Valor

Chapter 16

"Hold her down! Someone get her arms!"

I can barely comprehend the words coming out of the man's mouth as I scream and fight as hard as I can. As I open my mouth again to let our a mix of curses, someone stuffs something into my mouth inevitably shutting me up.

There are hands on my wrists and ankles, holding me down to the floor, and no matter how hard I try to fight back, they're just too strong.

I never wanted any of this; all I ever wanted was to keep Sarah safe, but that means nothing anymore. He killed her. He killed dad. He took me.

I don't know why I'm fighting anymore, it's not like there's anything left of me. Marco told me he was going to break me, but doesn't he see I'm already broken? I didn't realize the kind of man my dad was doing business with was this bad–not until i was chained to a basement wall that Marco's lackeys called 'the butchery.'

He has what seems like hundreds of men that work for him. I have not seen the same face twice since the first day I was brought here a few months ago. Marco shows up about once a week, making sure I am still alive, but other than that he doesn't say much.

"Whores like you deserve to get punished." One of them men holding me down says. I can smell his breath from here, a mix of alcohol tainting the air. I want to gag, but the t shirt in my mouth prevents anything from coming out other than my own whimpers.

Suddenly, the feeling of cool metal runs along my cheek and I can't stop the tears from flowing. I close my eyes tightly, and pray for whatever it is that is going to happen, it happens quickly.

The blade drags along my cheek and neck, down to my collarbone. The metal presses down along my chest, and I can feel as soon as it nicks the skin, the warmth of my blood a big contrast to the cool feeling of the room.

The blade continues down, sliding along the center of my shirt, slicing it with little to no difficulty. As the scraps of my t shirt fall away, the bitter chuckles of the men in the room become more audible.

The feel of their hands on my body ignites something terrifying within me. I can feel their eyes roaming over my exposed skin, salivating at it like a hungry animal.

I try my best to squirm under their grasp, begging for some form of physical coverage to hide form these vultures.

Of course, the coverage doesn't come, in fact the blade goes even lower, cutting my panties off in one swift move. That gets another round of aroused chuckles, and the tears continue to pour out of my eyes.

I've never felt so alone in my entire life. Here I lay, on a cement floor, with five men standing over me, looking at my fourteen year old body as if it's the best thing they've ever seen. Their free hands roam along my curves, skimming across the small cuts the blade left.

I can smell the copper of my blood as one man drags his finger through it, almost using it to paint a pretty picture on my skin.

Suddenly, the chuckling stops abruptly, making me snap my eyes open.

"Boss." The men say in unison, a slight tinge of fear in the air.

Marco.

I know for a fact that I'm not the only one in this room who is afraid of him. He rules with fear, and he's doing a very good job.

The look in his eyes is what scares me the most. Marco is very good at hiding his psychopothy, but in this instance he is letting it out full fource which is no doubt the main reason the men in the room feel so scared.

The main man steps aside, making room for Marco as he looms above me. He's dressed in his normal suit, the smell of his cologne is almost worse than the men's breath from before.

"Lilah." Marco says, his voice a cool calculation of intent. My naked body shivers under his gaze and I try to scream behind the mouthful of material in my mouth. I thrash around as hard as I can against the men's hold, fighiting as hard as I can. This can't be the way it ends. This can't be the image that becomes seared in my brain whenever I look at my naked body.

The smell of sweat, blood, and alcohol overhwlems my body only making me struggle more.

Marco obviously doesn't appreciate my disobedience because he backhands me a few times across the face to the point that my head feels like it's spinning. My body then lays limp on the floor, trying to regain it's balance and place my thoughts back in the correct folder.

Marco smiles like the devil and brings his hands down to his pants, slowly undoing the button and zipper before leaning further over me, scanning my body with hungry eyes.

His hands glide across my face, down my neck and along my chest.

"My sweet Lilah," he hums, his hands still taking in every inch of my skin, "You'd breed well, you know that?"

I let out a pathetic whimper at his disgusting words. I have to get out of here, I can't do this anymore. I cant. I start to panic, but almost as if my body and mind know what's going to happen, they shut off. My body relaxes into the feeling of the concrete and my mind drifts off until the world around me becomes a hazy mess.

The last thing I feel is Marco's large hand splaying across my abdomen, holding me in place as my very own nightmare descends into reality.