Salvation

Chapter 3: Unfolding the Past

Darci wakes up, feeling better than she has in a long time. Her muscles are all stiff and sore, but as she stretches out, she can feel them release and relax. As she looks around the room, Darci suddenly remembers where she is, it didn't hit her until now. "I'm free." she mentally sighs.

As Darci crawls out of the bed, she notices some clothes on the nightstand with a note on top of them. She opens the note, and notices that it's from Marc.

I hope these fit, I don't have anything smaller. I'll be downstairs if you need anything else.

-Marc

Darci grabs the clothes that Marc left for her, and goes into the bathroom. Darci strips out of her torn and shredded clothes, and throws them straight into the garbage. "I never want to see them again." She thinks. Darci takes a glance in the mirror, and when she does, she doesn't like what she sees. Her once short hair is now down to her shoulders, the bottom is completely destroyed, looking as if it was chopped off with dull scissors. On the right side of her face is a huge bruise, spreading from under her right eye to the bottom of her jaw. There is also a scar going from her left ear to her chin, the scratches along her bloody eyebrow, and the rips in her ears from where her earrings used to be. Darci turns around and looks at her back. There she finds another huge scar; this one running from her right shoulder blade to her left hip, directly across her back. She can see bruises still forming on her sides, right under her arms. Darci pokes her left side and winces; it feels as though she broke a rib or something. She barely even recognizes herself, but once she finishes inspecting herself, she steps into the shower. The hot water feels amazing on her muscles, and as the water is flowing, she feels the pain going with it...until...

It's too hot in here, but she can't do anything about it. After the last runaway attempt, he's gotten into the habit of chaining her, so now she is chained to the shower railing. Her back to the wall with her hands behind her, though she can still tell he's in front of her. "He knows I'm a fighter, and that's why he took away my vision." Darci thinks to herself. The black blindfold is digging into her face, pulling at her hair. The water hitting the top of her head, and running down her face doesn't help. Darci can feel him trace the waters' path, starting at the very top of her head, all the way down to her feet. She tries to lift her foot, to kick him away, but the weights are too much, she can't move them, never mind trying to lift them. Her feet suddenly get yanked apart, and she's standing there, exposed, as he starts...

"NO!" she yells as she jumps out of the shower. Even though she is still hot from the shower, she is shaking and shivering uncontrollably. Darci can't wipe that memory from her mind, it's seems as though everything seemingly harmless has a memory attached to make her recoil.

Darci quickly dresses in the clothes Marc left her and wanders over to the door. She is just about to go downstairs when she hears Marc on the phone.

"I understand that! But I couldn't just leave her! I've seen what they do to women like her, and I couldn't see it done again." There's a pause, "Yes, I know. I understand what my actions did, but you don't seem to understand what she means to me." There's another pause. "She is not just some girl I use to have a crush on! You don't know her like I do! You know what, I quit. If this is what you give me after 2 years undercover there, and saving a civilian, then I can't work for you anymore."

As Darci listens, she can faintly hear a man on the other side yelling, but she's too far away to hear anything clearly. She hears Marc hang up the phone then walk away from the stairs. Darci quickly straightens up and walk down, pretending that she didn't hear anything.

"Oh, you're up. Are you hungry?" he asks as he walks over to the fridge.

"You don't have to make me anything." Darci says hurriedly, hating to have him work. But, as she says it, her stomach says otherwise, grumbling at the slightest hint of food.