Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  Fear turned into desperate panic.

  His hands were lightning fast, grabbing my ankles out from under me. I screamed loudly, trying to thrash my weak body around as he climbed onto the bed, maneuvering himself to lay on top of me, my legs around him. Even though I had no strength in my kicks, I tried as best I could to get him away from me.

  He struggled only slightly with my flailing legs as I began screaming.

  “No! No! Stop it!! Let me go!!” I screeched, hoping someone would come to my rescue. I knew that no one nearby would stand against Dana. I was positive that Dana had made sure Sean was far away from the room. “Stop it!!”

  One of Dana’s hands pressed flat against my chest, pushing me harshly to the bed and nearly pressing hard enough to break my ribs. I felt my straining bones under his strength as I struggled to breathe and scream. His other hand went to his fly, unzipping it.

  The terror consumed me.

  “No!!” I screamed, tears falling down my face.

  “Come now, Little Lily,” he chuckled, grabbing my thighs with both hands and pushing my knees up to my chest, his fingers digging harshly into my flesh as my body was forced into the painful position. I cried out in pain as my body protested the movement and he loomed over me. “It’s not like you’re a virgin anymore. This won’t hurt nearly as bad.” He positioned himself against me. “Pity.”

  At first, the pain was so horrible that the scream stuck in my throat, unable to break free, choking me as my body trembled in agony. It was almost enough to take me out of the room entirely. My eyes were locked on the ceiling, focused only on the pain. Dana’s movements were nothing compared to the agony of realizing that this was my reality until the day I died. I was Dana’s prize and no one would save me.

  “You brought this on yourself, Little Lily…” he growled dangerously. “The chase was fun, but now it’s time for you to learn.”

  Even when he was finished, the pain did not end. It seemed to radiate deeper, past the cells of my skin and muscles to the very marrow of my bones, splintering every part of my skeleton that was still intact.

  I flinched as Dana reached up and unbuckled one of the padded cuffs, sighing as he brought my arm down. I should have attacked him then. I should have leapt up and began beating him with all the strength in my body, but at that moment, the only strength I had was used to keep myself from pleading with Dana to kill me.

  He released my other hand and walked back to the other side of the bed.

  “Little Lily, allow me to explain to you how this is going to work,” he started, sitting down as if he was about to explain some fact of life to his child. I blinked and then glared at him tiredly.

  “Fuck you…” I murmured under my breath.

  Dana smiled and leaned forward, taking my face between his hands.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered. “After all that, you’re still biting.” He pressed his lips to mine before backing away. “Now, here is what will happen. From now on, I will be the only one who can enjoy you. Unless, of course, you need to be punished for being a bad girl, in which case I will bring in one of my men to show you how bad it can get.”

  He gently tucked some hair behind my ear and I flinched away.

  “I’m going to break you, Little Lily…” he breathed. “And from the pieces, I will build you back up into everything you’ve always wanted to be.” He trailed the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Nod to tell me that you understand.”

  I remained still, staring at him as though looking through water.

  “Do you understand?”

  I nodded, the tears creating hot rivers over my face.

  * *** *

  Dana took me into the bathroom and washed me. I was in too much pain to move, and while I desperately wanted to get clean, I hated having Dana’s hands all over my body, wiping my skin with another damn washcloth. I wanted him to push harder, to scrub away everything, but I also wanted him to be gentler over my abused body.

  I remembered pleading with him at one point to leave me in the bathtub, but he did not listen, finishing washing and then drying me before chaining me up again on the now-clean bed, naked and cold. I shivered and he paused from turning away. He hooked an arm under me, lifting me off the bed with ease and covering me with the blankets.

  He leaned closer and kissed my forehead before he left.

  And he left me for a very long time.

  That was even worse.

  I was sure hours ticked by as the constant panic and pain exhausted me further. I felt lifeless, powerless…as though I didn’t exist at all. I began to wonder if I was already dead. But even death couldn’t be as bad as this.

  I lost track of time—not that I really had track of it to begin with—and it seemed like forever until Dana showed up once again.

  I jumped when the door opened, terrified. Dana smiled when he saw that.

  “Very good, Little Lily.”

  And then, with me kicking and screaming in pain, he violated me. I could not tell if the pain was worse then or the previous day but it still shone brightly behind my eyes, pulling me down to some cold place I never knew before. When it was over, he walked out the door, returning with food, where he tried to feed me, though I refused, my stomach twisted sickly.

  I could not tell if it was day or night, so I counted each time Dana came to torture me as a day, marking the end of a horrible time of waiting for the leader of the Commission for the People to rape me before tenderly washing me clean and trying to feed me.

  The pain was constant and common, so after the fifth day, I felt as though I could move even with the intense pain. When Dana picked me up and took me to the bathroom to wash me, I scrambled out of the tub, shouting like a banshee, my hands going for his neck.

  We both fell to the tile, my hands squeezing around his neck, trying to choke him, but he chuckled and his arms wrapped around me, turning me over and pinning me against the cold tile, his knee against my lower back as my face was pressed to the floor.

  “Very good, Little Lily. Right on schedule,” he chuckled against my neck.

