The Island

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Tillie

In the first minute, it was just an end of the year party.

The second, my drink was salty, but I blamed it on the chips.

Third, my head was spinning, but it was well after midnight.

Next, my date took me upstairs to somebody else's bedroom.

The fifth minute, his pants were down as I realized what was about to happen.

Sixth, I couldn't move while he did what he did.

Seventh, and the last minute, his friends joined. And they did it again.

And again.

And again.

It was dark where they were holding me, but I didn't notice, my mind was reeling back to reality. Nobody had come in yet, minus a girl who came to feed me.

She was small, blonde, and looked like his type. I noticed the hand-shaped bruises on the third day. They covered her wrists and neck. I recognized the bruises, I had seen them in the mirror the day after the bedroom.

I growled when I noticed them, making her jump back. There was a metal gag around my mouth that she could take off, but she hesitated. I could smell the pain on her, the fear. I tried to soften my gaze, but between my horns, wings, and the chains, I'm sure I looked nothing short of animalistic.

She slowly released the gag. I opened my mouth, stretching my jaw, and she flinched at my fangs. The guard that always came with the girl put a chain around my neck and undid the ones on my hands. I dropped to the ground, catching myself, unlike the first time when I scraped my knees on the cold stone floor. The guard left when the girl set down the food and sat across from me like she always did.

"How often?" I asked, my voice scratching as I took a bite of the stale bread they gave me

"Pardon?" Her voice was soft and shaky

I jerked forward and lifted her sleeve, fully exposing her bruised wrist.

"How often does he hurt you?"

She pulled down her sleeve and looked to the door, nervous. My instincts roared in my head, to pull this girl behind me and keep her. To keep her safe. She was so young, so small.

"He hurts all the girls, he has some pattern, but nobody can figure it out. All of us were, taken, yesterday, to celebrate your capture."

I was about to promise her to get her out, but the guard barged in, and the girl left, looking over her shoulder when she went.

I roared as they attached the chains on my wrists, and snapped the gag on, struggling the whole way. The food must have had some kind of drug in it because my limbs felt numb, and my eyelids were heavy. My eyes closed, no matter how hard I fought it.

I woke up and instantly knew something was wrong. For one, the chains on my feet were off, just one on my neck and cuffs on my hands. The floor and wall felt warmer. I smelt the stench of sweat and the salt of tears. I felt a slap across my face and opened my eyes. I instantly wished I kept them closed. Mark was standing in front of where I sat against a wall, and a girl layed in his bed, vacant-eyed and hollow. I growled, low and guttural as I pulled against my chain.

He bent down into a squat, a hand under my chin, lifting my face up and tilted my head from side to side.

"I think I like you better on your back," he said tapping his finger against the gag, "but chains work too."