Etched in Skin

1. "I'm Sorry"

The blood dripped from the walls, making the dark medical room smell damp and like death itself. It alone could brings tears to the eyes of the strongest men. Blood covered the multiple medical tools and the ceiling. On hooks were chains latched onto the roof, pulled tight by the large shape of plastic tied to the other end. The plastic wasn't doing it's job perfectly since below the lumpy shapes were pools of blood. Big enough for a vampire to have a full on feist. It was the definition of a torture den. And that's what was happening to her.

Her clothes were nothing but rags. Most of it gone and showing nothing but bare skin underneath. Miles and miles of bare skin. Most of it sliced in half and left open to drain her. The blood had clotted and created these huge welts over her body. A mixture of pus from infections and blood from the sliced arteries. She had her own pool of blood below her. She could feel the fresher cuts and slices draining her of her life force and stinging from the acids that covered her body. Her eyes were pouring out every bit of salty moisture she had in them at rapid speed. Her lungs and throat were dying from all the screaming she had been doing for the past four days. The wooden chair ached under the constant adjustment and struggle to get out of it. She hopped to the lord that it would break eventually. The zip ties were cutting into her wrists and the tips of her fingers were turning a dark, unhealthy purple.

She panted lightly. Her body didn't even feel the cool air around her anymore. She couldn't feel much after day two. Just the blood dripping from her jaw and fingertips. Nothing hurt. Nothing but her pride and her spirit. Her head shot up at the sound of his irregular footsteps. He wasn't in her sights yet but she could tell he was pissed. He always did his worst when he was drunk and upset.

"Please. Just let me go." She mumbled, hanging her head again. His steps made their way closer to her, the sound of a revolver being loaded making her heart race further. He was going to kill her. There was no doubt about that.

He stepped into her view, lifting her jaw and squeezed it roughly. "What?" He growled, only to crush her jaw further. "Are you scared? Terrified? Good. Stupid girls like you deserve to be." He tossed her head to the side, sliding onto her lap and pressing his gun against the bottom of her jaw, making her tears stream faster. "You know I loved you right? You were my everything. Mine." He moved closer to her and pressed his lips against her neck, running his hand up her bare side to her bare breast. He pressed his thumb into the centre, biting at her neck and pushing against it with more force.

She let out a weak yelp, the sound quickly turning into a sob. "You were always mine." He chuckled, running his hand down her body again. His lips were poison on her skin and his fingers were too cold for her not to feel them. After a few minutes of non consensual rubbing and helpless sobs of what was left of her body he stood up. His full height intimidating her quickly. He was about 6'4 and about as wide as the typical jock. Even if he didn't play any sports. It had always amused her at how much muscle he had without actually going out. Guess this answers the question.

"But you threw me out like I was trash. You need to be punished." He spun the single action revolver in his hands, his bloodshot sunken eyes hardening onto her for the first time ever. They had always been soft and creepy. That alone scared her. But now this terrified her.

"Please." She whispered. It was all her body had the energy to do. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did that to you. Just let me go. I won't tell anyone." The hard chair that she sat in suddenly lifted up, throwing her forward and making the zip ties even tighter. She let out a yelp of pain and fell limp, her entire being just not having the energy to actually sit up anymore.

She looked behind her slowly to see a familiar tuff of black hair. Saying his name was difficult. Nothing came out. Just a pathetic wheeze. He started to move forward, her eyes following the direction of where he was walking. They made their way to a shooting range, with straps to hold someone in place on the target. She attempted to shake the chair out of the man's arms, her voice suddenly filling the air with a nearly ear piercing scream. Probably the last one she could let out for the next three years. If she survived this anyway.

They had made it to the target and she was set down onto solid ground again, only to be unstrapped from the chair and onto the target. The brooding male made his way over to the gun rack, and selected a slick black rifle. She could recognise the military arm from a mile away. Her uncle used to have guns like that from when he was in the army. Almost exactly like the M8A1 Assault Rifle in this traitor's hands. She stood there - if you could call it that - sobbing and calling out for help. Anyone who wasn't those two maniacs who she thought were her friends.

The man in front her stepped behind the counter and passed the weapon to his boss.. She knew it wouldn't take long for the bullet to lodge into her heart, or head, and kill her. She could even fell the point of where he aimed as he tried to figure out her biology and where it would be the most painful and lethal shot.

Light sieved through the dark room and beams of red light were pinned on all three of them. The target chipped near her wrist as one of her rescuers tried to free her one hand from the distance. Everything was going in slow motion, the dodging of bullets and the man running towards her to save her. He suddenly collapsed to the side and everything started to speed up again, her blood included.

"No!" She screamed out, her voice only getting weaker from here. Suddenly the wood beside her head exploded and she had to turn away to avoid having wooden splinters in her eyes. Someone had shot at the target, making it shatter and giving a huge hole beside her. Something had in fact gotten into her eye and she had to blink vigorously to try and get it out. Her vison had become blurry, everything around her becoming shapes. She glances around, seeing dark, menacing shapes creep towards her, checking her out. She was toast.

Something grabbed onto her wrist, pulling off the leather around her wrists and ankles. They had her. And were going to kill her like a poor sick animal that had no chance of survival. She slammed onto the ground and opened her mouth to let out a yelp of pain, only to have nothing but blood and air come out.

Whatever freed her had completely disregarded her again. She had never felt so relieved to be thrown onto the ground in such a forceful manner. The chair she was strapped to earlier shattered, cutting her skin but she couldn't care less. It must have been shot or something. The target behind her made a crashing sound as it fell backwards onto the concrete below. She looked up at the wooden circle, a huge hole in the wood around where he head would have been. There was even on in the centre where her head was. A police officer was standing over her, shooting at her kidnappers. 

Suddenly he froze, blood was trickling down the front and back of his head. She let out a scream as he fell down on top of her, pushing him off. She was alone. In the middle of a war. She looked to the dark tuft of hair, he was shooting from behind an empty chemical barrel. The leader was on the other side of the room, shooting from behind a pillar. He looked over to her, a sickening smile growing on his face as he aimed his gun at her.

His eyes trailed down to her wrist, practically eating up her looks. It made her feel sick to the stomach. His dark, bloodshot eyes felt foreign on her body, even if she had felt it too many times before. She watched him, her heart deciding to start making its own imbalanced beat. She was a hundred and ten percent sure that he could see it through her torn red stained shirt. His lips started moving, but she couldn't tell what he was saying. He was too far away for her to hear him. And she was too afraid of the weapon staring at her heart. She looked down at her wrist as something lodged through her abdomen.

I love you.

Realisation hit her like a brick. Everything he had said making sense to her now. She had been his this whole time. She just didn't know it. She left him. She looked up at him, the world going black.Her eyes welled up, whispering to him. "I'm sorry." She knew he couldn't hear him. All she could see now was him, angrily shooting back at the authorities. This was it. This was her death. She had just found her soulmate too. But he shot her. The heartless psychopath

She collapsed. The blood leaking out of her as the firing of automatic weapons dulled out of her ears. All eyes were on the dying girl. Or the dead girl. He just laughed. His eyes filled with fire and destruction. Two gunshots echoed through the empty warehouse, cutting his laughter short. He looked down to his abdomen. A dark read patch started to slowly expand through his light grey shirt. It was covered in blood stains already, but this one started to consume it. His eyes narrowed and he clutched his side, screaming out curses and swearing his revenge. Not that he could get it when he was dead anyway. His accomplice was already dead. Shot through the head.