Hold True

Chapter 1

I just started this.  I haven't gone back to look for errors.  But this popped into my head and I wanted others opinions.  Please let me know what you think.  And please let me know of any mistakes you find.  

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He smiled as he dragged the sharp tool through the flesh on my hip.  Slowly and carefully he pushed the razor into my pale skin. It stung and burned more than it should have. I closed my eyes as the blade smoothly carved intricate designs... and that’s when I screamed.  The pain so instant, it was unbelievable how something so small could bring me the most agonizing pain I’ve felt here so far. He’s cut me before with a bigger duller blade that dug deeper than the sharp tool he was using now, but still the small blade hurt so much more. Carefully he cut, oh so carefully his breathing shallow, eyes unblinking, and his movements precise.  The razor cut effortlessly as his deep, scratchy voice chanted words from a language I’ve never heard before.

Over the years I've learned to hold my emotions in.  Showing my despair only made things worse. I built my emotional walls…Put so much into them. These screams shouldn’t be escaping my lips.

 All signs of anguish excited Sir.  He also loved it when I fought back, he liked knowing he could do whatever he wanted and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I used to fight... until the punishments became more sadistic. So I quit fighting and showing my emotions.  I wanted to live and fighting back or crying out would only bring my end so much faster.

Hatred burned through me…I hated this man with every fiber of my being. I wished he would just die…no, not just die. For Sir it would have to be a long painful death one where I could watch his suffering just as he has watched mine. I wanted him to be frightened…no, horrified by what I do to him. I promised myself then that if I didn’t die by Sir’s hands that I would be the one to end his life.

All I could do was scream and cry.  My screams were so loud and they echoed off the high white ceiling and long cement walls.  The only things in the room with us were the small metal table he kept his tools on. The mound of concrete where he chained and whipped me, the whips, knives and other such tools hanging on the far wall, and the tall wooden object that I was now hanging from. The place stunk of stale blood and sweat giving the room a dark and foreboding feel, even though it was lit by big florescent lights that hung from the ceiling.

My wrists and ankles were tied to the object so I couldn’t struggle as Sir cut me.  A pool of blood on the cement below me grew larger as the hours passed.  The bright crimson of my blood contrasted with the dull grey of the cement floor. Leaving bright spots that obscured my vision.  The only thing that kept me from completely losing it were the words my first and last lover whispered seconds before my captor put a bullet through his head. “Don’t let him destroy you. Live, please...God just live...Get out of here. If not for yourself then for me.  Escape and find love. Promise me. Promise me and hold true to your promise.” He gasped while I stared into his deep blue eyes.

I screamed remembering what came next and found something that hurt more than the sharp tool that was still cutting designs in my skin.  Shattered love, not shattered because of him or me, but because of the selfish ass that refused to share me.  Shattered because Sir’s sick and twisted and he gets off on my pain.  I screamed now, not because of pain but for the love I lost.

Sir laughed as he stood and searched for a new blade on the table beside him. He rubbed his body against mine so I could feel the bulge in his pants. It made me sick knowing that my screams turned him on.  He brought his face up to mine to give me a kiss but I spit in his ugly brown eyes.  I smirked as he pulled back knowing that was a stupid move, but I felt satisfaction knowing that I ruined his pleasure.