  I struggled whenever I could. All the while, I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to leave the room. He might use me every day until I died. I did not know what his goal was, or what he said I was doing on schedule, and as much as I spent my quiet, waking moments thinking over what he had said about breaking me, I could not understand what he wanted.

  One day, the torture changed.

  Dana stepped into the room and I flinched, turning my head away and clenching my eyes shut, waiting for him to yank my legs apart as he had done for the past six days.

  When I heard his footsteps move, but not closer to me, I opened my eyes and turned to watch him. He walked to the desk, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the gold pocket watch, setting it on the desk next to some files and a thin book before removing the jacket from his shoulders. Curious, I watched him fold the jacket over the back of the chair and then toe his shoes off.

  My heart pounded and my brain raced, trying to understand why Dana was undressing. It was when he turned to me, slowly unfastening the cufflinks on his shirt that I realized I had never seen Dana’s skin apart from his forearms.

  He climbed on the bed wearing his white shirt and suit vest with his belt and trousers, unbuttoning the other sleeve as he straddled my waist.

  I could do nothing but stare at him, confused and worried.

  Dana reached to my right wrist and unbuckled the restraint, allowing my arm to drop loose and causing me more confusion.

  Freeing my other hand, he placed one hand on each side of my head and leaning down, pressing his mouth to mine softly, opening his mouth to lick my lips.

  “What…” was all I could manage to say.

  “Undress me.”

  My eyes shot wide and focused on the three buttons on his suit vest. I stared at them as though they were red hot, ready to burn my skin if I touched them.

  “I…I don’t…”
r />   “You heard me,” Dana said, sitting straight, settling all his weight on my hips. “Undress me.”

  “No…”

  The prospect of undressing Dana terrified me. It was a very intimate act, revealing the skin I had never seen before, and I felt as though I would be giving my consent.

  “Little Lily,” he said with a dark smile. “That was not a request, it was an order.”

  “No,” I protested, a little stronger, shaking my head.

  “Whether you undress me or not is not going to change what’s going to happen,” he informed me, his eyebrows high, expectant. “If you’re a good girl and you obey, I will be gentle. If you don’t…well, you know what happens.”

  “I can’t…I-I can’t…” I shook my head, chanting the same two words over and over again.

  He took my wrists in his large hands and moved them to rest against the fabric of his vest. I cringed away, but he held my hands close, leaning down so I could reach the first button.

  “Please…d-don’t…” I pled pitifully. “I-I can’t…”

  “Last chance, Little Lily.”

  I shook my head violently.

  “Fine.”

  With incredible speed, he moved his hips off mine and grabbed my legs. The panic ripped through me like lightning.

  “No! No! Please! Okay! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

  To my surprise, he did stop, settling back over my hips and waiting. I opened my eyes, crying as I looked at the three buttons.

  My hands were shaking as I lifted them to his vest, once again flinching at the touch of the smooth black button. I struggled, my fingers shaking too much to skillfully push the button through the buttonhole. Dana remained still, watching, allowing me to take my time.

  Eventually, the first button gave way.

  The sobs overtook my chest, heaving my entire body under him and my hands left his vest, covering my face as I cried.

  “Two more, Little Lily,” he told me, his voice calm but with a touch of darkness that reminded me of what would happen if I did not finish the task.

  Crying and blubbering, I worked the second button open and finally the third one.

  When the vest was open, I raised my hands to my face again, crying into my palms, sobbing.

  “You’re not finished, yet.”

  I looked at him, surprised. He had not removed his vest, allowing it to sit open over his white shirt and tie, looking at me expectantly.

  “Go on.”

  I was starting to sicken myself. My fingers wrapped around the open edges of the vest and pulled at them uselessly, unable to move the fabric from his shoulders. Sniffing my tears back, I used my grip on his vest to lift myself off the bed. With the way he was sitting on my hips, this put my face next to his collarbone and I froze for several long moments.

  I pushed the vest from his shoulders and down his arms. It was only then that he shifted, extracting one arm and then tossing the vest to the side with his other hand.

  “Tie.”

  I hooked my fingers in the knot, pulling at it uselessly. If my brain had been functioning, I would have thought to strangle him with his own tie, but my mind was racing in too many different directions.

  When I was having no success with the tie, Dana chuckled and his fingers wrapped around mine as he ducked his head, kissing my forehead.

  “I forgot, this is your first time undressing a man.” I did not miss the way he enunciated the word “man.”

  His fingers worked around mine, pulling the tie loose and finally over his head to join the vest on the floor.

  “And the shirt…” he whispered.

  This time, my hesitation was for an entirely different reason. While I was still crying over how frightening it was to undress him, I was also intensely curious. I remembered seeing my mother reach to undress Dana before he stopped her. I wondered what it was that he was hiding.

  Working slowly, I unbuttoned the stiff collar.

  I had never really taken note of Dana’s scent before, or the way his breath sounded moving over his teeth. As I unbuttoned the shirt, I saw the expanse of his smooth skin revealed, spread over the rounded area where his collarbone met his neck. His scent drifted to me, gently, as though carried on the kindest of breezes. His scent was cold, a little metallic, like ice sitting against the roof of my mouth, but there was a wood musk to it as the heat from his skin rolled toward me, making the smell intoxicating.

