22
I was made blind by the awfully bright lights and the ceiling so white, as soon as my eyes opened.The sickening stench of lemon and bleach filled my nose. There were ropes tightly wrapped around my legs and wrists, tying me down firmly to a single pole in the center of the room. I couldn't move from the sitting position. My body already sore and my mouth was covered by a cloth, in a way that not a single syllable would leave my tongue. All I could do was analyse the situation and the pain in my limbs.
Not a single speck of dust was in sight nor furniture's crowding the room except for a table kept in the far end with tools. The mere presence of it was questionable so was the need of it.
"You're awake." A voice boomed from the speakers I now noticed hanging in the four corners.
Markus.
Pure wrath filled me.
The core memory of a sweet and caring cop replaced by a ruthless liar.
A monster.
Not a single word I tried to shout out was heard. My cries were muffled by the cloth.
Tears of agony threatened me, but I held it in. I was frustrated.
My heart thumped loudly in my ears and I prayed for the unnatural.
All my strength will only be wasted if I try to break the restrainments.
What's the use in trying?
But I was taught to never lose hope. All the days I spent with the cruel family of Luca's only made me much immune to hate, criticism and helplessness.
I was taught not to find a way, but to make one.
Patience.
The sole key to everything.
But it was now tainted with fear.
"Oh, now , Camila darling, don't panic." He laughed menacingly. The hysteria in it resounding and ringing straight in my ears. Until I wished I was deaf.
"I'm not Stephan, dear. To take sympathy and leave you from this golden cage."
"I won this, this game for which you were the prize I so longed for. So, darling, forget Stephan for I'm better than that love sick fellow."
"He would never find you."
You are wrong. I wanted to scream.
He'll come back for me.
He'll save me.
I'll never lose hope. I told myself. A silent promise.
Even if it's forever. I'll wait.
The door straight ahead of me opened. Revealing him. Equipped with a scissor in his gloved hands along with a bucket of white paint.
He kept the paint bucket in the corner, on the table with the tools.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
My heart followed his rhythmic strides. His features sticking me like a predator waiting to devour its prey.
When he was too close. Close enough that his cologne restricted my oxygen flow, he kneeled. His face inches away from mine. And then, he whispered.
"I'll give you a new life."
And grabbed a handful of my hair. Cutting it with the pair of scissors he held in his palms.
All the while my eyes penetrated his.
Kill him.
My mind chanted.
He forced my face down. Still busy cutting my long hair into shorter strands until there was nothing more to cut.
He walked back near the tool table and grabbed a mirror placed above it, walking back to me.
My gaze never left his.
He shoved the mirror in front of me. Forcing me to take in the art work he created on me.
My hairstyle matched his. Short and elegant.
Long on the top and shorter at the sides.
His palms found my cheek. Roughly guiding downwards to the top button of my shirt.
Disgust churned in my stomach. Vomit struck in my throat, i tried to wriggle free of his grasp making him clutch on to my throat with brute force. The edges of my vision were already blackening. But my resistance to his touch never decreased a bit. I thrashed my legs out in hopes of distancing him away from me. But he kept moving his hands down till the last button. Popping out each of them.
He increased the force applied on my neck and soon my consciousness was dripping down.
"Sleep, darling" i heard him whisper.Disgust churned in my stomach. Vomit struck in my throat, i tried to wriggle free of his grasp making him clutch on to my throat with brute force. The edges of my vision were already blackening. But my resistance to his touch never decreased a bit. I thrashed my legs out in hopes of distancing him away from me. But he kept moving his hands down till the last button. Popping out each of them.
He increased the force applied on my neck and soon my consciousness was dripping down.
"Sleep, darling" i heard him whisper.
"DON'T WORRY. THE AUTHOR AIN'T DEAD."
-Aloysius
YOU ARE READING
De Luca
RomanceStephan Alphonso De Luca a ruthless, cold hearted and powerfull CEO. Grown up in a society where he would get what he wanted. Strong willed and unwavering decisions. But rather someone who's a sinner. Camila D'mello, a new craving journalist with pa...
