RESILIENCE (Resilient Saga Book 1)

by Marcia DM

  I close my eyes.

  I open them again.

  Fuck.

  It was a dream. Well, more like a fucking nightmare. I know where I am.

  I remember now.

  “Welcome back, Professor. Did you enjoy your nap? I was getting bored already,” Asad says with a nasty smirk on his face. “I’m happy you could make it. I’ve fantasized with this moment for so long, and it’s finally happening. I believe I should thank you for it, right?” He’s enjoying this way too much. “Well, to be completely honest, we both should thank the fucking idiot who got caught. Carter, wasn’t it?”

  “What did you do to him?”

  “Ah, it doesn’t matter. You’re here, I’m happy. Let’s move on.”

  “Wasn’t this supposed to be a tea party? Is this how you treat your guests?”

  “Ha, ha, ha!” He laughs hysterically. “You’d like me to be your host, just like my father was. Right? Think again. I’m not that stupid. You took advantage of that and killed us all. Well, not all of us. Am I right? Ha, ha, ha, ha!” He’s psychotic. I need to get out of here, fast.

  While he laughs like the maniac he is, I scan my surroundings. Nothing much to work with, to be honest.

  We’re in a room with concrete walls. No windows or furniture. There’s a small but bright light that hangs from the ceiling and a single wooden door that looks old and moldy. The only way out is through that door and judging by the way he bound my body to this chair, I don’t think Asad is planning to let me stand up and walk through it.

  A few seconds go by and I hear a knock on the door, interrupting his laughter. Asad grunts and walks towards the door. He opens it and brings in a cart with a bloody tarp on top of it.

  This is not a good sign.

  He sets the cart to the side and then I say. “That doesn’t look like the kind of tea party one would enjoy.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m going to enjoy every second of it. But before we begin our celebrations, let’s bring the rest of our guests!” He spins on his heels and takes a laptop from under the tarp. He sets the laptop on top of the cart and opens it. There’s only one thing on the screen —Carter. Barely moving, strapped to a chair, just like me, and looking pretty beat up. Next to him there’s a biker guarding the room. His clothes are bloody and a thread of saliva mixed with blood is hanging from his mouth. He looks… dead. “Mr. Carter, say ‘hi’ to your ‘cuz.’”

  How the fuck did he know he’s my cousin?

  Carter raises his head, looking for the source of the voice in the room. He’s totally confused, unable to locate the camera. His swollen purple eyes are almost closed shut, and his nose is clearly broken. But his smile is still there. Bloody teeth and all, but he smiles.

  Fucking tough guy.

  “Bruno, I found him!” He says and laughs, ending with a bad cough.

  “Yeah. Great job, you moron.”

  “Haaaa. Isn’t this great, boys? The family reunited because of me. I’m honored, really,” Asad says while showing us his wretched yellow teeth in a creepy smile. I’m going to knock every fucking one of those, the first chance I get.

  “Shall we get this party started or what, little Abdel? Oops, sorry. I meant Asad.” Asad frowns when he hears me.

  “Of course, but before we begin, let me bring our last guest. Cassandra! Oops, sorry. I meant Sarah.”

  Fucker.

  “Tell me, Professor. When you fuck her, do you call her by her old slave name, or her new slave name?”

  “FUCK YOU!” I say while jumping on the chair.

  “Manners, Professor. Manners,” he says and delivers a slap across my face.

  “A slap, Asad? Really? Have you not learned anything from me, child? Then again, you were always a pussy.” I’m taunting him, trying to shift the dynamic of this situation against him. If I can get him pissed off, then we might have an advantage.

  “He slapped you? Are you sure he wants to kill you and not marry you? I mean, who does that to another dude?” Carter says over the camera. When his words reach Asad’s ears, he readies himself to hit me again. Only this time he wields his fist.

