His Violet Wolf

Chapter Eighteen

Warning, this chapter gets a little violent, so I'm sorry about that.

Adelaide

The cold surrounded me, choked me until I fought for each breath that rasped through my parted lips. The concrete floor, stained through with my blood and the blood of those before me, was underneath me. There were no beds, no toilets, no windows. Just a cage of concrete with one door. The door that I wished would never open.

There was no light. I was constantly bathed in darkness, the shapes that formed out of black comforted me, even if they weren't real. The only time I get to see light, was when I had a visitor. My only visitor.

I felt numb, completely and utterly empty. It was as if someone had taken out everything there was inside me, and tossed the pieces into the corner of my freezing cell. The only things I felt were my constant shivering, my stomach closing in on itself, and my brain slowly shutting down from lack of contact other than pain.

I was sitting in the corner of my cell, my head against the freezing wall, my thin arms wrapped around the knees that were currently pulled to my chest, when I saw the light. I didn't know wether to feel joy at seeing something other than darkness, or dread at what I knew was coming.

I heard laughter, his laughter. It echoed through the small room, bounced off the hard walls, surrounded me with his evil. He was approaching, I heard his footsteps. I refused to look at him, choosing to stare ahead of me blankly, my expression reflecting the emptiness I felt spreading inside me. The feeling of self loathing and desolation increased when he was near.

When he was this close I can smell the scent that I had come to love and enjoy, the scent that I found comfort in for years. The memories I had with him had been sweet and sentimental, they were something I should have never forgotten. But now they hid themselves in my mind, while being replaced by the new memories of pain he created everyday.

"You look like shit, love." He said, chuckling to himself. I didn't respond, only continued looking ahead of me. I knew this pissed him off, maybe he would finally end it.

Maybe if I made him angry enough, he would finally beat me until I died.

I knew that was a long shot, for he had been growing hesitant, distant. The beatings don't last for as long anymore, his punches and slaps, his kicks and chokes aren't as strong. It puzzled me, why wouldn't he just let me die?

I felt dead already, if only he would seal the deal.

"Well, you already know what's coming. Let's get started shall we?" He asked, almost gleeful. He clapped his hands together, and rubbed them on one another. I stared blankly ahead, bracing myself for the pain.

The first punch was thrown at my left cheek, I felt bone shatter from underneath his fist, but I did not flinch. I was numb. Cold and numb.

The second was a kick to the shins that were vulnerable underneath my small arms. I didn't move, not even when I heard a loud crack. He kept going, getting his anger out on my already broken shin.

"Why wont you respond! Look at me!" Another kick, another punch. I still stared blankly ahead.

His hand wrapped around my throat, cutting of the breath that was so desperate to get out. I didn't move, just stared at the tips of my fingers that had oddly gotten tingly, and were turning a faint purple. His claws dug into the already delicate flesh of my neck, drawing blood from the sides. I didn't flinch, not even when the blood poured from the open wounds, down to my already soaked shirt.