Trust From Within - Book 3 Daughter of a Monster Series

Chapter 24- A New Torture

It's been four days.

Four days of waterboarding, different brands being burnt into my skin, drugs, and different forms of rope torture, mostly taken from medieval techniques. It's very different to the things Tristan did to me.

At the moment, I'm finding it hard to stay conscious with all the blood in my head, my face red and my head feeling like it's going to explode. My ankles are bound by a rope, tied together and hung from the ceiling, the same rope making my back arch backwards as it ties my hands to my ankles behind my back. I think my shirt was burned a while ago, because all that I'm wearing is the simple black bra that I was wearing before all of this, and the shorts I was brought here in, and I can feel the dried blood all over my legs and back from the 'lay there and get beat up' sessions I've had.

I slightly turn around, the room rotating around me, and my stomach churning. Dribble runs from my mouth, my eyes half lidded and magic still out of reach. I haven't felt it since the day they crushed my thumbs. To be honest, I've lost all sense of time and direction, not knowing where I am or where I'm going, all I know is the pain in me and the emptiness that reverberates through me.

It's been so long and so lonely without my family here, without Nathan here. I just hope Dad is okay, at least if he's okay it makes all of this worth it to be able to hold onto that hope. The hope that all of them are okay, that me being here is enough to stop this blonde ass from hurting them. Actually, I found out that her name is Kayla, so I have some information on her.

One of the guys who has been helping her almost kill me steps forward as she enters the barn I think I'm in. "Well, I have a new place for you to go, finally sorted all of this out. But, we have some modifications to make first."

She walks up to me and it's then that I notice the needle and thread in her hands. She pulls at my hair, pulling my head up with it, so that I'm looking at her sideways. "Hold her there," she instructs, and someone else grabs my hair, pain ripping at my skull. She threads the cotton through the needle and smiles at me evilly. In one smooth motion she steps forward, presses my lips together, and stabs the needle through the top of them.

I try to let out a scream, but she holds my lips shut, her unnaturally long, definitely fake nails digging into my lip. She keeps going, even as I attempt at thrashing around, but she sews my lips shut. The metallic taste of blood runs into my mouth, mixing with salty tears as pain claws at me.

"Load her up," she says, looking at the burly guy holding my hair, stepping back and walking away. My eyes roll back as they close, the effort too much to keep open, my lips burning as I whine lowly, which causes more pain as my lips vibrate from the sound.

I feel him untie the ropes tied to my hands, and then the ones on my feet, making me fall to the floor with a forced grunt as I collide with the compacted dirt that is the ground. I'm cuffed again around my wrists by the Imorphia cuffs, the bag being placed on top of my head, and I'm roughly forced to my feet, but my legs crumble underneath me. The guy just drags me along by my wrists instead, my thumbs screaming in pain, and I feel myself be dragged outside, the ground underneath me changing.

I'm thrown into a cart it feels like, the sound of a horse alerting me to the fact. The sounds of wood scrape in my ears and I groan under my breath. Someone joins me in the cart, their hands securing around the chain connecting the cuffs, holding onto me. The horses start trotting forward, the smell of the fresh air invigorating me, even though the dark sack is over my face, making the air slightly musty smelling, but it's better than being upside down.

After a small, bumpy ride, we stop somewhere, and I can hear lots of voices, gravel moving under the horses' hooves and all the different conversations of confusion mixing into a melting pot of puzzlement.