  “I said, MANNERS!” He yells. Before he can deliver that pissed-off punch, the wooden door opens again. Then I see Sarah rushing in, stumbling, as if she was pushed. Her hands are tied behind her back; she has a black eye and blood in her mouth. Behind her, a man walks in, wearing a biker patch. I glance in his direction to check the rank.

  Fucking hell.

  ‘President.’ That’s what the patch says. Bad Blood.

  You cocksucker.

  Sarah’s standing a few feet away from me, looking straight at me. Bad Blood shoves her again. She struggles, but he’s stronger… way stronger than her. He slaps her and grabs her hair. I jump on the chair again, trying to lose my bindings.

  We both look at each other’s bodies, scanning for injuries. Neither of us find anything alarming.

  Our eyes meet at the same time and have a conversation.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. You?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sarah! There you are,” Leon says excitedly. “Welcome to your party. Bad Blood, friend, please remove her from her constraints, they’re not necessary for her.” She seems nervous, looks at him and then looks at me, as if waiting for me to give her a signal. I just hope she remains silent. Bad Blood takes a pocket knife, opens it and cuts her loose. “Oh… The way you look at each other makes me want to find love.” He says mockingly. “Come, beautiful. I want to show you my toys.” That comes out in an old, sick and perverted tone.

  Sarah doesn’t move, and Bad Blood pushes her towards the cart. “You might not know this, but the Professor and I know each other from before. He was a friend of my father’s…”

  “Pfft, friend. I was never a friend of that dog!” I yell from the top of my lungs, knowing that the word ‘dog’ will trigger him badly. That’s gotta be the worst insult you can say to an Arab. Plus, his father used to call him that when he was mad. I can see it hits a nerve, since his creepy smile vanishes from his face. Without another word, he removes the tarp from the cart, revealing a lot of torturing tools. Sarah gasps in fear.

  He takes a taser and jams the damn thing on my ribcage, jolting me with it and looking at me dead serious.

  CHAPTER 34

  SARAH

  Electricity.

  Electricity running through your body; it makes you experience a new level of pain, just like the one Bruno is experiencing right now. I see him being electrocuted. I know how he feels. I know the anger that comes with the helplessness of being incapable of breaking free from those bindings. The muscles get stiff and contract violently, giving you the impression of breaking apart. Some of them may actually tear.

  I worry that the minute they are done with him, I’ll be next. I dread that. I don’t want to feel that kind of pain ever again. I also don’t want him to keep suffering. I look up. Leon is pushing that lever up and down non-stop. Finally, Bruno’s body can’t take it anymore and he passes out, still bound to that chair.

  “Wha— Done already? Well… As I was saying…” He continues the conversation as if nothing happened. “He was a friend of my father’s. And being the good Professor he is, he taught me a good deal of things. Things that for him were child’s play. You see, Cassandra, err— I mean, Sarah— whatever, you were his pet project for years. I’m sure you know what I mean…” He says as he throws his hands up in the air, speaking so fast and agitated that one might think he’s euphoric, high even. “I was waiting for an opportunity to put all that child’s play he taught me to good use when Carter showed up. And I thought to myself, we need to make this party bigger. The rest is history, and here we are…” He raises his arms, hands open, palms up, and moves them around.

  I’m so freaked out, frozen in place. My stomach is twisting, I might throw up. Yup, any second now.

  But I need to do something— kill Leon or untie Bruno. What am I thinking? I can’t do neither. I’ve
got this hunk of meat called Bad Blood right behind me, watching my every move, as if he knew what I’m thinking. And to be completely honest, our last encounter was scary as fuck.

  “You bitch. I told you, stay still!” Bad Blood says while dragging me away from Bruno through a hallway. Everything went south really fast. I don’t have time to react. I’m fighting, hopelessly trying to break free. He grabs my neck and tightens his grip, making sure I understand who’s in control. “Walk or I will skin you alive, bitch.”

