Page 78 of Depravity

His one hand holds the man down and he carves a great chasm through his abdomen, before he reaches further and hacks his dick off.

When he holds it up in front of my face, I freak out. I start screaming more, scrambling away.

“Where the fuck are you going?” He snarls, dragging me back by my ankle and forcing me to look at it. At him, at the man now bleeding profusely from so many wounds that I know he won’t survive.

“Please,” I gasp, “I don’t want to, I don’t want what this is…”

“You just don’t listen, do you?” Conrad says. “You just don’t get it. I’m making you stronger, wife, far stronger than you’ve ever been.”

I don’t want to be stronger. At least not like this, not the way he thinks.

I clench my fists, staring down as the man starts to jerk, as his body starts to move like he’s having a fit. He’s gasping, spluttering blood, and then he just stops. He stills. He stares out, stares right at me but I can see he’s gone. That he’s dead.

My heart thumps in my chest, and my tears stream down my face. He’s dead. He’s gone. Conrad killed him, and for what?

My husband lets go of me and I fall, landing on his body, landing in the blood and the horror. I scream, trying to get up. Conrad grabs hold of the awful leather thing strapped aroundme and he pulls me up by it, giving me a painful wedgie before he dumps me on the floor.

Right in front of Clara.

No.

No.

No, I won’t do it. I WON’T DO IT.

Clara stares back at me, her eyes just as wide, just as afraid as mine are.

Her mouth has been taped so she can’t speak. She’s being held in place by one of the guards because clearly, she won’t be obedient enough to take this abuse.

As I hear footsteps behind me, I know Conrad is there.

“We tried to train her,” Conrad states. “Your little friend here didn’t respond well to it. Usually, we can either break someone in within a few weeks or we change tactics, we send them somewhere else, to someone else. Do you know where that is, Brynn?”

Like I could. I know nothing about this place except that it’s straight out of a nightmare. Straight out of hell.

“We send them to the levels where they don’t want sex, where they’re not so vanilla in taste. Where they like other forms of entertainment, other forms of amusement.”

I blink back, refusing to look at him, but I can’t shut those words out. I can’t shut out the taunt.

“She hasn’t done anything to deserve this.” I reply. “She’s my age, she was in school with me…”

“She’s a traitor, her family are traitors. And unfortunately for her, she’s not high enough on the pecking order to warrant the effort of keeping her as a sex slave.”

What does that mean? What the fuck is he even talking about?

“You’re going to beat her, you’re going to cut her, you’re going to hurt her, Brynn. Do you understand? Because if you don’t then I’ll leave you here, leave you in this hell…”

I won’t. I refuse. He can hurt me all he fucking wants, but I won’t do that.

He drops a bat by my knees, and it makes such a thud as it bounces on the floor before it rolls into my leg, like it too is urging me on.

I reach down, picking it up and he must think that I’ve given in because he looks so triumphant. So fucking smug.

With all my strength I hurl it across the room, hurl it as the furthest wall.

Clara is my friend. I won’t hurt her. I won’t.

Pain rips through my body. I scream, hitting the floor but I don’t feel it because I’m too overwhelmed by the sheer level of electricity pouring into me. It feels like my blood boils. Like someone has picked me up and thrown me onto a fire and I’m burning, I’m frying, I’m turning into ash.

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