Hope among the ruins (EN) ✅

Chapter 25

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Trigger Warning: This chapter contains scenes that some readers may find morally disturbing. If you are particularly sensitive to such content, you may wish to skip this section or simply turn a blind eye to the events depicted here.

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I said nothing. I merely swallowed hard and stared at him with wide, astonished eyes.

He stepped back for a moment, but then suddenly closed the distance again, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Did you understand me?" he shouted, his voice bordering on hysterical.

"Yes."

The moment I answered, the fair-haired German finally released me and walked toward the edge of the cliff. He stood right at the precipice. One more step, and he would have plunged into the abyss below.

A thought flashed through my mind.

Without stopping to consider the consequences, I lunged forward, snatched up a rock about the size of my fist from the ground, and brought it down against the back of his head.

The stone slipped from my hand.

Before I could react, I found myself trapped in the soldier's grasp. My back was pressed tightly against his solid chest. One arm held me in an iron grip, while the other pressed a pistol against my temple. His hot, ragged breath hissed into my ear, filling me with disgust.

"I warned you," he whispered through clenched teeth.

I could feel his body trembling—tense, restless—as though every part of him longed to pull the trigger. In his arms, I began to shake as well, though I hoped my face still looked as hard and unyielding as stone.

"I don't care," I spat. "No one tells me what I have to do."

"I'm trying to save your life, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'd rather die than spend the rest of my life with you. You haven't even told me your name."

"And why would you care what my name is? Planning to marry me?"

"You're disgusting."

"Yes, I am. And you're nothing but an American and British whore, which makes me wonder even more what Toby ever saw in you," he sneered, still grinding his teeth together, flecks of saliva striking my cheek as he spoke. "Then again, maybe it's not so surprising. Trash like you is exactly his type."

"That should be the least of your concerns," I shot back.

"Really?" he asked.

Without warning, he dropped the pistol onto the ground.

Then he spun me around to face him and, with several forceful strides, shoved me backward until my body slammed against the rock face. The rough stone bit painfully into my skin. He grabbed at my shirt, tearing at the fabric, and the instant I realized what he intended to do, I fought back.

I struggled to break free even after he hastily pulled down his trousers and lifted my skirt. I tried to drive my knee into his groin, but every attempt failed.

Instead of finding the strength to keep resisting, I went still.

He forced me down onto the uneven ground, and as he assaulted me, his harsh breathing filled the air. There was satisfaction on his face, but contempt as well. I couldn't bear to look at the pleasure he took in violating me.