat. One of the bodyguards was sitting next to me. Then the cabin door closed and the plane slowly ascended. Through the plane's glass windows, I saw my father standing on the ground. He looked up at the plane with a cold smile in his dark eyes.

Nobody spoke in the cabin. I looked at the dark sky. The lights of the city are getting further and further away from my sight. I know I'm far away from the city where I have lived. When can I come back?

Fear of the unknown began to creep up on me like ants. Where was pudding island? I had never heard of it. But I also know that my father wouldn't just scare me. Pudding must be hell on earth!

The plane flew at a high altitude for nearly an hour before it began to descend. The bodyguard sitting next to me took the injection and a glass tube containing a clear liquid from his coat pocket.

"Don't worry, it won't kill you at all." The bodyguard bared his yellow teeth. "You'll lose the ability to fight back, but you'll still be clear-headed!"

The needle went into the vein of my wrist, and soon I felt a numbing sensation that quickly engulfed every corner of my body. Even though my mind was still clear, my body was weak and I couldn't help but tilt my head to one side.

When the plane landed, the bodyguards pushed me out of the cabin. I saw a freighter moored at the edge of the pier, the tide churning against the shore. Two short men in gray t-shirts were standing on the dock looking over.

Two bodyguards pushed me in front of the two men, and one of them unlocked my handcuffs with a key. He violently pulled me out of the wheelchair, and my legs were so weak that I could barely stand. But he couldn't care less. He pushed me into the arms of a dark-haired man.

"The goods are here!" said the bodyguard.

"Is she hurt?" The black-haired man pushed the hair from my forehead with his hand. He had a necklace around his neck that looked like it was made of dog teeth.

"It's hard to get a good price!"

"At least her v.agina still works!" The bodyguard took out a wad of US dollars from his clothes and handed it to the man. "This is your reward! The boss specifically told me to let her be f.ucked to death on Pudding Island!"

I spat in the bodyguard's face as hard as I could, but only on his coat. The bodyguard glances down at the white mark of drool on his black coat and his fist follows as he raises his head.

"Hey, we want her alive," said the short man standing next to the dark-haired man, blocking the bodyguard with his hand, speaking in a strange English accent. "You can kill her with one punch! Karr, get her on the boat!"

The black-haired man tugged at my wrist as I walked toward the boat. My legs went weak, and every step I took was like stepping on a cloud. I almost fell to the ground, and the black-haired man tugged at my wrist and pulled me onto the boat.

He pulled me down the stairs to a hatch. There were two dark-skinned men with guns standing in the doorway, their faces fierce and oily.

"Stay in there!" The man opened the door and pushed me in.

A sultry stench struck and I was pushed to the floor. The room was dimly lit and there were many women sitting on the floor, most of them scarred. As soon as the strange women saw me, they all moved away and tried to keep their distance from me, as if I had some kind of infectious disease.

What is this place, and why are there so many wounded women here? I tried to sit up with my hands on the floor, but the anesthesia had not completely gone and I felt powerless.

"Hey, watch it!" A woman in blue jeans kicked me in the back with her foot. "Get away from me!"

I struggled to climb into a corner, when a pair of hands from behind me helped me up, and when she dragged me to the corner, I saw her look.

Her face was thin and sunken, her eyes were tired and black, and her white clothes were stained with the color of earth. She leaned me against the wall and pulled a shabby blanket over me.

"Where is this ship going?" I asked in a weak voice.

The woman lowered her head, her eyes desperate.

"Hell!" She said.