Spirit of Shadows

| Chapter Nineteen |

* *mature content below. please read at your own risk. **

Em struggled against the man's strength as he pinned her down onto the velvety, plush bed. The curtains were drawn closed, only a sliver of light illuminated the room, shining against the small vanity's mirror. Em watched her reflection pale as the man released his hold on her wrists and slapped her across the face. She yelped in pain, her hand coming up to protect her face when he did it again.

She ended up biting her lip on that last attack and she could taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. When she had only held her hands up in defense, instead of wrestling around to push the man off of her, he released her arms. Em couldn't see them now in the dark but she could just imagine that they'd bruise within the next day or so. Turning into ugly black and blue marks across her skin.

The thought made her sick to her stomach as she tried to look anywhere but at the man towering above her. When he leaned in close to whisper some nasty things into her ear, she jerked, wanting her hand to come up and slap the man across the face like he did to her. Though, her hands did not come off the bed like she had hoped–her wrists were tied down to the rusty headboard with the belt the man had been wearing.

She desperately rolled around, trying to free her wrists before the man would come to his senses and pounce on her, leaving her unbearably defenseless.

No, I'm stronger than this. I can overcome it. Em thought to herself, watching as the drunken man stumbled about the room, searching for something.

Em desperately kicked herself around, her wrists bent at uncomfortable angles as she tried to shimmy out of the leather belt.

Come on! Come on! She screamed mentally at herself. She didn't want the full-fledged panic to sink in just yet, knowing it would paralyze her throughout the fiasco she was enduring.

Em bit her lip and watched as the man brushed his black hair back casually in the vanity mirror, his laugh bubbling up inside of him like a drunken sailor back from port. She didn't want to endure anything with this man, especially not what he had in mind...

So, with a painful flick of her wrist, she managed to pull it free from the leather belt cuffed to the headboard. With a yanking tug, she removed her other hand as well. Her wrists were screaming with leather-burn and if she looked at them in the light, they would've been an angry red and rubbed raw.

Just as Em stepped off the bed barefoot, her heels had ended up somewhere trampled across the room, the man flicked his gaze to her. In fact, he looked so surprised that Em thought he may have forgotten that he dragged her up there at all.

His scowl was lit up by the light streaming in from the small sliver of the curtain, his eyes were a foggy black, his pupils dilated dangerously.

"You're not going anywhere, pretty..." The man said, his breath stunk like a putrid skunk and Em's eyes began to water as he stepped closer to her. The scent wafting freely around her.

"I said I have another customer waiting!" Em tried, ignoring his scowls and look of amusement as she tried to shove her way past him.

The man grabbed her by the back of the neck and with a rough shove, she ended up back on the bed. Em was now beginning to panic full-fledged...

If only she had her dagger with her. If only Matthias hadn't suggested she go without it. But she knew that she never would've been able to enter if Hugo had seen it strapped across her waist. She cursed herself for not even slipping a small knife within the heels of her pumps. She looked around wildly for anything that may become a weapon once in her hands. The belt was stuck to the headboard, out of reach, and there were no loose pieces of clothing anywhere that could be tight enough to suffocate.