Page 29 of Once A Villain

His fingers crudely pull at the buttons of my dress, and I thrash wildly beneath him. The fabric falls, pooling at my feet. I’m left in a strapless bra and panties, and his grip on my neck tightens as he lifts me upright off the bed.

“What are you going to do—rape me now?”

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against my ear.

“I could. And it would be a mercy compared to what else I could do to you.”

I’m fighting him, but it’s no use. He’s too strong, and the more I resist, the harder his grip becomes.

He leans in and breathes against my ear, “Let me be very fucking clear.” His hand grips the back of my neck, pulling my hair and exposing my neck. “If you try to run, I will catch you. If you try to escape, I will find you. And if you fuck another man, I will kill him. And I will make you watch.”

I’m done with his threats. Done.

I throw my head back, feeling the crack of my skull against his jaw. I grit my teeth as pain shoots through me. “Fuck you!” I snap, spinning to face him.

I don’t see it coming—just feel the sting when his hand connects with my face.

The slap sends me crashing to the ground. I gasp, my palm pressing to my cheek. My eyes sting with unshed tears. I can’t believe this is happening.

Grabbing a handful of my hair, he roughly yanks me off the ground. I cry out, the pain searing through my scalp. Throwing me over his shoulder, he carries me out of the bedroom and down the hall.

“Let me go!” I scream, kicking my legs.

He descends the stairs, my face pressed against his back. Yelling and swearing, I thrash, claw, and bite, but he doesn’t stop.

He throws open a door, and blackness overwhelms me. I crash to the floor, my hands and knees scraping against cold concrete. The door slams behind me, followed by the unmistakable click of the lock.

I’m blind. Utterly blind. Panic claws its way up my throat, and I frantically feel the walls, desperate for any sign of direction. My breath comes in ragged bursts, my heart pounding. The air is thick, suffocating, and the darkness wraps around me.

“If you’re going to act like a brat, this is where you’ll stay.” His voice booms through the door.

I slam my fists against the walls, my screams ricocheting off the cold concrete. I scream until my throat burns, until my hands ache, until the only sound left is the ragged hitching of my breaths.

Minutes, hours—it all blurs into an endless stretch of nothing. When my body finally gives out, I collapse against the wall, the cold seeping through my skin. I pull my knees tight to my chest, every breath a shudder as tears stream down my face.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I wake, it’s still dark.

No light. No sound. Just the suffocating black and the bone-deep ache in my body from the cold concrete pressing into me. The lock clicks.

I freeze. My heart stops, and I hold my breath—waiting.

The door swings open, and the light from the hallway blinds me. I flinch, covering my face, pain shooting through my head. As my eyes adjust, I make out the figure in the doorway.

“Come.” His voice is cold and emotionless. I want to fight. To scream. To spit in his face. But the memory of darkness, of hours spent clawing at walls, shuts me up.

I push myself up, my body trembling, every movement slow and pathetic. He grabs my arm in a painful grip and drags me forward. I don’t fight him—I can’t. I’m too tired, too sore.

He hauls me down the hall, up the stairs, and into the room he dragged me from. The moment he lets go, I stumble, catching myself on the edge of a chair.

“Take a shower. Get dressed. Then you can eat.”

I don’t answer. I don’t look at him.

Hatred. Anger. Despair.

I feel it all.

The shower water pounds against my back, the heat scalding my skin. Steam thickens the air as I brace my hands against the tile, head bowed. It’s been two days since her night in the basement—two days, and she hasn’t eaten, hasn’t left the bedroom.

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