by Melody Anne
“Why isn’t she broken?” the master asked, his fingers on his chin as he analyzed her. Elena looked back down. She couldn’t muster the energy for disgust right now.
“She’s strong. Much stronger than any of the girls we’ve dealt with before, Sir.”
“Hmm.” He continued circling her. “She’s scrawny and looks like shit.” The man inspected her like she was nothing more than one of a herd of cattle ready for the slaughter, and he was determining how much he could get per pound. Maybe that’s exactly what she was.
Elena could barely maintain her grasp on reality. She wasn’t sure who or what she was anymore. There was a vague echo in the back of her mind, that she wasn’t Elena, that she’d once been someone else, been someone happy and carefree.
But the more days that had passed, the more that echo died, and the more she felt she was dying. She might be nothing more than an empty shell. She really didn’t know.
“We’ve limited her food during her conversion. Most women would have broken by now.”
“Maybe it’s time we give up on this one,” he said, no emotion in his tone. He continued staring at her. Though she was no longer looking at the man, she could feel his gaze burning into her.
“I would normally tell you, yes, we should. But in this case, she’s almost there. It’s been time-consuming, but I think the harder they fall, the more broken they are. I wouldn’t stop now. Too much has been invested,” her trainer said.
“That’s good to hear. I like the look of this one.” The silver-haired man moved forward and suddenly clasped her chin tightly in his grasp. “Yes, I really like the look of this one,” he murmured.
Disgust — as much as she was able to feel at this point in her life — filled Elena at the old man’s touch. There was nothing she could do about it though. Even if she hadn’t been tied down, she was too weak to fight him — to fight anyone.
He trailed his slimy fingers down her shirtless body and then forcibly pinched her nipples. She was used to the abuse, and she didn’t give him the satisfaction of crying out. He pulled back and grinned. She looked at his nose, refusing to make eye contact with the monster.
“Yes, I really like this one. Keep working on her.” When she thought it was over, the man turned to her trainer and smiled. “I want a few minutes alone.”
“Sir, she’s secure right now, but she still fights us once in a while,” the trainer warned.
“Check her restraints, then leave us,” he thundered, obviously not liking it when he was argued with.
Her trainer did as his boss demanded, and the four goons walked from the room, the click of the door signaling she was now alone with the master.
“You are a fighter, aren’t you, Elena?” he asked as his hand rested on her upper thigh. It took so much effort for her not to flinch.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said when she knew he was expecting an answer from her.
He squeezed her thigh hard, nearly making her cry out. She barely managed to hold it back.
“I would take you right now, but I want to savor this,” he said with a smile. “Though, it has been a couple weeks for me.”
His expression was conflicted as he reached up and clasped one breast, squeezing it as hard as her thigh. This time he managed to get a small squeak from her.
“No. I will wait . . .” he said with a pause. “But not too much longer. If you aren’t broken soon, then I’ll be the one to break you.”
His eyes glowed at that statement as if this was a new concept that greatly excited him. He was such a monster. How could anyone work for him?
He knelt in front of her, his face level with hers, and then he was gripping the back of her neck, bracing her as he moved to her lips. She didn’t fight the kiss. What good would it do? But her stomach turned as his tongue thrust into her mouth and his other hand moved down her body, touching her breasts, pulling the nipples roughly, before sliding down her stomach and penetrating her sore opening.
When he pulled back, his eyes glowed with excitement. “It’s so difficult to wait,” he murmured as if he were changing his mind.
She knew this was going to happen, but she wasn’t ready. They hadn’t emptied her mind enough for her to survive it.
He leaned down and bit her nipple, making another whimper escape from her as she heard the zipper of his pants go down. She fought the tears wanting to escape. She had no doubt that would excite him even more.
He didn’t bother looking at her face but continued assaulting her breasts as she heard the slapping sound of him pleasuring himself. She tried taking herself to another place, any place but where she was, but she couldn’t escape the sound of him grunting as one hand punctured her body while his other pleasured himself.
When he released her throbbing nipple and let out a cry, she felt moist fluid against her leg. She had to fight against gagging.
“Yes, I won’t wait much longer. The idea of taming you overrides my men’s fear of you somehow being able to escape or hurt me,” he said with a laugh. Of course he didn’t think it possible for her to hurt him. She wasn’t capable of hurting anyone in her weak condition.
He stood, his waning erection still hanging out. He rubbed the tip against her lips and laughed again before moving back and tucking himself into his pants.
“I’ll return soon,” he promised.
The master left the room. She fought tears, refusing to let them fall. It wasn’t long before someone entered and dimmed the lights. Then the videos began to play before her, and Elena watched. She had no choice but to watch. She’d seen these scenes a thousand times over.
After a while, she was almost hypnotized. She felt Mary slip farther away. She pushed Mary away because Mary couldn’t handle what was happening to her. Elena could. Mary was the only thing holding her back.
“Dad,” she whispered as she watched the screen.
Her father was running in this video, a big smile on his face.
