My head was pounding, I could here the blood thumping through my systems and my veins. My thigh was on fire, blood continuously spilling out of it.
I was completely terrified. I didn’t understand anything. And clearly I was missing an important part of a puzzle.
But my daddy would never involve himself with that man. Never in a million years. Unless, maybe he got the wrong person, maybe this was just a huge misunderstanding.
I snorted and looked down at my thigh. Yea, a big bloody mistake.
The masked man had left me around… I didn’t actually know. It felt like I had been in here forever.
My wrists were getting redder and redder from the chaffing and attempts to escape. The drip, drip, dripping sound of liquid hitting metal was getting infuriating and I wanted to go all she hulk and fucking kill it.
I sucked in air greedily, trying to focus on something, anything to get rid of the pain in my thigh. It burned like fire as the fabric of my jeans pressed against the inflicted wound. Tears for the millionth time sprang to my eyes and chocked up my eyesight.
It’s just a mistake. It’s just a mistake. It’s just a mistake. It’s just a mistake.
Squeezing my eyes shut I tried to lock away my emotions and not appear weak incase He was watching.
∞∞∞∞
Somehow I had fallen asleep and was jolted awake when I heard the loud bang of the door being moved slowly. Black boots moved ruthlessly towards and I didn’t look up until clown man was only standing a few inches away from me. Raising my head slowly I gave the horrid man the best defiant glare I had.
“So,” the man said casually, his knife glinting against the buzzing over headlights as he twirled it. “Are you ready for a surprise?”
“What? Your last surprise wasn’t enough?” I said smoothly, bobbing my head to indicate my thigh.
“Feisty, today are we?” The man asked with amusement laced in his tone.
“No, you just don’t scare me anymore!” I said defiantly, looking at him straight in the face. Since, you know I can’t actually see his eyes.
“Well, I think I’ve found an new way to get you to talk,” He stroked the knife along the left side of my face, carving along the bumps and grooves, pausing slightly at my eye.
I narrowed my gaze, he wouldn’t dare. Chuckling, he withdrew the knife and shouted towards the open door.
“Bring him in!”
Two enormous men kitted in more black but instead one wore a hockey mask and the other had on a dog mask. Their boots squeaked on the concrete as they dragged another man in by his arms.
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Teen FictionSamuel Blake was the boy who had dug Chloe Moore out of her depression when she was only sixteen years old. Now, two years later their friendship has stayed strong and they know each other inside and out, no secrets left what so ever. That is...