Page 96 of Depravity

I bring the mallet down again and there’s a sickening crunch as it makes contact. She screams harder, louder.

It sets goosebumps all over my skin and on some level, I hate that I’m hurting her, but she asked for this. She bloody well deserves it.

The stench of faeces reaches my nose, and I realise she’s shit herself. I guess that’s to be expected with such an injury.

I look down, seeing the dark stain already soiling the bed.

Her skin is mottled, blackening, and I can see a lump already forming where the mallet crushed her bones.

She’s face down in the pillow, gasping, sobbing, heaving as much as I am in this moment.

“Wiggle your toes.’ I order.

She doesn’t react. She doesn’t move. Maybe it’s because the mallet has done its job, or maybe it’s because she’s still being a defiant little bitch.

I toss the mallet, letting it clang onto the floor, and then I’m undoing the bindings. I grab hold of her right leg, yanking it up.She cries out in protest but as I let go, I can see from the way it drops, from the way it falls that she no longer has any control over it.

Triumph soars in my heart. I let out a laugh filled with relief.

And then I lay down beside her, pulling her into my arms.

“It’s okay,” I murmur as I cradle her now shattered body and press it into mine. “You’re okay. Everything is as it’s meant to be now.”

She’s taking long, sharp breaths like she’s hyperventilating, like the pain is too much for her to handle.

“You’re okay,” I murmur. She’s more than okay, she’s perfect now. She’s completely dependent on me. Brynn will never take a step again, she’ll never go anywhere unless I physically take her there.

She’s mine in every sense of the word.

The room is a silent witness to my madness.

The walls are closing in with each passing second.

Conrad cradled me all night like he had no shame, no remorse.

In the morning, he had the doctor check me and he confirmed what I already knew. That my lower spine was broken enough to damage my spinal cord.

I’ll never walk again.

I’ll never dance. I’ll never feel the grass beneath my feet or the sand between my toes.

I try to wiggle them; to force my body to do something and the hollowness, the emptiness that follows feels worse than any of the abuse Conrad has inflicted on me before.

I’m paralysed. Or as good as.

The doctor gives me an injection. ‘For the pain’ he says. I don’t want that pain to go away. As much as it’s unbearable, I need to feel it. I need to feel something.

And as that icy nothingness slips through my veins, I feel more broken, more useless, more trapped than ever.

Conrad fucks me as soon as the doctor leaves.

He pulls my body around, he spreads my legs and then he’s shoving himself into me, grunting and grinding and using me exactly for what I am now.

A toy.

A doll.

A living, breathing womb and little else.

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