Brahms Heelshire ("The boy" fan fiction)

Chapter Twelve

*WARNING* The following chapter contains sensitive material as in depictions of sexual violence/ assault. Reader discretion is advised.
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His figure was dark and looming in the doorway of my bedroom. Cold sweat formed on my forehead. I closed my eyes hoping he'd think I was asleep. I stayed still, and managed to keep my breaths long and steady. Was this the end for me? My mind spiraled.

I heard a low chuckle from across the room, he knew what he was doing, he knew I was awake. My eyes remained shut and I continued my steady breaths. Only did I begin to panic when I heard footsteps on the wooden floor signaling Brahms moving closer to me. I tensed up like a dead animal, my hands clenched in balls, and my toes curled. The footsteps stopped. I could feel his eyes boring into my face. I could smell the must of the inside of the walls. His breathing was shallow at first, but deepened and quickened as if he'd just run a marathon.

"Why don't you open your eyes Greta"? A child's voice entered my ears. A chill ran over me. I reluctantly opened my eyes to find his smile the only thing showing in the dark room. My breath began to heave and before I could scream he pounced on me.

My eyes flashed open. They darted around the darkness searching for something to let me know I was safe. Nothing. Pitch black. A thin layer of sweat covered my skin and clung to my clothes. I gasped for air, panicking at the feeling I wasn't in my bed. I tried to move but I couldn't, tied down, both my arms tied over top of me. My legs however were free.
I knew what he was going to do. He would do this if I didn't kill him first. Realizing the screwdriver was not with me, my heart sunk. He had the upper hand. I couldn't fight him like this. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes trying to control my frantic breathing. "You'll get through this Gret. You will beat this". My whispers disappeared into the darkness, letting me know he was there.

I heard footsteps off into the distance. I straightened my back and drew up my legs. I would have to kick him if he gets close. One good hit and he's out. One bad hit and I'm dead.

Slowly the footsteps grew louder and louder. He was close. I hiked my right leg up a bit more. No backing down. All in. The footsteps were so close I could've hit him, but before I could move the light turned on. I was in his room. The room in the walls.

Brahms stood hunched straight across from me. His mask was fixed straight on his face. A bush of curls poured over the mask top leaving no room for the forehead part to show. His cardigan and pants matched in color. He was neat.

His eyes held curiosity behind his mask. I broke the eye contact and tried to move my arms. "Unless you want to cut yourself, I suggest you don't do that" Brahms' deep voice slithered it's way over to me, mocking me.
I stopped moving and stared at him feeling the skin under the ropes begin to burn,
"What is this"? I asked with sudden courage.

Brahms only chuckled, sending even more mockery my way. "Don't be so stupid Greta I told you what would happen if you kept denying my advances". He twiddled this thumbs as he spoke, his eyes stabbing mine with intensity. "You see I've tried everything, I've tried being dominant and that didn't work. I tried being kind and gentle. That didn't work. I tried being physical. That didn't work. Force is the only option I have left". His voice was low and raspy. I could hear his excitement. It was sick.

Brahms began to walk towards me, I could see his evil smile through his hideous mask. My breathing began to speed up I couldn't let him do this!
"Wait"! I screamed. He stopped in his tracks. I licked my lips out of nervousness. "Why force"? Brahms chuckled again, this time more menacingly, "I see we have a stall tactic". I shook my head, "nope. Just a genuine question" my voice faltered and I hoped he didn't notice. Brahms shrugged, "you won't give it to me any other way and I was promised you". I scrunched my nose up at him deeply disturbed. My hatred for his parents grew into a vicious loath. It's their fault.