girl almighty // s. stilinski [1]

hiding something

warning: this chapter includes non-graphic descriptions of rape

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How did she get here?

Gray, cement walls surround her as a single light bulb swings in the middle of the dim room, particles of dust floating through the visible light. The absence of windows allows for no extra illumination, and one door stands tall on the opposite wall from her, an array of locks lining up above the knob.

Bea shivers on the lumpy mattress she has been carelessly thrown on in the corner of the familiar room, a raggedy blanket her only source of warmth between the cold walls. For the life of her, she cannot seem to remember how she had ended up here, almost as if all her memories have been wiped clean from her mind.

The girl stands from the uncomfortable mattress, wrapping the stringy blanket around her shoulders. Her legs wobble as she takes a small step forward toward the door, obviously not having been provided with the correct amount of food substantial for strength. However, her movements are restrained by a cold, metal cuff secured around her ankle. Looking down, she observes the rusty old restraint against her skin, a chain link leading to the wall next to her mattress.

There is no way out.

She cannot move. There is nothing in her presence to help break herself free. No tools. No windows. All the locks are only accessible from the outside. There is no way out.

With a defeated sigh, the girl sits back down on her mattress, wondering how she had ended up here. She cannot remember a time where she was not trapped in this room. Where have all her memories gone?

Suddenly, she hears loud footsteps from behind the door, sounding like someone is walking down a flight of wooden stairs with large boots. Seconds later, she hears the clicking and rattling as the locks become unlocked one by one, leading to the last one on the door knob.

The large door swings open to reveal a sizable figure, much bigger than herself. Slamming the door shut behind him, the male walks further into the room, smirking as the redhead winces at the loud sound.

He has a long beard that goes to his collar bone, dark brown in color. However, the hair left on his head is fading to gray in some spots, others the same color as his beard. He is very tall, almost as tall as the door to the room. Six feet, at least. A plaid shirt covers his shoulders which strains against the muscles of his arms, paired with denim jeans. Heavy working boots are wrapped around his feet, the source of the loud footsteps.

As the man approaches her small body, stepping into the light, Bea gets a better look at his face. His large nose. His crooked teeth. His dull, green eyes.

Her sapphire eyes widen as she recognizes the man before her, his grimy, hairy hands lowering to the buckle of his belt, working to undo the leather strap. Suddenly, her heartbeat is in her throat, fear pulsing through her veins as the memories all come rushing back to her in an instant.