Looks Can Be Deceiving (Seth Rollins)

Chapter 7: You Know You're Right

*WARNING*

*The second half of this story has been deleted somehow. I am so sorry for the inconvience. I'm doing my best to fix it.*

Bruised. Bloody. Broken. That's currently how I feel. Brock kept me up all night, continuously beating and forcing sex on me. It's sad how familiar all of it was to me. It seemed like I had become immune to the abuse, something that I hoped would never happen.

Now, I was walking through the halls, trying to find someone who could help me. Brock kicked me out as soon as he was satisfied with himself, meaning I had to walk down seemingly endless halls by myself and hope for Seth to appear.

My entire body felt weak, numb, detached. I could barely feel my legs, let alone my feet, making it easier for me to stumble with every step. My wrists and forearms were covered in deep, blue bruises that stuck out like a sore thumb.

As I turned the corner, my body collided with a taller, stronger one, catching me completely off guard. I fell straight to the ground, landing on my sore back. My eyes grew wide as I realized who was standing above me.

"My god, Scarlett. What the hell happened to you?" Dean asks, his face covered in worry and concern. He looks over my damaged body in anger, like the bruises and cuts scattered everywhere meant something to him.

"I-I can't tell you." I say, my voice raspy and hoarse.

Dean looks at me unamused before shaking his head. "I'm not going to ask again. Who fucking did this to you?" He shouts, making me shudder away.

"You can't tell anyone, not even Seth or Roman. I'm not saying a word until you promise me that."

"I promise. Now get on with it." He says, sounding rather annoyed.

"Brock Lesnar."

Dean's expression changes to confused. "Why the hell would Lesnar want to do this to you?" I roll my eyes and sigh. I honestly didn't have the energy to explain all of this shit to him.

"Look, it's a really long story. How about you help me up and take me to Seth. I'll explain on the way."

Dean just shrugs before slowly helping me to my feet. Once I could stand by myself, Dean wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me walk, like I was an old lady or something. We got on the elevator and Dean pressed the button for the 15th floor. This was going to take awhile.

"I'm listening." Dean says, his concerned eyes burning a hole through mine.

"Brock and I used to date. It was okay at first, but he changed about 2 months into it. It began with forced sex just about every night, then came the hitting. Brock used to smack me around for the fun of it. During sex, in public, in the locker room, wherever he wanted. It got bad at times, other times it was just a punch. That went on for most of our "relationship", then came the humiliation. Brock made me do terrible things to myself. Cutting my wrist, burning my leg, wearing slutty clothes in public, starving myself. The worst part was when he leaked my nudes to the entire locker room. You have no idea how humiliating it is to walk past your coworkers and have them shout "whore" and "slut" at you everyday. I mean, literally everyone saw them, even Stephanie and Vince. I almost got fired because of Brock and he didn't even care. He thought everything that I was going through was humorous, like I deserved almost losing my job. What he did to me might not seem that bad to you, but it ruined me, scarred me for life."

I pause, taking a minute to calm myself before I broke down.

"He took me last night. I was walking to the locker room when someone pulled me into a room. It was dark, so I didn't know who it was, but when they started talking I knew it was Brock. He tried to have sex with me there, but I didn't allow it. I distracted him and tried to leave, but he locked the door. He knocked me out, so I don't remember anything that happened in that room. I woke up in the backseat of his car, my hands and feet tied together. Paul was driving, so he obviously knew what was going on. They untied me and let me walk by myself, of course they were nearby when I tried to run off. Paul went to his side of the room and went to sleep while Brock attacked me. It lasted all night."