Trust From Within - Book 3 Daughter of a Monster Series

Chapter 23- Repeated Pain

Slowly, my eyes open, blurry surroundings and far away sounds greet me, a filter of smudge over everything. I feel a burning in my wrists, groaning as I know it's Imorphia. Dammit.

But I can't feel my bonds, and that's what's scaring me the most.

I can't feel Nathan. Or Dad.

With a groan and a pounding headache, I sit up, chains clanking around my wrists. Where the fuck am I?

"Well well, if it isn't Miss Magical, was hoping you would wake up soon," a sneering voice says from outside the cell I'm in. Except, I know we aren't underground, I can feel that.

We must be out in the country, or, at least on the outskirts of town. Light finds its way to the ground, spilling across the dirt and concrete, highlighting the dust in the air. I look around me and see hay, blood on the ground; some of it mine, and wooden planks surrounding me. I must be on a farm somewhere, or in a stable. Why am I not dead?

"Y'know, you have worn me thin. Taken my man, my one true love, and ripped him away from me. You've brought him into literal hell and indoctrinated him into your fucked up little cult, without his consent. You murderer worshippers think you can brainwash him, and for the most part, you have. But I'm getting my boy back, and if I have to kill you in the process, I will do it with a smile on my face."

"I'm really sick of these villain monologues, can you just get on with it already?" I snipe out towards her. Seriously, if she's going to kill me, just get on with it.

"You little bitch," I hear her snarl, the cell door swinging open and a light blob walking towards me, and then I feel a sharp pain in my cheek.

She slapped me.

Finally, my vision clears up, and I look up at her to see a class A looking bitch. Bleached, blonde hair sits atop her head in some sort of puffed up 'style', that makes her look like a beehive. A red leather jacket and black and white checkered crop top half cover her torso, exposing her lack of hips and belly button. A low hanging short, black, skirt covers the tops of her thighs, leaving the rest to the fishnet leggings that go all the way down into bright red stiletto boots. Caked on makeup makes her look like a seven-year-old with face paint on.

I already hate her.

"So?" I slur out. She snaps her fingers and two burly guards walk towards me, also entering the cell. Or, maybe it's a horse stable. Actually, I think that is what it is.

"So, we're going to give you a taste of your own medicine."

A black bag is thrown over my head and I'm roughly pulled to my feet, a hiss escaping my lips as the Imorphia soaked handcuffs dig into new flesh.

I'm pulled along, exiting the horse stable and being taken somewhere else. After a little walk, I'm pushed down into a kneeling position and the sack is thrown off my head, leaving me facing a big bath full of water.

"You've been tortured physically before, obviously. Let's see how you handle mentally," she says, smiling evilly at me before nodding to one of the men who grabs the back of my head, and before I can take another breath of air, he shoves my head into the water. I scream out, the feeling of water invading my lungs making me panic, causing me to try and breathe.

Which doesn't work.

I inhale the water, making me choke, and right as I feel like I'm going to pass out, they pull me up roughly, the bright lights stabbing at my eyes. I squint against the light, taking deep breaths of the sweet air, my hair hanging around my face and making it harder to breathe. Before I can get a good breath in, I'm forced back under the water, leaving me thrashing around in the men's hands, trying to free myself but only freeing bubbles from my lungs.