I Can't Save You (Kellic)

Chapter 7

Vic 's POV

Cuts lined my arm, chunks missing from where the beast yanked them out. It hurt like hell, but what do you expect from pieces of flesh being taken away from you.

But what hurt the most was the handcuffs clamped tightly around my frail wrist. If I even tried to pull on them, my bones would come together and shake, threatening to just snap

"That's what you get for trying to run away. Cry, just know I don't care." Kellin said from above me.

"W-What's that in the corner?.." I asked, signaling to what looked like a broken pile of bones.

"That," he said, pointing to the pile, "is my parents." He answered bluntly.

"Daddy used to beat me. Mommy had a real liking to alcohol. Made her let daddy hit me." He almost sang. I shrank back a little. "They were the first people to disrespect me, then I found a knife and they were sure as fuck the last." He threatened me.

"Am I going to die?" I shivered at the thought of him killing me. But he only laughed at my question.

"That's such a stereotypical question, Vic. But no, you will not die today."
"What about tomorrow?"

"One day at a time."

With that, he left me in this cramped room- no, basement? Concrete walls isn't a room thing. Plus the rest of the house doesn't look this sturdy.

Of course, he needed it to be sturdy if he was going to have his victim camp out in it. Wouldn't want the roof to collapse on me before his knife did.

My stomach turned. I hadn't ate in forever- and there was no way he was going to feed me any time soon. Hell, I don't even know if I'll see him today. I hope not.

Along with my stomach fucking eating itself, I had to piss too. You would think that with all of his yelling I would have done it by now, right on the blanket that he gave me to lay on. It wasn't much protection from the cold ground and if it did get chilly, my arms didn't have a way to grab the edges of the piece of shit to wrap it around myself. All in all, by the end of the night I'd be cold, in a puddle of my own piss, and dying from starvation. Fucking great.

Tears seeped from the corner of my eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen to people like me. I haven't fucked up one bit, yet I get thrown into a basement and almost eaten by a dog. Why do these thing happen to good people.

You're not a good person my brain chanted.

Yeah but I put off a good vibe I replied.

Truth is, none of us are good.All of us have secrets

The tears continued until early hours of the next morning. I kept crying until I couldn't anymore, and I didn't have hands free to wipe off my face, causing my skin to become sticky with dry tears.

I'm going to die in this basement and I don't think I'm okay with that.