  We both walk into a small room. The moment I step in and see a twin-sized bed tucked in a corner, I feel I’m starting to lose it. Fear takes the best of me and quickly turns into panic. Blind and drunk in it, I start to think I’ll die, or worse… I might be raped. I’m not ready for the latter, no woman ever is. Bad Blood shoves me on top of the bed and slowly walks towards me.

  He’s going to destroy me. I know it.

  My body shakes, my agitated breathing is not helping my already spooked mind at all.

  “Please… don’t.”

  “Please? And here I was, thinking you had no manners.”

  “I beg you, please. You don’t want to do this… I know you don’t want to. You’ll regret it, please.” Bad Blood checks me out from top to bottom and smiles with malice.

  “Ha-ha-ha! I’m not gonna rape you, you little cunt. If I wanted to fuck, I’d go back home where my old lady’s waiting, so quit your yapping.” I can’t describe how relieved I feel after hearing him say that. One less thing to worry about. Right? Bad Blood sits down on a small chair in front of me, puts his hands on his stomach and interlocks his fingers.

  “Are you supposed to be watching me?” He doesn’t reply, but just smirks and stares at me. “Isn’t it enough that I’m tied up? Plus, is not like I can go anywhere from here.”

  What am I doing!? The exact opposite of what Bruno told me, that’s for sure.

  “It looks like you’re very elusive. My men were stupid enough to underestimate you before. So here I am. But know this— I’m not gonna make that mistake, you’re not getting away from me.”

  “I don’t wanna go away. Can’t you see? I’m surrendering.” His black eyes squint, he suspects something is up.

  “Whatever, bitch. It’s not like you’re gonna live through the night, anyway.” He goes silent after that, and I can think through the silence.

  “How long till you kill me?” He was not expecting that question.

  He lets out a long sigh, puts his elbows on his legs and says, “Depends on how long it takes your man to wake up.”

  “What’s an old lady? You said that just now. Is it a woman?” He looks at me annoyed.

  “A woman, yes, but not any woman. My wife.”

  “Ahh… So, is she really that much older than you?” He scoffs.

  “Let’s just say, you should be glad she ain’t here to hear you say that; or else, she’d murder your ass. And no, she’s not old, that’s a figure of speech.”

  “So… you love her?” That one hit home. I didn’t need an answer from his mouth; his face and body already told me ‘yes.’

  “That’s none of your Goddamn business, bitch.” Oh, don’t you run away from me, Bad Blood.

  “Well, to be honest, I wanted to know what is to love. If I’m going to die today, at least I wanted someone who knows the feeling to describe it to me. You see, the man you beat senseless back there, I… I think I love him, but I’m not completely sure.” Why am I saying all this? And to him, of all people.

  “I’m not here to answer girly stuff. Now, shut the fuck up.”

  “You don’t need to say anything, you know. Your eyes already told me what I wanted to know— you do love her. Tell me something. I’m thinking of him right now. Do my eyes glow like yours?” Really? I mean. What the actual fuck, Sarah. Why am I provoking him!? Bad Blood doesn’t reply.

  A long while goes by. He checks his watch, stands up, stretches his back, walks towards me, grabs my hair. “Hey! That’s not necessary, I can walk!” He loosens the grip a bit, and my body reacts, fast. I break free and start running.

  I don’t know why I do it. Maybe it’s survival instinct. Anyway, I don’t go far. Bad Blood throws himself after me and grabs my ankles, tripping me. I fall down and hit the concrete floor face first; something I should’ve considered, since my hands are still tied up.

  We fight for a brief moment, he tries to smash my shoulders and I aim to crush his nuts, to no avail. The moment his heavy hand connects with my cheekbone, I’m out of combat. This giant of a man punches me and almost knocks me out.

  “That’s what you get for messing with me. You should be glad I didn’t knock a few teeth out.” We walk together and stop in front of a door. He looks at me with doubtful eyes. I can’t understand why. “Your eyes glow, too,” he whispers before pushing me inside the room.