“Come on, Elena, you can catch me,” he called, turning around and gazing at her as a child on the screen.
“I’m coming, Dad,” she muttered aloud at the same time her younger version said it.
Their golden retriever chased after them, and then she caught up to her father and tackled him. He acted like she was strong, and he fell to the ground, both of them laughing as the puppy licked their faces.
“I love you, Elena,” her father said between fits of laughter.
“I love you too, Daddy,” she sighed before laying her head against his chest.
Then the puppy snuggled up to them, and they gazed at the sky as it began to darken and stars appeared.
The videos continued. One after the other.
Eventually, Elena fell asleep in her chair, used to passing out from malnutrition, exhaustion, or just because her body was completely worn out.
At some point, the men must have moved her as they always did, because she woke up in her bed. Bathed. Always bathed, unless she had done something wrong or something that prevented bathing.
It had to be extreme on her part because the animals liked her clean, liked to smell her as they laid their filthy hands all over her.
“I’m Elena. I’m seventeen years old. My parents died. I ran away and got sick.” This was what she was supposed to say every day. She had to say it over and over again. Over and over and over and . . .
Elena fell back asleep.
In her dream, a blond little boy ran up to her, his arms open wide, but she couldn’t see his face. Couldn’t hear what he was saying to her. But watching him run to her made her smile.
He was so precious, this little boy with no name. There was such light radiating from him. She wanted to know him.
She knew she wasn’t allowed to know this boy. She didn’t know why, but she knew.
“I’m Elena. I’m seventeen years old. My parents died . . .
Chapter Thirteen
The door hadn’t latched. Elena lay in her bed, shallow breaths coming in and out. The door wa
sn’t locked. She did nothing. Seconds ticked by, and then minutes, maybe even an hour and she still lay in her bed.
Was this a test?
She wasn’t sure. But it could be that one of her captors had been in a hurry, had wanted to get to the ball game he’d been talking about with the other guys. Maybe she could escape.
The thought hadn’t crossed her mind in a long while. That was a thought from Mary, never something Elena would even sort of think about.
But the door hadn’t latched.
Terror seizing her throat shut, her heart thudding a million miles a minute, Elena stood very quietly. If they were somehow on the other side of the door, she would regret ever turning that knob.
But if they weren’t — if she were truly alone — she might be able to escape; she just might make it out to a place where no one hit her, no one touched her, where she could figure out who she truly was.
Elena wasn’t sure anymore. She wasn’t sure of anything.
Taking tiny steps, it took her at least fifteen minutes to go the short distance from her bed to the door. She stopped with each step and listened, trying to hear the sound of breathing, of whispering, of anything out of place.
When nothing registered, she lifted her hand to the doorknob and placed her fingers there. Tears sprung to her eyes; she was so scared. Her hand shook, and she had to reach out and hold it with her other hand to keep it from rattling the doorknob.
Elena had no idea how much time passed with her standing just like that, unwilling to make that little turn that would tell her if she could get away or not.
Finally, maybe after an hour, maybe only five minutes, she began turning the knob. It didn’t resist the motion. When it was all the way turned, she was shocked and delighted to feel the weight of the door give. All she had to do was pull it inward and then there would be an opening for her to escape.
Inch by terrifying inch, she managed to open the door enough to poke her head out and look up and down the hallway. She’d only been led to the right to where the bathroom, theatre room, and torture chamber were. She’d never been to the left. That had to be the way to freedom.
Stepping into the hallway, she carefully closed the door behind her and looked down the hallway for long minutes. She couldn’t keep her body from shaking and didn’t try to stop it as she began creeping to the left.
The corridor seemed endless, but eventually she made it around a bend, and then right before her was a set of stairs. The hallway was dim; shadows were cast everywhere from low wattage lights that hung sporadically from the ceiling.
When she reached the stairs she saw another door at the top. Okay, she could handle that. Maybe it was locked and this journey would be over. Maybe there was someone on the other side, and her escape would be thwarted. But maybe no one would be there, and she could free herself of this hell.
Elena tested each step before putting any weight on it. She kept to the edges. Some distant memory told her that the closer to the wall she stepped the less likely there would be a chance of squeaking if the boards were loose.
Climbing the stairs took her nearly as long as it had taken her to cross her small room, but finally she reached the top. She stood next to the door with her ear pressed against it as she listened for sounds.
Was there someone on the other side? She didn’t hear a thing, and no light was shining beneath it. Elena truly might be alone.
Lifting her hand, she touched the gold doorknob and centimeter by centimeter she began to turn it. It kept on twisting. When it was all the way to the left, she began pushing the door, hoping it wouldn’t make a sound.
Her luck continued. The door opened and no light came into the stairwell as she opened it wider. After a while there was a big enough area for her to poke her head through. The room in front of her was dark, but she saw something that gave her hope.
Windows that had light coming in through them.
She pushed the door a little more and then slipped through it, carefully shutting it without a sound behind her. She then leaned on the wall and looked around the small room.
