Friends, Slaves, and Nightmares

45: Master's Little House

It was a two story house. The little run-down house was in the middle of no where. There was only a dirt road, and it must have led to somewhere after it vanished into the surrounding woods. Or maybe it didn't. She was never allowed to go down it, and never risked it, so she didn't know. Only a handful of gnarled black trees stood to accompy the house. Unmaintained yellow grass surrounded the little old house. Occasionally, a slight breeze carried a sweet scent with it. Maybe it was flowers, hidden in the distant woods.

Inside, everything was a bit darker. Everything seemed to find a way to creak or groan from its own old age, as if protesting its own exsistance. At least it wasn't all so dirty aymore. Mina had made sure of that. It was her chore. Everything had to be kept clean and tidy. Or else...

How much time had gone by? A few days, maybe a week? It didn't matter. All she had to do was stay quiet, out of their way, and do her chores. And sometimes, if she was lucky, they decided not to hurt her. Mina just didn't want to hurt any more. They always seemed to find a reason to bring out that leather whip. There was always an explanation for the slaps, punches, shoves, and other missuse she was put through. And she learned not to protest. Voicing her opinion or protestinf was just another reason for them to hurt her.

After the intial mark she had received a brutal 43 lashes. She knew it was 43, no more and no less, because she had been forced to count every single one after the starting lash. Just as Damion had said, she had been allowed a day to rest and recover. Though it felt like several hours between her passing out and then trying to sleep off the pain.

The letters and lashes still hurt. Despite however long it had been, the mark was deep enough to still bring her pain. It served as a constant reminder to how much pain they could inflict upon her.

"You're friends have forgotten about you by now slave. They don't need someone as worthless as you around anyways." Pitch's voice snapped Mina from her task at hand. She had been cleaning the floor with a wet rag and bucket of soapy water.

This was a statement she had heard multiple times. At first, she didn't believe it. She had clung to the hope of rescue. Several days had gone by and then she began to really think he was right. But now.. Now it didn't matter. She was a slave. She was here and she had to do chores so she wouldn't get hurt. Just make it through one more day, that is all that mattered.

 "Yes m-master.." Mina spoke numbly. It was an automatic response now. 

"Now that's a good little slave.." Pitch spoke sweetly, like he was praising a puppy dog who performed a new trick correctly. "Oh, and I found more glass upstairs. Finish here and go take care of it."

"Y-Yes master.." Mina numbly replied again. Her hands were still covered with cuts from the last time she had to pick up the shards of glass from one of the many broken windows. She thought she had already cleaned up all the glass. Then again, it was probably Pitch purposely ruining shomething so she had more work to do and more reasons to hurt her.

She quietly stood up and slinked upstairs without complaint. Seraching for the broken window proved easy, the glistening shards of glass caught her attention and revealed the location of the broken window. It was in a room that no one used, yet she had previously cleaned. It still had a strange stench to the room that Mina had not found the source or been able to get rid of. It caused Pitch and Damion not to use the room, and she was punished for the fowl smell.

The floor boards creaked slightly as she crossed the distance between her and the window then dropped to her knees by the shards of glass. Ever so carefully, she picked up the shard of glass with her bare hands and threw them outside the window. Howerver, she was not perfect. The shards would slip and slice her palm or she would grab the piece of glass by it's edge and cut her fingertips. The most difficult part was the smaller shards. With no good options, she attempted to gently push the tiny fradments into her palm. It always resulted in cuts.

By the end of it, her hands were bleeding with multiple cuts, some of which had fine fragments stuck inside and caused the wound to sting. Not once did she make a sound of pain. It didn't hurt that much to her anymore.

"Slave!! Get down hereee!" Pitch yells up the stairs, his voice slurred now.

Dread squeeze Mina's heart. She didn't know where they got the alcohol but it didn't much matter. They got it, drank it, and were even more erratic and harsh on here... What did they have planned now?

"Y-yes m-master!" Mina responded after a pause and hurried down the stairs.

Pitch had miraculously found a way to get tipsy, maybe even borderline drunk, in the short amount of time Mina was upstairs. He leaned against the wall at the bottom of the staircase, a warward smile plastered to his face. In his hand he held a glass bottle filled with one of the various alcoholic drinks he enjoyed. "Heeyyy thhere." The words tripped out of his mouth. He lurched forward and took a few wobbly steps towards Mina.

Damion stood by, looking even more far gone than Pitch. "We're wonderin'.." Damion paused a moment to twirl his hand through the air dramatically and release a slightly burp, "What a drunk slave looks like!" He smiles and slumped into a nearby chair.

Mina's eyes widened slightly. She had never had a drink in her life, and planned to keep it that way. "Y-you shouldn't waste y-your drinks on me.." She took a few steps back.

"We can spare a few!" Pitch declared and reached forward, grabbing Mina's forearm. "Just onee bottle, then wee'll laugh as you flop around." A dumb grin sat on his lips. He reached over to where a new bottle rested and grabbed it.

She wasn't going to get a choice. He never gave her a choice. Her punishment, fear, and anxiety never seemed to find an end. It never ended. The only times she got a break was when she was shut up in that empty, dark closet. Living the life that she did now, the corner of the closet on the wooden floor looked awful nice for a bed.

<><><><><>

It had taken a while, and every minute waiting had made David want to scream, but he was better now. It had taken roughly a week but he had recovered from being a blood slave. Kevin carefully helped David rise to his feet. 

"You feel dizzy anymore?" Kevin asked

"Not one bit." David replied quickly, "Now, have you been able to track down Mina?"

Kevin's gaze drifted to floor and he silently shook his head. "Katey, Trix, and Figure are all out looking David. We're going to find her." He lifted his head up to look at David.

Kevin never admitted it, but David could imagine he felt guilty. He was the one with Mina when she was taken. Shouldn't he have been able to protect her? Maybe he could have stopped Pitch under different circumstances. But the truth was, Mina was gone, Kevin saw her be taken, and no one knew where she was.

The weight of reality came and crushed David's tiny seed of hope. Mina had been on her way to visit him after he had woken up. He never got to see her face though, and who knew if he'd ever see her again. Pitch and Damion were insane and unpredictable... Maybe she was already dead. He couldn't bring himself to believe that. She could not be dead. She just... can't. At least now he could join in the search for her.

"..Let's look for her then. There has to be something you've over looked. Something a fresh pair of eyes can-" David's words were cut off as Trix walked out of a wall, a look of dread on her face.

Trix opened her mouth and spoke, "We found her."