  “Fuck you! You sick piece of shit,” I hear Carter yell through the laptop speakers. That makes me wonder. How far away from us is he? Is he here as well?

  With a fake expression of shame, Leon says, “I must apologize for the manners or lack thereof of my guests, but I must insist that we play a little game.” I gaze at Bruno again. He has a look in his eye I’ve never seen before— lost and confused. He tries to focus on me, but his neck muscles are so tired, he can barely move his head.

  “No… I don’t want to play…” My eyes get teary. I finally understand that there’s no good outcome for us from this point forward. No happily ever after. I’m barely trying to delay the inevitable.

  Don’t you cry, Sarah.

  “That’s fine. You don’t have to play if you don’t want to,” Leon says compassionately. A tone suitable for a kindergarten teacher, not to a soon-to-be number one in the terrorist list kind of guy. He takes a few seconds to roll up his shirt sleeves before resuming his monologue. “What was I saying? Oh, right… It’s fine if you don’t want to play. Really, it is, but for every time you refuse to play, I’m going to play a round with our good pal Carter.” His face expression goes from nice to batshit crazy in a split second.

  “Carter? Where is… is… a… Carter,” Bruno mumbles while still drooling blood. Then, he coughs harshly.

  Leon doesn’t reply. He completely ignores Bruno, takes two steps towards the wall where the levers are and yanks one up. The metal clanks at the end of the motion, echoing inside the room we’re in. I quickly switch my view from the wall of levers to Bruno, waiting for his body to show the electricity running through it. But instead of that, a muffled grunt comes from the laptop, meaning that the lever Leon actioned jolted Carter instead.

  “Stop it! Please!” I yell at Leon, who immediately pulls down the lever. “Don’t hurt him. Let me play. Let’s play.” I reach out with my tied hands, trying to touch his arm. The thought alone twists my stomach, but I can see he likes it. Leon looks at my hand on his arm, then up, and smirks.

  “Wonderful, Cassandra. What a good guest you are proving to be. See, Carter? This is how you behave when you’re a guest: the host proposes, and you nod in agreement,” he claims passionately, cuts my bindings and turns back to grab something from the table. “Voilà!” He says while turning back to me. His right hand poses in front holding metallic objects. “My dear, you look confused. Do you not know what this is? Surely, you don’t have to know what it is to know how to use it, right? Give it a go.”

  The metallic objects are needles. I grab them and start to hyperventilate. I’m extremely nervous. My lips are sealed shut and my throat is swollen, filled with the pressure of trying not to scream in fear. I look at Bruno. He knows what I have to do. His eyes tell me he does.

  I walk towards him, lean forward and kiss his forehead. That’s the only thing I can do to say, ‘I’m sorry.’

  “Ready when you are,” he whispers.

  My hands are shaking; I slowly move the needle’s tip towards his index finger. I’m aiming for the space between the finger and the fingernail. The needle goes in, my skin crawls, my soul screeches. I look
away when the first drop of blood emerges. Tears run down my face like a waterfall. Bruno lets out a muffled grunt. He and I are not strangers to pain and he takes it like a pro. The second needle goes in and I can feel a gag reflex coming. This is like being back in that room, on the receiving end of the pain. Then the third and the fourth. After that, I hear a whistle.

  “Oh, my. You do not waste any time. Do you, my dear?” He says with an awful, twisted, fucked up smile. “How are you feeling? Being on the giving end of pain should feel like… how do you Americans say it…?”

  “A million bucks,” Bad Blood says.

  Leon clicks his tongue and says, “…Hah! A million bucks! Thank you, my friend. You see, the game, like everything in this life, has rules. And those rules must be followed. Allow me to be your guide. After all, it is only logical that you get to return the favor. He tortured you and you must torture him!”

  I’m losing it.

  “Is this what you think you’re giving me here? Do you think a vendetta will sate my anger?”