CONDEMNATION ✓

Chapter 6

In a split second, he had you by the neck. His fingers dug into the side of your throat painfully, and his palm pressed against your windpipe. He didn't hesitate, not even a flinch indicating that he had any remorse for what he was doing. Admittedly, your eyes went wide with surprise. Your feet began to kick and slip against the marble floor as you were pushed back and held up an inch above your original height. Your toes curled, trying to gain traction to stop yourself as you wrapped your hand around his wrist. You gasped for air to enter your lungs, but he shut down the channel. The carbon dioxide crawled and screamed to get out as fresh air begged to come in.

R roughly slammed you against the closet door and held you in his vise grip. You choked, fighting to breathe. Blood-red nails digging into the skin of his wrist, you desperately tried to inflict pain. You noticed a dagger tattoo that stretched from his wrist and across the back of his palm, the point of the dagger ending at the knuckle of his middle finger. Barely conscious, you balled your other fist and readied to sucker punch him in the temple, but it was his bone-chilling words that brought you to a pause.

"I don't care if you are Mono's little sister or even if you were the pope's daughter." His thick lips popped as his deep voice came out in a raspy hiss. Those uncaring eyes now seemed to linger with darkness you had never seen in another person. "I could snap your neck without a second thought and have a late dinner." He tossed his threats back at you, this time not only verbally treating you like trash but physically. Your blood ran hot, releasing your fear as you let it drain into your fist. You mustered as much strength as possible; the lack of oxygen was starting to cloud your vision and make your eyes water. Pulling your hand back, you swung it up and clocked him right in the temple, your fist grazing his cheek and sliding across his face as it turned to the right.

You had to hit him with your less dominant appendage, knowing that punch wouldn't be as strong as it could be because of that. Still, his head twisted off to the side. The strike did little to loosen his demonic grip on your throat. You narrowed your eyes, blinking away the unwilling moisture. However, the creeping draw of his eyes back to yours truly stopped your heart. The emotionless yet burning hatred in his hues sent chills down your spine. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips, trickling down his chin slowly. Your hit caused the inside of his cheek to cut against his perfectly white teeth. Taking in a breath, he released a gust of wind from those swollen lips that sent blood spattering across your face, causing you to flinch. Tightening his grip on your neck, you were sure this was it. You told him not to make empty promises, and here he was, about to snap your neck. You were out of cards to play as your vision began to tunnel.

Soon enough, your body felt the cold, harsh impact of the marble floor as he flung you out of his grasp like a rag doll. He tossed you into the metaphorical dirt like a dog. Your jaw came unhinged as you gasped for breath, rolling onto your side. Everything ached, but nothing more than your throat. You knew there would be lasting bruises left behind, but that was the least of your worries. You pressed a hand onto the ground, feeling glass cut against your skin as he threw you into the debris you had made earlier. Your breath came in deep, pained pants, but your will wouldn't allow you to stay down. You tried to push yourself up, slipping on the glass, mixing with your blood, but you crashed back to the ground. You coughed as your scratchy throat couldn't sustain the air you needed to clear your head.

You barely heard the click of his shoes over your labored breathing as he approached your pathetic frame. Barely managing to get on your hands and knees, you struggled to keep yourself stable. Fingers soon laced into your electric blue locks and yanked back, forcing you onto your knees with your head to the sky - your neck exposed - wearing nothing but your underwear. Blood splattered across your face and dripped from the tips of your fingers as your arms hung lifelessly at your side. His grip on your hair was enough to make your scalp ache. He reentered your vision, staring down at you as if some god. You swallowed your empty throat as your dark brown eyes bore holes of hatred into his face.

You saw him. The primal instinct in his eyes had calmed just slightly. He was trying to assert his dominance in his domain. He was establishing control. But it wasn't the words he spoke that brought you off your pedestal. His cold-hearted actions and empty looks pierced the air like daggers that tore your second skin to shreds. No one had ever dared to treat you like this before. "Like it or not, you work for me now." R declared, his head tilting to the side as his blonde hair dangled and hooded those evil eyes, casting a shadow over his cheeks. "You will do your job without flaw, or I will be the first to bury that pretty little ass of yours in my backyard."

His free hand raised, cupping your chin. He began to smear his blood - that he had spat on your face - across your cheek in disgrace, and for the first time, you saw his lips tug into the most god-forsaken smile you had ever seen. "But, not before I feed that disrespectful tongue you have to your brother." His hands released you, causing your weak body to fall back to the ground into the glass. The decapitated head beside you rolled away from your body as you knocked it with your hip, and you stumbled back to the ground.

Your body slid against the glass, trying to find its momentum to move, forcing your iron-clad will to fuel your desire to get up, to leave this pathetic state you were in. You could barely find a clean place to brace your hands that weren't coated in your blood when you heard R's radiating voice call out to you, halting your movements as his tone froze you. "Remember this next time you think I won't make good on my promises, Princess." The click of his shoes against the cold, unforgiving floor began to get further away; he was leaving.

"I'm not your god damn princess!!" Your voice choked out a raspy yell as you held onto the last sliver of your dignity with everything you had. You pushed yourself onto your hands and knees a second time, just long enough to bring your head up to shoot your hate-filled gaze across the room at R. He stopped at the door, turning to the side as he stared at his bloodied hand. He casually pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hands clean, and then dab at the corner of his mouth elegantly. Your labored breathing was the only thing filling the silence before he dropped the cloth on the floor beside the door. He cracked another grin, and you could see an indent on his cheek as the skin pulled inwardly.

"Not looking like that, you're not." He agreed, his tone condescending. Oh, how your rage boiled and rattled your bones with contempt, how you wanted to tear him apart with your two hands and see the life drain from those overconfident eyes. Without another word, he turned and left the room, shutting the door with a soft click that made you hope he'd never return. Feeling yourself finally alone, you quickly collapsed back to the ground. You coughed sharply, a few drops of blood expelling from your scratched throat and splashing across the marble floor like a bad paint job. You could feel your consciousness begging for just a tiny break, and your eyes fluttered closed. You didn't care what it took; you didn't care who had to be sacrificed; you would be the worst mistake that man had ever made...