She had no idea where she was, but it was rustic with a lawn mower over in the corner and a workbench against one wall. It appeared as if she were in a finished shed, or a barn, a work building. Maybe this wasn’t attached to the main house. That would be good. She wouldn’t risk passing someone if she was somewhere away from the house.
She stayed along the wall as she crept quickly inside the shed until she found another door, a small gap at the bottom letting in air, telling her this had to lead to the outside. Joy filled her heart.
She quickly lifted her arm and set her hand on the doorknob before she stopped herself. This wasn’t the time to get careless. She needed to remain alert. Taking her hand away, she listened to see if she could hear anything.
There wasn’t a sound. Still, she waited another ten minutes or so before she raised her hand back to the doorknob. When she tried to turn this knob, though, her stomach tensed. It was locked. She put more pressure on it, but it wasn’t budging.
She nearly whimpered in her disappointment. She was so close to freedom or felt like she was. Before giving up, though, Elena looked around the room, her eyes coming to a large window across from her.
Keeping her back pressed against the wall, she moved over to the curtainless window and again listened for any sounds. Her patience was waning as the need for freedom called to her.
She heard nothing, crawled under the window, slowly lifted her head, and peeked out. The yard was dark, and she scanned the area for a long time, not seeing anyone patrolling the grounds.
Elena rose and found a latch on the window, which she easily undid. Maybe the lock on the door she hadn’t been able to open was to keep people out. It wasn’t intended to keep someone in. Still she didn’t let out a full breath until the window slid up easily.
She was done being slow now. If she was going to get caught, she wasn’t going to make it easy for the men who had been torturing her month after month. She lifted the window enough to squeeze through and then hefted her body up and over the sill, quickly falling to the other side.
The crunch of the ground below her made too loud a sound, and she shrank back as she listened for approaching steps. When none came her way, Elena stood and quickly shut the window, not wanting someone to spot it and know she’d escaped. Maybe an extra three minutes would be the difference between freedom and escape.
She decided she couldn’t move too fast, but she couldn’t crawl either. Elena stepped away from the wall and began to run toward the darkest part of the yard, away from the shed. The other way must be the house, because a house would definitely have light on it.
She ran and ran, not knowing how far she was getting or if the yard would ever end. Maybe there wasn’t a fence. Maybe she was already off the property. Joy filled her. But as she continued to move, she did see a fence up ahead in the dim moonlight.
And then she heard the dogs. No! She was so close to freedom.
Elena picked up her pace, her eyes focused on the fence ahead of her. It was a tall brick wall. She didn’t care. She would scale it. Her breath rushing from her lungs, she reached the wall and jumped up, trying to get a foothold. She fell down and looked up and down the fence, searching for a place she could crawl over. If she could just get over the fence she would be free. There had to be neighbors, cars driving by.
Just as she had that thought, she heard the sweet sound of a motor as a vehicle passed by. She screamed, no longer caring to be quiet. They were coming for her. She practically felt their hot breath on her neck.
The car kept going, but Elena screamed again as she tried to mount the fence. Even when her hair was yanked back and a hand slammed over her mouth, she still tried to scream and claw herself forward.
Escape was so close. If she could just get over the fence.
“Where do you think you’re going?” one of her captors asked. “I step out for a few minutes and you try to make a run for it.
Your punishment will be quite fun for me,” he finished as he began dragging her backward.
She fought against him; even when his fist slammed into her ribs, she still kicked and bit at his hand. She’d been so close . . . so very close.
Denial hung heavy in her heart as she was pushed back into the barn.
“Let me go!” she screamed.
The man only smiled.
And Elena felt herself lose it.
Chapter Fourteen
The man dragged her kicking and screaming back to her prison as his friends joined him. Though she struggled, she was no match for these men. They easily carried her down the basement stairs and threw her to the floor in the torture room.
Elena jumped from the floor and reached out, sweeping her short fingernails across the face of the man in front of her, rejoicing when she saw angry red welts instantly appear.
She knew the punishment would be a hundred times worse than what she’d just dished out, but she no longer cared. She wanted to enrage this man so badly he would kill her. Then this torture would be over.
She forced a laugh from her throat, a laugh she didn’t feel.
“Did you enjoy that?” she screamed at the man and continued laughing.
The laughter morphed though, making her sound like a maniac. Maybe she was. Elena had no idea who she was anymore.
She didn’t even care.
She’d tried to end her own life a couple of times, and she was always stopped. So the only way out of this situation was to enrage these men to the point that they would end her misery.
“You little bitch!” the man screamed. “You will pay for that.”
She heard the sound of his fist rushing through the air, and instead of backing away from it, she leaned into the punch, his fist connecting with the side of her head, making her vision blur as she stumbled backward and fell hard on her butt.
Once on the ground, the man’s shoe whipped out and her breath rushed from her body when he connected with her stomach before stepping on her hand, the sound of fingers cracking echoing off the walls. Vomit flew from her lips at the impact.