Page 22 of Thorns Laced In Blood

Time didn’t exist in the grey room. Only the slow, suffocating crawl of nothingness. The basement walls pressed in, their grey monotony was broken only by the three books stacked neatly by the bed with their spines cracked, their pages soft from too many trembling fingers tracing the same words over and over.

Pride and Prejudice. The Odyssey. A tattered collection of Poe’s stories. I’d read them until the sentences blurred into nonsense, until Elizabeth Bennet’s wit felt like a taunt, and Odysseus’journey home seemed like a sick joke.

My throat burned. My stomach had stopped growling hours or days ago, shrinking into a hollow pit that ached more with every breath. I licked my lips, but my tongue was too dry to even wet them. The air tasted stale, thick with the scent of my own sweat and the lingering musk of his cologne from the last time he’d stood over me.

He’s coming. The thought slithered through me, equal parts terror and twisted want. My body was a traitor. It needed water.It needed him. The hole in the wall was forgotten about for fear of getting caught.

I stared at the door. The footsteps sounded loud. The silence had been worse than the pain. At least pain was something to focus on. This? This was just waiting.

Would he bring water this time? Would he make me beg for it? Or would he just stand there, watching me shake, savouring the way my cracked lips parted in silent pleas?

My ears pricked up at a sound, and my spine became rigid as I knelt on the floor.

The lock disengaged with the familiar clicking noise. My breath hitched as my fingers curled into my knees. I kept my head bowed down. The door opened and closed. The jangle of keys before they were placed in his pocket. His footsteps as he approached made my heart stutter.

“How’s your arse doing?” he said, but the sarcasm in his voice was as loud as my heartbeat.

“I’m sorry for stealing, Daddy,” I whispered.

“That didn't answer my question,” he said, moving close enough for me to see his black polished shoes.

“It’s fine, Daddy,” I lied.

“Open up, doll,” he said, and I lifted my head and opened my mouth.

He placed the pill in my mouth and handed me a bottle of water. I tried not to grab it from him. While I unscrewed the cap and gulped down the water, he walked back to the table to check the contraceptive pills.

“You took too many,” he said as he tossed the strip back on the table.

“I didn't know what day it was,” I said, feeling a little woozy from taking the pill on an empty stomach.

He began to blur, and the last thing I saw was his evil smirk.

Chapter 14

Maeve

I woke to darkness. Not the familiar, suffocating dark of the basement. This was like a thick void, and I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed. I tried to move, but my elbows hit solid wood. My knees jammed against unyielding planks. The space was too small, too tight, the walls pressing in from every side until my ribs ached with the effort to breathe.

No. No, no, no.

This couldn't be happening. It wasn't real. My breath came in sharp, panicked gasps, the air already stale and metallic. I threw my hands up. My knuckles slammed against the lid just inches above my face.

“Please!” My voice tore raw from my throat. “I’ll be good. I’ll be good.PLEASE!”

I paused to listen for a response, but only silence answered.

There was no laughter. No taunting voice. Just the deafening absence of everything.

I screamed until my throat became raw meat. I pounded until my fists were bloody pulps. The air grew thick, with each inhalation becoming laborious. Black spots bloomed behind my eyelids, or maybe that was just the darkness pressing deeper.

I’m going to die here.

The realisation slithered through me, colder than fear. This was worse than the girl’s death. My limbs turned to stone. My cries withered to whimpers. The dark swallowed even my terror, pulling me under like a weighted shroud. The last thing I felt before unconsciousness took me wasn’t panic.

It was loneliness.

???

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