Pain.
Endless, never-ending, circulating pain that radiated throughout my entire body, throwing all of my senses left and right into seizures of agony. Nausea rippled in my gut, which overtime escalated to the sensation of claws digging into my flesh and yanking out my entrails. I threw back my head and screamed until my vocal chords felt like they were tearing. I was somewhere dark and slightly cold, but I was sweating profusely and felt like I was being cooked above a pit of fire. Every breath I took felt tight and strained, I felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen and started to heavily hyperventilate.
I turned my head into my damp arm and whimpered.
"You were right, brother. Her body and skin are still too sensitive to be cleaned," a deep, smooth voice said. I licked my lips. My hearing was so delicate that they throbbed agonizingly and pounded with blood at the sound of his voice. Nevertheless, I wanted to hear that voice again..and again...and again.
"I can't just leave her all bloody like this..."
Him again. My body was thrown into a fit of excited, wild convulsions as the voice got closer. I yanked against straps against my wrists and my ankles, viciously ripping away at my own skin to try and be freed and leaving raw, bloody flesh behind.
"Pepper? She's awake."
I tried to open my eyes but felt like two giant sumo wrestlers were sitting them, jumping up and down and high fiving each other.
"Pepper, it's Sin. Can you hear me?"
Sin. The voice belonged to Sin Trinidad, aka my psychotic Creative Writing teacher. Great. I prayed that he hadn't seen those hip thrusts.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Pepper. Nobody's going to hurt you. You're safe here."
Safe. My body relaxed a little bit. I struggled to pry my heavy eyelids open, and immediately felt like I was hung over, Someone's head was blocking my path, slowly I began to make out masculine features through my blurred vision. Straight nose, full lips, slightly curled brown hair, stubble framing their angular jaw. I watched his lips with a frown as they continued to move, producing strange sounds that appeared to go in and out between words that I could understand and words that I didn't understand at all. Was he even speaking English? I could have sworn that last word he had said was Japanese...
My eyes slowly lowered to Sin's tight grey t-shirt, medium washed jeans, and tan work boots, then back up until my eyes rested on his neck. I licked my lips.
"I don't think she's listening to me," Sin said. "Has her hearing not developed correctly?"
"No, she can hear you," a man replied much further away. My head immediately whipped to the side, following the other voice. This one was rough and deep, it had the same effect on me as Sin Trinidad's voice. It was Hunter, Sin's twin.
"Her chains lightly hit the wall with every word that you said. I believe she's just hungry and can't focus well," Hunter continued.
A sharp pain shot up my spine. "Grrkk," I moaned.
"Shh, kitten. I know it hurts. We'll give you medicine if it gets worse." Hunter knelt on the ground, about the same distance away from me as Sin. Just out of my reach. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?" he asked.
YOU ARE READING
How to Be Cliche (A Novel)
HumorCli·ché: a phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays a lack of original thought. Meet Pepper Ballard. Independent, single, and sarcastic as hell. Pepper fights her own battles with pride and is officially #done with clichés. Unshaven werewolves...