The Void

Chapter Two. Blood in the Water.

Pain isn't new to me, most people get used to the feeling in some capacity when they're young, some people experience less of it than others. I'm not sure where my life would fall on that scale, it's a comparison that cannot be made in good faith but if there's one thing that I held onto. It's the belief that death would bring peace.

In death, no matter your experiences, pain doesn't exist anymore and yet, agony is all I can feel as my body is pulled from the black depths I had succumbed to.

There's a pang of disappointment in my burning chest, because if I can still feel everything, then I didn't die. I was ready, I wanted it, fighting to stay alive in a place like this? It's what all of my nightmares were made of.

Every inch of my body throbs without end, some part of me is vaguely aware of the way my stomach tenses with every ragged breath. The way it stretches against the deep wounds that I have been left with, I can't bear to open my eyes yet, and so I let the fear that I am still trapped in the same inescapable danger tear at me.

All those creepy men in the bars seem like true gentlemen now, in comparison to the monsters that reside here, it didn't feel like it when I was experiencing it, but those memories will never be the same now. You hear stories all the time, the news is always stacked with awful recounts of it, and yet there's a part of you that always thinks. This can't possibly happen to me, but then it does and suddenly processing reality starts to feel impossible.

Reality. Where people truly are this cruel and monsters like the men in the basement exist, all to rip you apart and play with your pain like it's fun. I keep waiting for reality to step in, wake me up from this coma I have found myself in, but the reprieve never comes.

The chill that set into my bones the last time I awoke, sprawled out on cold concrete doesn't feel as intense this time, the fogginess of my -undoubtable- concussion gives way to a little more sensation. The soft caress of something around my waist, hitting the crooks of my elbow with a gentle nudge.

My hands are limp by my sides, even as I remain still, there's an awful searing sensation that starts in my right shoulder and skates down into my forearm. My entire body feels wrung dry, like all the energy has been stolen and now all that's left is pain. Lulling me into a safety net full of warm water, I could let my consciousness fall away again, with my neck supported by the edge of what I now recognise as a bathtub.

It's a wonderfully calm sensation to be enveloped within, after the horrors of these last... days, and the knowledge that this oasis is temporary. I let myself fall victim to the way it sinks into my skin. I feel the gentle scrape of a finger, and the buzz of awareness sharpens through my haze.

I realise the soft sloshing feeling I have been so comforted by, is someone running a cloth over my damaged body. The moment I feel the soft and accidental graze of their finger, I am snapping my tired eyes open, because people don't wash blood off the people they kidnap and attempt to murder.

There's a woman knelt over the white lip of the tub I'm laid in, her thick curls hang down to her hips, her eyes are focused solely on the harsh lines of my stomach. The black coat she is wearing is thick, rolled up around her elbows and dark brown eyes focused intently on wiping the blood from my skin.

I can see glimpses of my torn skin in my peripheral vision despite my attempts at ignoring them. I don't know if I truly have the ability to process what it is that I can see. The deep red, the way my skin seems to disappear into a dark shadow, I can't fathom the thought of what I might see if I look closer. I can't even find the energy to care that I am now naked in this stranger's presence, her eyes remain focused on my battered body, and I can't tell if she's aware that I am awake.