  There was a light dusting of hair across his chest that was revealed as I unfastened his shirt. My eyes, cleared of tears to sate my curiosity, traveled down the smooth muscles of his abdomen.

  My hands still trembling, I pulled the fabric free of the waist band of his trousers to unbutton the last two buttons.

  Once the buttons were free, I nervously grabbed the collar, pushing it away from his skin and over his broad shoulders. He smiled and swooped down to kiss my forehead once more before tugging the shirt off his arms and tossing it to the side.

  My breath was heavier now and I sniffed again. I looked him over, my hands barely touching his chest.

  “Are you finished?” he whispered.

  I turned to look at him, staring into the bright, golden eyes, horrified at the prospect of removing his pants.

  “Okay,” he whispered, his voice turning to honey. “You did very well. Baby steps,” he said, one arm wrapped around my back and lowered me to the bed.

  He leaned over me and kissed me a few times as I remained still and stoic, tears leaking from my eyes as he moved his mouth to my neck and down the middle of my chest, one of his hands resting over my right breast while his mouth went to the other one, kissing under it before trailing his mouth upward toward my nipple.

  I felt sick.

  I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over.

  When he was finished, he tucked himself back into his trousers and refastened his belt before moving to my side.

  “You did very well,” he told me again, his hand tracing up my belly.

  “I fucking hate you…”

  “And I hope you continue to do so.” Dana placed his hand against my stomach, spreading his fingers to cover the expanse of my skin. “Don’t you understand, Little Lily? This is all a part of it.”

  “A part of what?”

  “A part of your transformation into something more than what you are.” I stared at him for a long moment before he drummed his fingers on my stomach, hopping off the bed and moving to the desk.

  “Your parents found some interesting things when they were cleaning out your things, like the sketch of the angel with the flag, and even a sketch of me.” He turned to me and smiled broadly. “It’s quite good, though it’s been a while since I looked that innocent. I plan to frame it and hang it in my office.” He turned to the items he had brought with him. “Also, they found this under your mattress,” Dana said, lifting the file with a stamp across the front that read “TO BE TAKEN OFF RECORD.”

  Dana grinned.

  “It’s a good thing that they didn’t look in it,” he chuckled. “Otherwise, I would have had to explain a few things.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “But you looked through it, didn’t you? You know whose file this is?”

  I hesitated before nodding.

  “I was wondering where it had gone,” Dana said. “Not that I really needed it. You see, the file is a book of reference for this,” he held up a familiar book. I blinked at the diary of Bryant Morris as Dana brought it to the bed, crawling to sit against the headboard and opening the diary.

  “41141…” Dana shook his head. “What a tricky son of a bitch. Your uncle really caused a lot of trouble when he came to the Commission. That’s why he received so much attention from Bryant Morris.”

  He turned to a dog-eared page and began reading.

  “July seventh,” he read. “Four-eleven forty-one is a fascinating subject indeed, and I must admit to a certain amount of special attention that I have been giving him. I have never seen a subject so resilient to the basic testin
g and manipulations. Despite the pain that he is put through on the table, he insists on acting out against the guards, causing him to be beaten down repeatedly, often until he is unconscious. Yet, every day, he’s as defiant as ever.

  “I am beginning to imagine possibilities for him that I could never have imagined for any of the other experiments. Rather than create a weapon, why not test the limits of the human spirit, see how much physical, emotional, and mental pain we can inflict on a man before he finally breaks, and when he does, what becomes of him? What if the human spirit cannot actually break? There are so many fascinating avenues we can take with him that I can hardly decide what the best course of action is.”

  He turned to me as he flipped through more pages.

  “Is it sickening to hear?”

  “This is probably your bedtime story,” I groaned, but I did not say anything else. I was curious and I wanted him to continue.

  “I will admit to having Sean read a few pages to me every now and then when I was feeling particularly uninspired,” Dana said, turning his attention back to the handwritten pages.

  “September twenty-third,” he began again. “After much deliberation with the doctors and my assistants, it was finally decided that four-eleven forty-one would be made audience to an interrogation torture of his partner, and mother of his child, Katherine Laughton,” Dana glanced at me briefly as my eyes shot wide. “Of course, this was off-record, but what a fascinating afternoon it turned out to be. The subject was guided into the observation room under heavy sedation and when he was secured, we waited for him to come to completely before beginning.

  “When he first saw her, he went completely silent, and as we began the torture he became increasingly agitated. His heart rate increased and his respiration doubled…but he never made a sound through her entire session. It was clear to me that it was not an act of keeping her safe, but rather an act of defiance against me. He was still so aware of my presence, even as his lover was tortured in front of him.

  “Later, one of my assistants euthanized the girl after hooking her up to a reader to allow four-eleven forty-one to watch her heart stop. That was the only time he showed a reaction. He managed to break free of his restraints and nearly succeeded in breaking through the observation glass. When she was dead, the subject was taken back to his cell.