Valor

Chapter 52

"Oh come on! You can do better than that!" I say as I let a manical laugh bubble from my blood stained lips. After the first few hits, the pain disappeared and was replaced by seething anger.

Anger at Marco's random henchmen for following his orders to beat the shit out of me.

Anger at myself for falling back into this hellhole.

I spit out a mouth full of blood onto the concrete, and let a psychotic smile grace my face. My teeth are no doubt covered in blood, as is the rest of my face. I can't help but feel like Kai in this moment, imagining his bloodlust filled eyes as he traced the blood on my body.

The man snarls in front of me, backhanding me across the face and throwing me to the ground making me groan as I grip my ribs.

This man has been specific when it comes to my beatings. They don't go as hard to break any bones, but they put just enough force to make the ache chronic. He comes here all the time, it's exhausting.

I don't know how long I've been in this basement. I was knocked out not long after I got to Marco's house and transported to another location in which I was, unironically, put in the basement once again.

There hasn't been as much noise in this place as there was in Marco's place which makes me think that I've been taken somewhere secluded.

I hate that my first thought goes to the Valors.

This'll make it more difficult to find you.

I can almost hear Mav's annoyed voice ringing in my head, but perhaps it's just the ringing in my ears from the hit.

"Get up." The man grunts as he sends his foot flying into my side, making me groan and roll over onto my back, panting as I look up at the ceiling.

Everything here is cement.

I hate cement. It's cold and lifeless and for the longest time it was what I called home. Now that I've lived outside of this box, I can't stand being back here.

There's a dingy light hanging from the ceiling just outside the bars of my cell– they made sure it was far enough away where I couldn't even snag the string that clicked it on and off.

It was a bump to my ego to at least see that they were scared enough of what I could do.

Marco hasn't seen me once since he took me. After that first night, he made himself scarce, and I am extremely thankful for that.

Handling his cronies is easy, they get frustrated too easily when I talk back and after about ten minutes of pure anger they get tired and leave.

Mr Meanie in front of me is right near his end, his face red and his breaths labored.

When I make no move to get up, simply staring at the grey wall above me, the man kicks out his foot again, hitting the spot right below my ribs.

I cry out, gripping the spot as I feel my skin tear and blood seep out.

A few tears leave my eyes as I try to control the pain as it radiates down my body.

Whoever said that staying quiet during a torture session was insane. Being tortured hurts, and just because you scream and cry doesn't mean you break.

All it means is that it fucking hurts.

As my eyes finally blink past the pain, I see the smug grin on Mr. Meanie's face as he points to his shoe.

Along the side of his shoe are small pieces of glass that he no doubt aimed directly into my side. I want to growl at him and throw my fists like no other, but even turning my head right now hurts.